Disruptor Read Free

who got a kick
out of taking stray kids under his wing.
    Petty theft and this shelter had been keeping
her going in the three months she’d been free.
    The line moved slow and steady. Conversation
flowed around her, mostly young runaways who knew each other. A
girl with ratty braids and hard green eyes caught Dani’s attention.
The kid was fifteen, sixteen at the most. Those flinty, bleak eyes
had seen more than she should have, and it was all ugly.
    Like looking in a mirror. Dani dropped her
gaze back to the floor and closed the lid on memories before they
had a chance to become overwhelming.
    An actual job – that was what she needed.
Something legal so she stayed out of trouble, but just shady enough
that her lack of ID wouldn’t be a problem. How the hell was she
supposed to find something like that? She had no connections in
Point Sable, even after three months. Mostly because she’d avoided
even the slightest interaction, but crap, it was time to change
that.
    Dani ate her meal at the far end of a long
table, hunched over her plate and avoiding conversation. Once
finished, she dropped off her tray and spoke to one of the
volunteers. “Is Thorpe around?”
    The volunteer, gray-haired and wearing an
apron, gave her a baleful look. “What do you need with Mr .
Thorpe?”
    Dani swallowed a surge of irrational anger
and the desire to tell the old man to mind his own damn business.
“I wanted to ask him if he knew about any jobs.” Thorpe ran the
shelter and made himself available to anyone wanting to talk or
needing help. This asshole didn’t trust anyone under fifty and was
protective of his boss. Dani was pretty sure he’d been homeless
once himself. That didn’t put her in the mood to put up with his
shit but she didn’t want to shove her way past him.
    “A job, huh? You wantin’ a real job or some
bullshit? Cause Mr. Thorpe, he don’t deal in bullshit. You know
what I’m saying?”
    “I want a job, not bullshit.” She jerked her
chin toward the kitchen entrance. “Can I go talk to Mr.
Thorpe?”
    The mister seemed to mollify the
self-appointed watchdog. He gave his best glare for several more
seconds before his features softened and he nodded. “Go on.”
    The shelter used to be a community center
years ago, back when communities on the south side of Point Sable
had such things. Dani didn’t know much more than that about the
place. The kitchen equipment looked original, including scarred,
decades-old prep tables and big, clunky industrial appliances.
    Thorpe attacked the cooktop with a metal
spatula, scraping grease and other food debris from the
still-cooling surface. He was a rangy man in his late fifties. His
skin was a sepia brown, deeply lined with a scattering of dark
freckles across the bridge of his nose and under his deep set eyes.
Most of his short, curly hair was gray but a few lingering strands
of black held on here and there. Dani watched him work, unsure of
how best to approach him.
    He took care of that for her. “You just gonna
stand there, or do you have something to say?” He glanced at her, a
faint smile softening his words.
    “I heard you sometimes help people find jobs.
I’m looking for work.”
    “Work’s a good thing to have.” Thorpe
continued to clean while he spoke. “You been to the Workforce
Development office?”
    She’d never heard of it. “What’s that?”
    “It’s a state office, help people find jobs,
get training.” He glanced at her. “You got ID?”
    Her first time on the streets, years ago,
she’d learned the hard way not to give away too much about herself.
That instinct returned, a screaming urgency in her head and her
gut. But Thorpe had a solid reputation. She’d never seen him treat
anyone badly, and she’d been watching.
    And she needed help. So she swallowed her
trepidation and answered his question. “No. But I don’t want to do
anything bad. Maybe wait tables or clean houses for cash. Something
like that.”
    A clatter came from the