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I closed my eyes, my palm pressing against the cool surface of the door. I needed to get myself together before I stepped in there. It was becoming too much for me to handle, and each time I walked up the stairs, I just wanted to turn back around and escape the madness.
It felt so much harder now that I didn’t have the distraction of Cardo and Chiara downstairs. I grinned as I thought about their little faces. At least they’d gotten out of their situation. I supposed that was the one good thing about Mateo disappearing on me.
Loud voices echoed past the bass of the music, and I knew that was my signal to head inside. I pushed the door open, jerking back as someone tried to slam it back on me. “What the fuck?”
“Leave,” a man with scars all over his face demanded.
“Not a goddamn chance.” I clicked the door closed behind me. “This is my apartment.”
His lips lifted into a sneer, his body odor getting stronger the longer I stood in the enclosed space of the entrance with him. Jesus. Where the hell did they manage to find these people?
“Hey, Kyle!” he shouted, leering at me. My breath stuttered at the sound of my dad’s name. He blocked my path into the living room and to the stairs. “You didn’t tell me you had a piece of ass living here.”
“Stan,” Dad shouted, rushing from the living room. He looked the most sober I’d seen him since we’d moved here. “Leave her alone.”
“Why?” Stan asked, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. He licked his lips, his rank breath so bad I was sure it’d be green in the air. “You know how we like to share.”
My dad’s gaze flicked between the two of us, but as he tried to move past Stan, someone grabbed him from behind, not letting him through. “Not her.” He stretched his arm out, but it was no use because a second guy wrapped his arm around his neck from behind, effectively locking him in place. “Leave her out of it.”
Stan tilted his head to the side, staring at me with a different kind of interest. “You clean?”
“Damn fuckin’ straight I am.” My nostrils flared. “Now get the hell out of my way.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, a grin spread over his face, showcasing his rotten teeth. “No can do, princess.” He winked, darting forward, and grabbed me around the neck. His dirty fingernails dug into my soft flesh, promising to leave crescent-shaped bruises behind. “Mommy and Daddy dearest owe us.”
“No!” Dad screamed, trying to fight his way through the wall of bodies separating him and us. “I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”
Stan whirled around and whipped his arm out. “Shut the fuck up!” The glint of something shiny coming from his hand had me stumbling back. A gun. He had a gun. “One more word and I’ll put a bullet in your head and take your little prize and make her mine.” He grabbed his crotch, licking his lips so wide he was practically touching his chin with his tongue. “Understood?”
Dad’s stare met mine, sadness echoing in the same blue eyes that we both shared. “Understood,” he croaked out, backing away and letting me see past him. Mom was sitting in her usual spot on the sofa, her head turned forward, ignoring what was happening only feet away from her.
“Now,” Stan said, turning around and letting his arm drop at his side, but he didn’t let go of the gun. “As I was saying…Mommy and Daddy owe us a debt.” He scratched the side of his head with his grubby finger. “And you are gonna pay it.”
I shook my head so hard I felt my brain rattling in my skull. “No.” My breath burned my lungs as I held it, too scared to move a single inch. “No.”
“Yes.” He saunter
ed toward me, pressing his body against mine and trapping me against the door. I should have left when I had the chance. I should have turned around and walked right out, leaving them to deal with the crooks standing in our apartment.
But no. I’d decided to stop taking shit from them, and now I was here, knowing that whatever would happen next would mark a moment in my life I’d never be able to forget.
I dragged in shallow breaths, trying not to take in his acrid scent. “One job.” He paused, pulling his head back enough so he could stare right into my eyes. “And the debt will be paid.”
“What…” I cleared my throat, everything in me begging to look at my dad where I could still sense him out of the corner of my eye, but I knew I couldn’t take my eyes off Stan. “What job?”
“Just a simple thing really.” His lips quirked. “You get something for us out of a car.” He shrugged, the movement causing his gun to trail over my hand. I jumped at the touch, squeaking. He laughed, so loud, and directly in my face I was sure I’d throw up if he didn’t move away asap. My stomach churned, not just at the smell surrounding me, but at the thought of doing this “simple job.”
There was no such thing as simple when it came to men like him. I’d known it the first time I’d had to steal because there had been no food in the house for three days. I’d known it when the local crew got me to sit on the swing set all day during school vacation so that I could work the debt off that Mom and Dad had run up. They said a little girl hanging around the park was less suspicious, and now, I understood what I’d been doing. It wasn’t trash that I was placing in the bin, it was bags of pills or powders. I was a drug runner. They’d used me to cover their asses, but at least we’d had food on our table that summer.
At least back in our old place I knew the dangers I could run into. I knew the people who would let me take care of it and the ones who wouldn’t take anything but cold hard cash as payment. But here, with these men, I had no idea what I was about to face. But what I did know was that I’d go with them. I’d clean up the mess, just like I always did.
“Fine.” I pushed my shoulders back as much as I could, trapped between Stan and the door. “When?”
“Right now.” He stepped back, waving his gun in the air. “You first.” I reached for the door handle but didn’t look away from him. I knew better than to turn my back on people like him. Not that not looking at my face would have stopped him if he wanted to kill me. The fact was, if he wanted me dead, I’d already be lying in a puddle of blood on the floor with at least one bullet in me. “It goes without saying,” Stan continued as I pulled the door open and took a backward step out into the cooling air. The evenings were dropping in temperature now that fall was heading our way. “If you run, I shoot you.”
“Of course.” I paused on the walkway in front of the apartment doors. “Where to?”
