Chapter 11 - A Glimpse of the Past
Two weeks passed in a blur of agonizing physical labor, cheap canteen stew, and muscle spasms. The soft, perfumed socialite was burning away beneath grime and calluses. Gage lost ten pounds; his cheekbones grew sharp, his posture permanently arched from heavy lifting.
On a cold Tuesday afternoon, a shiny black sedan pulled onto the warehouse yard. Gage was wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his dirty sleeve, resting against a forklift, when the rear passenger window rolled down.
Sitting in the back was Julian, his former best friend, accompanied by Gage's ex-fiancée, Chloe. Julian wore a pristine camel hair coat; Chloe held a miniature dog wrapped in cashmere.
They had arrived to sign paperwork for an import shipment routed through the Vance depot. Julian stepped out, his leather shoes clicking on the dirty concrete. When his eyes landed on the dirty man in the high-visibility vest, Julian froze.
"Gage?" Chloe gasped, pressing a scented handkerchief to her nose. "Good god... is that really you?"
Gage stood paralyzed, shame burning like acid through his veins. Julian stepped forward, a vicious, mocking grin spreading across his face. "Look at the great Gage Vance. I heard Arthur cut you loose, but I didn't think he made you a pack mule. How much do they pay you an hour, brother? Enough for a bottle of water?"
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Julian reached into his pocket, pulled out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill, and tossed it onto the dirty puddle between them. "For old times' sake."
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