Chapter 2

Karina

“NO! THAT’S LIMITED EDITION!” Mum screams as I scrape through her closet for things we can sell to thrift stores to get money. We can get about ten grand from her closet and jewelry. L’esattore won’t make us vanish if we can get him ten grand, I reason hopefully.

Raine would be safe and I can get a second job or a loan from a less dangerous loan shark. I’m not dumb enough to try and escape or call the police. That would make him want to make us vanish for sure. I try not to think of where I would get the rest of the money from. The money I can scrape from Mum’s closet is as far as I would let myself think.

“That was Aaron’s last gift to me!” She screams as I pack up a cashmere sweater.

Well, Dad’s last gift to me and Raine was debt, so I’m not keen on those. It’s late right now but I've called a few thrift stores that would like to take on her clothes. I've even called a jeweler who would like to assess her gold and diamonds.

She pulls the sweater from me and I hold on to it. It's butt ugly, but bloody expensive too. There's no way I’ll let some Mafia boss wipe us off the face of the earth. We carry out a sort of tug of war on it and I hear a rip. 

Fuck.

“Stop being a fucking child!” I scream back at her, shocking her into silence. I’m a bit shocked too, but way too angry to stop. My sister hates me, I have a job I hate to get back to, and I can't sort my mixed feeling for my dad out because he screwed is over and kicked the bucket but he's still my father and I feel like I’m drowning.

“Karina... “ She begins.

“You will listen to me and listen properly,” I say through gritted teeth. “We’re all going to die if you don't let go of this. You and your husband have fucked Raine and me up enough and if you’re not going to give it to me, I’ll burn it all up in front of you, kill you and kill myself!”

She is so stunned that she lets me have the ripped sweater.

“Karina... Karina, wake up!” I hear Raine say through a fog of disturbing dreams of L’esattore making us vanish. She is shaking me awake. I want to burrow deeper under the covers.

“The thrift stores don't open up till seven,” I say sleepily. “Mum’s gone.”

That snaps us awake faster than anything else ever had. I fall off the bed, knocking my shins into the nightstand. Raine’s eyes are huge and teary as she stares up at me. I walk past her to Mum’s room.

Mum’s room is emptied. Everything of value has been taken. The jewelry, the clothes, the shoes...

All gone.

I try to get past the feeling of sinking. We’re all broke. She couldn’t possibly get far without any money and even selling jewelry takes time. I can find her. It may take a bit of money to track her, but she can't be far away.

“I’ll find her.” I say, making my way to Raine’s room to get to the overnight bag I had packed to stay here. My phone is in there, as well as my wallet and credit card. I undo the zip and an ominous feeling washes over me.

No. She couldn’t possibly be that selfish...

My phone is intact as well as my clothes and wallet. My credit card is gone.

I know that they are going to contact me at the end of the week and unfailingly, they do. At this point, I want it all to be over. I barely have enough sleep to get through the day. My unpaid leave is almost over. My sister still doesn’t want to talk to me. Following Mum scamming me, I actually understand her more. Raine is at a friend’s house right now— thank God she made good friends.

I’ve thought of everything from selling my kidneys to robbing the bank. I’m almost relieved when the text comes in. L’esattore may want to torture me before killing me off, but at least this feeling of hopelessness would come to an end.

The message is a simple one. ECSTASY, 8:00 PM.

I know Ecstasy. Hell, everyone knows Ecstasy. The high end casino on the high end part of town. Executives at the printing press go there on Friday nights to gamble away the money that the salary workers slave for. It’s so high end that landed property switches hands like nickels in there.

I feel tears burning the back of my eyes and I wonder if I should just kill myself. Of all the casinos in LA, Dad had to pick the one most likely to dry us out. And kill us in the process. I look at the clock. It’s 5:30. I clock out and head back to my apartment—our house is on the verge of being foreclosed and I don't have it in me to fight for it—for a shower. I avoid the

mirror as I dress in a black dress that I usually wear to conventions. It has a high neckline and its hem brushes my calves. I throw a threadbare black coat over my shoulders and force my feet into a pair of punishing black heels. If I’m going to my death, I should be as well dressed as I can.

I take a taxi to Ecstasy and I can tell the driver is surprised that someone like me would be going to Ecstasy. Same here, brother.

My toes are already numb from pain by the time I stand in front of the casino. It’s vaguely familiar. The black and gold interior, the muted conversation, the smell of expensive whiskey.

How much of Dad’s million dollars had been spent on this whiskey? How much had been spent on the cigars and the roulette tables and cards?

A sense of resignation washes over me and I want nothing more than just to end this. If he kills me off, I can handle that. I just need to make sure he stays away from Raine.

“Miss Hardings?” I hear a familiar voice say.

“Tax Collector?” I blurt out, kicking myself mentally. I hear him chuckle.

He is wearing another suit. He looks at me, obviously searching for the briefcase containing the hundreds of thousands of dollars that I do not have.

“Call me Manuel. Come with me.”

He takes my elbow and guides me to an elevator guarded by more mountain sized men in suits. He nods to them as we pass.

“Brave little thing, aren’t you?” He remarks as the elevator slides shut behind us. I purse my lips.

“I need an extension on the loan.” I say coolly, even though I feel like crumpling into the floor.

“If we gave everyone extensions on the loan payment, we would have been run out of business.” He says dryly. The elevator dings and slide open. The office is a penthouse suite overlooking the city. There is a floor to ceiling window overlooking the casino. It is sparsely furnished, but with things that I can tell are extremely expensive. There's no doubt that one of the ornaments on the shelf can pay my loan off.

The air is cool, almost frigid. I wrap my coat tighter around myself. There is a man behind the large mahogany desk. He has a pair of reading glasses over a pair of bright blue eyes. He has an aristocratic nose and a strong jawline and high cheekbones. His brows are set

low over his eyes. Despite the seemingly harmless picture his sitting behind the desk paints, I can sense deep-rooted ruthlessness in him. He seems to emanate so much strength and rigidity.

I’m fucked.

I think of the drawing books I have stashed at my apartment. He would be interesting to sketch. I think, from a twisted part of my brain, that I would like to paint him before he makes me vanish.

He rubs a thumb over a well structured lower lip thoughtfully. “Please excuse us, Manuel.” He says in a slightly accented voice. Manuel nods and walks out, the door shutting behind him with an air of finality.

“Sit.” He says.

I do as he says on the seat opposite his.

“I don't have it.” I blurt out. He does not even spare me a glance. I bite my lip. “IsaidI...”

“Oh, I heard you.” He says dryly. “So why are you here?”

My lips part and close up. Then part again. I must look like a fish.

He sighs resignedly, shutting a folder he had been scribbling on.

“Okay.” He says, looking in my eyes. “Would you prefer to be bent over my desk?”