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And Pops, the blood around him turning dark and crusty since his bleeding has pretty much stopped, cowers under the menacing form of Vadik. From the floor, he nods slightly at first, and then with a bit more vigor. “I have… gambling debts, Charleigh. A lot of them. Debts I owe to these guys.”
That can’t be. I know Pops plays cards. Poker games of all kinds. But he plays friendly games with his buddies. Not for money. Not real money, anyway. Just change. Quarters, nickels, dimes. That sort of thing.
I look at the Alekseev brothers, who stare back with blank expressions. This must be business as usual for them. Just another day at the office, roughing up someone who got on their wrong side.
Bastards. Fury grows in me and I get ready to tell them off. But my tongue is tied.
Vadik’s blue-eyed stare takes me right back to that moment in the funeral home where our eyes met. I didn’t know anything about him. Hell, I still don’t. But his penetrating stare, two years ago, shook me to my core. I inexplicably dreamt of him for weeks after that day. And his gaze today is no less intense. I tear myself away from his scrutiny as a protective measure. Like if I let him look at me for too long, I’ll be under his spell. He’ll gobble my soul alive, leaving me nothing but a shell.
I’m afraid he’s already doing that.
How can I feel such a strange attraction to someone who’s hurt my father? What kind of daughter am I?
But I have other, more important things to figure out right now.
“Pops? If you have debts, why don’t you just pay them? You have money, right? Let’s pay these men and get them off your back.”
My father looks up at me from the floor, the blood dried to a muddy stain on his previously white shirt. He extends my hoodie toward me. I take it even though I plan to chuck it, first chance I get. “Char,” he says in a soft voice, “if I had the cash, I’d give it to them. For fuck’s sake.”
Oh.
I see. And, as much as I’d like, there’s little I can do to help. Every cent I earn helping out in the pawn shop goes to my bookkeeping courses, where I hope to earn myself a certificate that will allow me a profession that’s respectable. Like my sister in New York.
Where I’ll sit behind a desk and get deli sandwiches for lunch every day. Where I can buy a couple nice skirts and blouses at someplace other than Target, as well as the kind of trench coat I see the office girls wearing to work in the warmer Illinois months. They look so chic, with their high-heeled pumps, nice handbags, and glossy lipstick. They are important. They do important work. They go to meetings and they take notes.
I know all this because my instructor tells me this is how bookkeepers work. She says I’ll never get rich, but I’ll be comfortable.
Which is fine by me. I don’t need a lot of money. Just enough to take occasional weekend trips to see a show in Chicago. Enjoy a nice dinner out. Buy my sisters the sort of birthday presents they deserve.
But until I finish my certificate, I have none of these things. Which is okay, because I know if I work hard, Iwillhave them.
This is no help to my father’s situation, though.
“Hey!” I shout as the younger brother, Niko, takes a step toward my father. My sharp voice stops him in his tracks, and an amused expression washes over his face.
Like these guys give a crap what I think.
“Gates, you have twenty-four hours to come up with the money you owe us,” he says softly in my dad’s direction, like he doesn’t want to be the heavy.
“No!” Dad wails. “I can’t get it that fast. C’mon guys. I’ve known you for years. I was friends with your father.”
Kir scoffs. “You sponged off my father, Gates. You were no friend of his.”
Oh my god. That’s why we were at that funeral. The one Pops didn’t want to go to alone.
Ever since Mother died, he can’t go to funerals by himself.
The brothers head toward the door with me right on their tail.
“Honey,” Victoria says, reaching for my arm.
I brush right past her.
“Look. Gentlemen,” I say, choking on the word, “can we work something out here? Like a payment plan?”
Vadik looks at me sadly. Fine, I don’t know how this stuff works. But there are always multiple solutions to any problem.
Right?
