Fighting to Be Free By Kirsty Moseley
“I rested as much as possible so that if I was working on Thursday, I wouldn’t be suffering too much. I strapped my two broken fingers together, which seemed to stop them from throbbing as much, which I was grateful for.
On Thursday morning I made my way to the scrap yard, praying that this would work out, otherwise I’d have to go and work in Brett’s club, but that would be weekends and I didn’t really want to do that if I could help it.
As I walked in the office, Connor, looked at me sh...ocked. “$hit, Jamie! What the hell happened?” he asked, concerned.
I’d already decided to lie and try and play up that this wasn’t my fault in a bid to keep this agreement open. “I got mugged, I’m ok,” I lied, shrugging.
“Damn, did they catch the asshole?” he asked, pulling a chair over for me to sit in.
I waved it off, “I’m fine honestly. No they didn’t catch him.MoreLess
On Thursday morning I made my way to the scrap yard, praying that this would work out, otherwise I’d have to go and work in Brett’s club, but that would be weekends and I didn’t really want to do that if I could help it.
As I walked in the office, Connor, looked at me sh...ocked. “$hit, Jamie! What the hell happened?” he asked, concerned.
I’d already decided to lie and try and play up that this wasn’t my fault in a bid to keep this agreement open. “I got mugged, I’m ok,” I lied, shrugging.
“Damn, did they catch the asshole?” he asked, pulling a chair over for me to sit in.
I waved it off, “I’m fine honestly. No they didn’t catch him.MoreLess
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