3. The Debt
Chapter three
The Debt
Monique
My sisters fled.
I stuffed the wooden dagger in my back pocket, grabbed the old shot gun from my closet, and made sure it was loaded with shells. When things really got bad—tips were low, some surprise bill showed up, or food assistance ran out—Jo and I would go to Serenity Forest with our guns. We did some small game hunting—rabbit and birds. Anything to put some meat on the table. Anything to help us survive.
I’d gotten pretty good at mushroom foraging as well, managing to always bring back a pound of wild mushrooms along with a few psychotropics on the side.
Another boom sounded.
I rushed into the living room, took the gun off safety, and aimed the barrel at the door. I didn’t want to put my finger on the trigger yet. I didn’t know who the hell would be coming inside.
All I needed now was to shoot a cop or some drunk idiot slamming into the wrong apartment.
God, when I asked for a change in my life. . .I didn’t mean people breaking into the apartment.
I placed my non-firing hand on the stock, roughly in the middle of the grip and cradled it. With my firing hand, I held the grip of the gun.
The door burst open. Wood cracked. The door frame shattered.
A massive, bald-headed man barreled through. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, he was 6’8, pale, and must’ve weighed over two hundred pounds.
He put those blue eyes on me and shrugged. “My bad, Moni.”
I widened my eyes. “Snow, what the fuck?”
Snow cracked his neck. “Your father fucked up.”
Damn it. How much does Dad owe now?
His brother, Dutch stepped inside, taking up most of the doorway. While he was just as tall as Snow, he didn’t have his brother’s muscle. He wore a black tailored suit with no tie.
Ever since we were kids, Dutch had this odd fascination with this actor named James Dean. I had no idea who the actor was, before Dutch. On the playground, he would spend hours telling me all about him and showing me old black-and-white pictures.
Today, his blonde hair was just like James Dean’s classic pompadour. In the front, the long strands were swept up and back at the top. Both sides were shaved.
Bits of wood fell from the frame and landed on Dutch’s shoulder. He brushed it away and looked at my gun. “Why is it, that every time I come here, someone is always pointing a gun at me? First your father, and now you.”
I took a step back. “Dutch, what are you doing? Why didn’t you just knock or—?”
Ignoring me, he pointed to Snow. “Remember long ago when her father pointed that gun at me?”
Snow chuckled. “I remember. You shit your pants.”
Dutch glared. “I didn’t shit my fucking pants. I wasn’t scared at all.”
Snow blinked in confusion. “But your jeans were all wet and brown in the back. Remember? We had to sneak in the house through the back so Dad wouldn’t see us and beat our—”
“Enough!” Dutch turned back to me. “Put the gun down, Moni.”
I kept the barrel pointed at him. “What did my dad do now?”
“He came into the casino last night. I invited him into a high roller blackjack game.”
I trembled. “Why would you do that? He didn’t have any money.”
“He was drunk,” Snow said. “He offered you guys up.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
Dutch smiled. “He offered you and your sisters up as collateral.”
“He can’t do that.” I shook my head. “He doesn’t own us.”
“Yeah. I found the whole thing comical.” Dutch gazed around the living room. “I never took him seriously, but I let him play anyway.”
Three guys entered, dressed in jeans and T-shirts.
“Okay.” I focused the barrel on Dutch’s head. “Tell your people to stop coming in or I’ll shoot.”
“Do you know that I fell for you because you’re such a bad ass?” Dutch winked at me. “That shit is so sexy, but put the gun down, Moni.”
I moved my firing hand and placed my finger on the trigger. “Why are you here, Dutch? I haven’t seen my Dad since my mother’s funeral. As far as I’m concerned, I buried both of them on that day.”
Snow frowned. “Did you get our flowers?”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
Snow beamed. “I picked them.”
Dutch gestured at his three men. “Would you mind if my people look for your dad?”
“He’s not here.”
“I want to confirm it.”
I shivered a little and then stepped to the side, giving the entrance to the hallway and me a wide berth. “Go ahead.”
They hurried around.
“I like those pajamas.” Dutch smiled. “I was never a Cookie Monster lover. My favorite was Big Bird.”
“I loved Oscar the Grouch,” Snow added.
“I heard you’re waitressing at Scarlett’s Exotic Lounge.” Dutch traveled his gaze over me. Lust filled his eyes. “You know that career track leads straight to hoeing.”
“Sure does.” Snow bobbed his head.
“The waitresses can’t help it.” Dutch shrugged. “At the end of the night, they see all the dancers shoveling up loads of money off the stage. And they’re just standing on the side, exhausted in their heels. Next thing you know, the waitress decides to be a stripper. Then the right customer offers a thousand dollars for a blow job. . .and now she’s hoeing.”
I frowned. “I’m just going to be a waitress.”
Dutch tilted his head to the side. “Until when?”
“Until I do what I want to do?”
Dutch raised his brows. “And what’s that?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.”
He wagged his finger. “Moni still doesn’t know her passion.”
“My passion is killing people.” Snow showed me his gun.
“Now, that’s a passion that makes good money.” Dutch winked at his brother. “I, myself, am into making money anyway I can. I’d say that is a passion. Don’t you agree, Moni?”
“It could definitely be considered as one.”
“But you don’t have a passion?”
“Not yet.”
“I expected more from you.” Dutch licked his lips. “In fact, I could give you more.”
I swallowed.
His men hurried back from the rooms.
One handed Dutch my purse. “He’s not there.”
Dutch took the purse and continued to watch me. “And her sisters?”
“Not here either.”
My finger shivered against the trigger. “You don’t need my sisters for anything.”
“Unfortunately, I do, Moni.” Dutch placed his hands in front of him. “Your dad played the game and lost. We would have happily let him walk out without paying us. We knew he didn’t have any money in the first place.”
Snow scowled. “But then he jumped up, grabbed the high roller bag on the table, and raced out of there.”
Dutch shrugged. “I’m still impressed that he was able to do it.”
I trembled in fear. “How much did he take?”
“$75,000.”
My stomach dropped. It was difficult to remain standing. “Dutch, I don’t even have 75 dollars right now.”
“Let’s see.” Dutch opened my bag and turned it over. All the contents fell out—lipstick, loose change, car keys, sticks of gum, and a rubber band-stack of TT’s biology flash cards.
One of the men picked up my wallet and pulled out wrinkled dollars from last night. He turned the pile in his hands. “This looks like thirty, maybe forty dollars.”
“So sad.” Dutch whistled. “Good old dad didn’t come by to help his beautiful daughters out?”
“He didn’t.”
“I don’t believe that.” Dutch smiled. “You think I’m stupid, Moni?”
“No.”
“Where’s your sisters?”
“School and—”
“You’re lying!”
I jumped.
Dutch sighed. “You know how I feel about you. Don’t take advantage of that.”
“I’m not, Dutch. I-I swear.”
Snow smirked in disbelief. “Then, where are your sisters?”
“When I heard all the noise at the door, I told them to run down the fire escape.”
Dutch screwed his eyes at me. “You’re five floors up.”
“They’re not scared of heights.”
“And your father hasn’t come by?”
“No.”
Dutch shrugged. “If I can’t find him, then you owe me.”
I trembled. “P-please, Dutch. Don’t do that. All I did last night was work. I have nothing to do with this.”
“It’s a simple fix, Moni.” Dutch held his hands out to the side. “You know what I want.”
“A date?”
“For $75,000, I want more than a date.” Dutch looked around. “You’ll be with me. All mine. Right in my bed and always by my side.”
“I c-can’t leave my sisters here—”
“They’ll be with us too.”
I shook my head. “I’m not raising my sisters in a hotel casino.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Dutch pointed his finger at me. “And that’s not it.”
Worry gripped my heart. “What else?”
“Jo is going to have to put on a wig, walk the street for me, and make at least $10,000—”
“No—”
“She’ll have choice of selling ass on the street or at the hotel—”
“Absolutely not.” The shot gun shook in my trembling hands.
I could kill Dutch and maybe get Snow.
“That’s not it.” Dutch smiled. “Chloe turns 18 next month, right? I can’t tell you how many guys from the neighborhood have discussed that very topic. Her virginity would be worth a whole lot.”
I eyed the three guys. They probably could have me before I pulled the trigger at Snow.
“I know what you’re thinking, Moni.” Dutch wagged his finger at me. “If you kill me or Snow, then you have a bigger problem. My father was at the game too.”
Snow gave me a sad smile. “And he expects an immediate solution.”
“I. . .could. . .” I gained control of myself. “I could find my father and get the money.”
Dutch and Snow exchanged glances.
“I know all of his spots.”
Snow shrugged. “I could go with her.”
“No.” I shook my head. “If he sees you, then he’ll run. If he sees that it’s just me, then I have a chance to get the money.”
Dutch leaned his head to the side. “What if he’s miles from here?”
“H-he loves us,” I lied. “He’s probably watching the apartment now, waiting for you all to leave.”
Dutch turned to Snow. “What do you think?”
“Dad went to Paradise to meet with the mayor,” Snow said. “He won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”
Dutch looked at me. “Then, you have until ten this evening to show up with my bag of money.”
“T-thank you, Dutch.”
“And if you don’t have the money, then I expect your sisters to be with you, when you move in with me.”
Dutch winked. “And regardless of if you get the money or not, you still owe me some special time .”
“Okay.” Disgust coiled through me. “Can I get my forty dollars back. I need to ride the bus while I search for him.”
Dutch frowned. “Kermit is out again?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe, this is a good thing. It’s a damn shame you’ve been living in this filth for so long. I’ve told you over and over how much I can help you.” Dutch gestured at his man.
The guy came back, slung the bills at the ground, and headed away.
“I’ll see you later.” Dutch blew me a kiss. “And make sure this shot gun isn’t with you when you show up.”
“See you, Moni.” Snow left.
Dutch drank me in for another second. “Bring those pajamas with you too. I think I’m starting to like Cookie Monster after all.”
When they left, I rushed to my phone, grabbed it, and dialed my dad. While it rang in my ear, I hurried to my room and quickly took off my pajama pants.
He never picked up.
When his voice mail beeped, I spoke, “Dad, get the money back to Dutch now! They’re talking about taking us. Your daughters! If you care about us like you’ve said you do, then fix this. Please! Call me back!”
I dialed Chloe’s phone and hurried with putting my jeans on.
Chloe answered on the first ring. “Moni?”
“I’m okay.”
Chloe cried, “W-what was that? Why did it take you so long to—”
“Chloe, calm down.” I opened my dresser drawer and pulled out the unopened birthday card from my father. It had his address on it. “I’m okay—”
“I thought y-you might h-have been killed or raped or—”
“Chloe, put Jo on the phone.” Having no time, I kept my pajama top on, grabbed my leather jacket, and rushed out of the door.
Chloe whined, “But what’s going on, Moni?”
“I’ll catch you up, when everyone is safe, Chloe. Okay? Everything is going to be okay.” I stuffed the birthday card in my jacket’s pocket. “Please, put Jo on the phone.”
Jo’s voice came on. “What the fuck?”
“Stop cursing.”
“Can we come back?”
“Hell no.” I slung on my sneakers and hurried into the living room. “I need you to get a ride to South Paradise. Take Chloe and TT. You all must stay with Aunt Betty.”
“Man, we haven’t seen them since the funeral. They’re going to be looking at us crazy.”
“Make something up, but when Banks gets home, tell him what happened.” I searched for my wallet and realized Dutch’s man still had it along with all my identification.
“You sure you want Banks in on this? He’s crazy—”
“Dad stole $75,000 from Dutch.”
“Fuck!”
“Stop cursing.” I rushed out of the apartment.
“Who cares if I’m cursing. We’re fucked—”
“Come on, Jo. Just stop cursing. It gives me balance.” I rushed down the hallway and hit the stairs. “Get to Aunt Betty’s house. And don’t steal a car. We don’t need any more problems. See if one of your girls will take you all as quickly as possible.”
“Okay. We’re at Sal’s ordering pancakes. TT is excited.”
“Get them to-go and head to South Paradise.”
“We will, but what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to look for Dad at his spot in Chinatown and see if I can fix this.” I rushed down the flights of stairs. “Stay safe and text me as soon as you get a ride. Then, text me to let me know you got there.”
“Okay, Moni.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, sis.”
I hung up, made it to the first floor, and ran through the lobby, almost bumping into a woman holding her kid’s hand. “Sorry.”
I was out of the building next.
Damn you, Dad.