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“Hand? Just one more hand? That is the story every single time. You don’t think about what happens next. Everything is about the moment.” I don’t like where this is going. “Where were you?” He looks away telling me everything I need to know. He doesn’t need to answer. But I want to be wrong. I hope I am wrong. “Dad,” I yell.
“I was with Benny. Everything was under control. I swear, pumpkin, they set me up.” A parent wouldn’t put their child through the shit he puts me through. Sometimes I feel like I am the parent. I am the only one who cares.
“Where?” I demand.
“Bluehorn.”
“Fuck.”
“Pumpkin,” he starts.
“Don’t pumpkin me. Out of all the places did you really have to go there? He warned you, Dad. He told you he would kill you if you went back.”
“I wasn’t betting with Joe’s money.”
“Whose money if not your bookie? I need to know who would be stupid enough to give you money.” He looks away. I’m pacing, anger rising, trying not to say anything I might regret. I am pretty sure I don’t want to know. I am not going to like his answer. Whatever name he gives me is going to be worse than Joe. “Whose money? No one is dumb enough to lend you a dime.”
“Don’t worry about it. Everything is fine. I’ll fix it.” Now I know I need to worry. His avoidance worries me. He knows it’s going to be bad. Who could it be?
“How is a black eye and bloody shirt ok?” He is quiet. “I want to know. I deserve to know.” We both know I am the one who will pay it off. I always have to. He has nothing.
“I will pay the money back. You don’t have to worry.”
“Why are you dodging the question? I want to know. This affects me too.” I stand in front of him. He won’t look at me.
“The Manarch Clan.” I can’t believe him. He had to borrow from the most ruthless family known to man. They are the Scottish Mafia who run this city. They don’t care about anyone. I start pacing again.
“How much?” I rub my temple.
“One-hundred-thousand.” I stop pacing and look at him. I don’t think I heard right. It’s not possible. It’s a ridiculous amount. He wouldn’t be so stupid.
“Let me get this straight. You owe the mafia one-hundred-thousand dollars.”
“Yes.” He replies even though I wasn’t asking.
“What is the timeline?”
“One week.”
I shake my head. I am hoping I will wake up from this nightmare. Unfortunately I see it in his eyes that he is telling the truth. For both of our sakes I leave the apartment. If I speak at this moment it will be in anger. I won’t be able to measure my words. He is still my father. I owe him respect even if he doesn’t deserve it. I hear him call my name but I ignore him. There isn’t anything he can say that will make this right. It makes me wonder if he cares about me at all. If he truly did he wouldn’t do this to me. I close the door, putting as much distance between him and me as I can. I need space to think.
I was already exhausted from a full shift at the boutique. My intent was to come home and get a few hours of rest before my shift at the club. Fifty hours at the boutique, four nights at the club as a waitress and it isn’t enough. We are barely living paycheck to paycheck. We are drowning in debt. I can’t count on Dad. Any money he touches is gone before it reaches his pocket. I wonder if he cares about the consequences of his actions. His gambling is not just affecting him. I’m the one taking care of everything including his debt. I am his personal ATM. I earn it and he spends it. I’m still paying off his last loan from Joe. One hundred dollars a week until I pay off the five thousand he owes. That might not seem like a lot to some people but for us, it’s the difference between eating or being homeless.
Where am I supposed to get one hundred thousand dollars? I can’t even picture that much money in one place. Let alone in my dad’s hands. Why would anyone in their right mind loan him so much money? Everyone knows about his gambling. They know my father is a terrible player. He never wins. Perhaps that is why they gave him the money. He is an easy target.
Most people don’t lend him money because of me. They feel sorry for me. Shit, I feel sorry for myself. I don’t know what to do or where to start. Before I know it, I am in front of Nathan’s building. We’ve been dating on and off for the last three years. I ring the bell but he doesn’t answer. It’s six. He is probably taking a shower to go to work. I take my keys and open the door to his apartment. I hear the shower running. This is exactly what I need. A steamy session to release this stress. But then I spot the stilettos, followed by the red bra, leather pants, and top. He has done it again. I am not doing this with him. I am tired of his lies and bullshit. I refuse to waste any more of my time with him. I take a picture of the clothes leading to the bathroom. I leave the keys on the counter and text the picture. He should get the idea.
Everything around me is falling apart. I can’t catch a break. Every man in my life is sucking the life out of me. I am left in despair. What the fuck am I supposed to do? I didn’t exactly expect Nathan to do anything. He is useless. I just wanted a little emotional support. We are supposed to be a couple being true to one another. I guess some people never change. I can’t believe I took him at his word that he regretted everything he put me through last time and loved me. He begged for me to forgive him. Against my better judgment, I did. I should have listened to my gut and not him.
It doesn’t matter how upset I might be with my dad. He is my only family. We have to be there for each other. When Mom walked out, she left us with nothing.He did the best he could with what he had until his gambling became an addiction. I walk to a nearby park and sit. I need a plan. One week. It is insane to say the least.
There is only one thing I can do. I need to meet with the leader of the Manarch Clan and work out a deal. Maybe he will give me some sort of payment plan. Shit. This fucking sucks. I stand and start walking. Fuck it. I will demand a deal to pay off the debt. It’s the only move I have.
I walk to the restaurant where the Manarch Clan are known to be. It’s smack in the middle of the city. The unspoken place. No one dares to say it out loud but everyone knows who they are. They own the streets. The Manarch’s are the Mafia. Neither the Italians nor the Irish have anything on them. I am less than one hundred feet from the front door and my heart is racing. I take a deep breath. I can do this. I can’t show fear or they will eat me alive.
I open the door. If I wanted to turn back it’s too late now. I can’t back out. I am already here and don’t have any other options. With my head held high, I walk to the hostess stand. It’s loud and filled with people. I am pretty sure this is a huge mistake. I might not even make it out of here alive but I don’t have a choice. I have to try. There is no other way. I can’t let them kill Dad if I can do something about it.
“Welcome, how can I help you?” A young blonde greets. She is looking at me like I have lost my mind. Honestly, I probably have. I shouldn’t be here and her eyes are telling me just that.
