“It’s always like this. I’m doing my job, trying to take care of my family, and they think they know who I am just by looking at me. But I don’t want to get shot, so I’ve got to be all goddamn meek and polite, even though they’re the ones in the wrong.”

“Shot just for loading a truck? Of course they wouldn’t—”

He glared at her. “Don’t start. You don’t know how the cops are down here. They’re dancing on their toes, waiting for us to forget to pay for a pack of gum so they can work us like a punching bag. Meanwhile, if we call them because we’re getting robbed or something bad’s going down, they take their sweet time coming across the canal because they figure we deserve what’s coming to us.”

“I’m sure they don’t do it on purpose. It’s a big city. They probably have a lot of calls to deal with.”

“Oh, no? During the storm, cops saw a black guy walking around near a store and they shot him for a looter.” His eyes flared. “That’s not the kind of thing that happens to white people, Andra. When a stranger picked him up and took him to another police station to try to get help, the cops beat up the Good Samaritan and then burned the first guy’s body to try and hide the evidence.”

She sucked in a breath. “You can’t be serious.”

“Just a day in the life, sweet girl.”

He lay down, rolling out his neck before he lifted the bar, dropped it toward his chest, and caught it at the last minute so he could feel the hard snap of muscle.

“I tried to tell the cops today that we were hired to move the furniture, and I barely got the words out of my mouth before I was facedown beside my own truck, with cuffs on. Ty told them we were paid to be there, but they didn’t care. They were trying to stuff us into the back of the squad car when the owners came home and gave them holy hell for messing with us.”

That was just lucky. Most people would have fired his ass for stirring up trouble. These guys gave him a bonus and said if he came back tomorrow, they’d double his wage to make up for the incident. Of course, to do that, he’d have to beg Andra’s help with his mother again.

He racked up five reps over his previous record, trying to burn away the thought of that.

“That’s . . .” She exhaled. He set down the bar, shaking out his arms. “What’s wrong with the world, LJ? How can they—”