Neil walks around me to approach Tide. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t say a word. He simply rips the envelope from Tide’s hands and gives it back to me.
Tide whimpers in response. That pathetic little noise seems to be what finally triggers Neil’s voice.
“You are the lowest kind of low. Here you are tempting kind-hearted individuals out of their hard-earned money, when you should be out trying to make money for yourself. Instead of searching for handouts, have you considered working? Or are you too lazy?”
Tide’s bottom lip trembles. “But I’ve never worked a day in my life.”
Neil’s brow lowers. He looks like a fierce, pissed off warrior about to cut into a wounded enemy. “You act like that’s a good thing. Dirty your own hands but do not drag one of the Hayes Court down with you. Do I make myse
