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He knows just as well as I do that she’s the easier mark, and he’s right, because she instantly caves.
“What are you doing here, Dad?” she asks. “Is everything okay?”
“’Course it is, ’course it is.” He pulls out the stained handkerchief again and dabs at his face. “I just, uh… just wanted to see how life is treating you two. School out for the summer yet, Chlo?”
She shrugs one shoulder and shakes her head. She’s got a few weeks left, and she knows just as well as I do that he doesn’t actually give a shit. The only thing he’s accomplished by asking her for a piece of information he should’ve already known is to prove what a bad father he is.
He glances back over his shoulder, then shuffles a few more feet into the apartment. “And how about you, Riley? Got any, uh, plans for the summer?”
What I’ve got is zero patience for this bullshit, and the antsy way he’s acting is setting my teeth on edge.
“Did you miss the part where I told you to leave?” I ask coolly. “I don’t care what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into this time. You’re not welcome here.”
He laughs nervously, as if any part of what I just said was a joke.
Chloe takes a step sideways so that she can see him again. “What about you, Dad? Are you still, um, what was it? Something about selling car parts?”
He grimaces, although it might have been meant as a smile, and waves a hand in the air. “Yeah, no, uh, the import-export thing, it… well, guess you could say it sort of fell through.” He clears his throat and glances back over his shoulder again. “I’ve moved on. Am moving on. Er, trying to.”
“Oh? To what?” my sister asks.
Frank starts spinning some bullshit answer, and I roll my eyes. Whatever pie he’s got his fingers in now, it’s pretty much guaranteed to “fall through” just like his little chop shop did. Probably because he’s always too busy trying to figure out how to score a quick buck to actually work for a living.
I’m done waiting for him to get to the inevitable point. In fact, the way he hasn’t gotten to the point yet is starting to give me a bad feeling. That, and the fact that he’s still sweating.
Whatever’s got him so nervous, I want no part of it.
“We don’t care,” I interrupt, cutting him off mid-sentence. “And like I said, it’s time for you to leave.”
This apartment may not be much, but it’s the home I’ve made for Chloe and me. Our safe space. And I’ll be damned if I let him ruin that.
“Well now, I can’t… can’t do that yet,” he says, swallowing hard. He glances over his shoulder again, looking strung out and haunted. “I’m sorry.”
The heavy sound of footsteps filters in from the hallway outside, and I grimace. The last thing I want to do is air our dirty laundry in front of the other tenants in our shitty building, so I grab Frank’s arm and push him bodily toward the door.
“Get out,” I hiss. “Now.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, whining and stinking of sweat as he grabs onto the doorjamb and resists when I try to shove him through it. “I had no choice. I got… I got in too far over my head.”
“Not our problem.”
Frank swallows. “You gotta understand, I couldn’t come up with the money any other way. They were gonna kill me, Riley.”
As he finishes speaking, a small group of men appear in the doorway behind him… and my breath catches as I realize that they’re all armed.
“Riley?” Chloe says from behind me, sounding just as scared as I’m suddenly feeling.
The newcomers push Frank aside and then brush right past me as they barge into our apartment.
The last one inside is a man with dark, slicked-back hair, hazel eyes, and a long, straight nose. There’s a cruel twist to his lips as his gaze flicks around the room, and he grabs my arm in a bruising hold, then turns toward Frank. “This Chloe?”
Ice fills my veins.Fuck.
“Yes,” I lie at the same time that Frank proves exactly how spineless he is by pointing to my sister.
“No, Chloe is that one,” he mutters.
The low-browed brute standing next to her yanks her against his side with a leer.
