Don’t fight them. Except I can’t seem to stop.
“Open it,” Daddy says, his voice fearful now. “It will be worse if we don’t.”
I leave the chain in place while I open the door, a feeble defense. A sliver of Jonathan Scott appears, as slick and as smooth as ever. “You,” I say, surprised my voice doesn’t tremble.
“Me. May I come inside?” It’s not really a question.
“Who are you?” I say, because I’m stalling. I want Damon to magically appear in the dimly lit hallway, but he won’t. He won’t make it in time. What will happen without him?
What will happen to bait when the trap doesn’t work? It gets eaten.
“The owner of this building.”
I swallow hard. He’s the owner? Which means that he already has access to my apartment. He can come inside. He can burn the place down for all that the law can touch him.
“You’re not the super,” I say, still stalling.
“He works for me.”
The super is a disgusting human being, which suits this place perfectly. Hurry, Damon. “How do I know I can trust you?”
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.
He smiles. “You definitely can’t trust me. Run and tell your daddy that Jonathan Scott is here.”
I slam the door shut, staring at the peeling white paint on the door, the rusted metal chain. “Oh God,” I whisper. “What do we do?”
There’s a brief but potent fantasy where I fling myself out of the window. Three stories down. That would be enough to end things, wouldn’t it? That would be enough to save me?
Bodies want to go on living, no matter what happens to them.
It only makes it worse.
“Open the door,” Daddy says, his voice panicked.
“Help is on the way. We just have to let this play out.” I take deep breaths. My voice comes out even. Only my blurring vision gives any hint to the turmoil inside. “Everything will be fine.”
It doesn’t even sound like a lie.
A sound of an animal in pain fills the room. It’s coming from Daddy. Not me, not me. “I’m sorry, Penny. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t think he’d come here.”
There’s a wrench in my chest. A horrible turn of grief already tight. “What did you do?”
“I entered the poker game.”
I’m not even a person anymore. Not flesh and blood. None of the soft curves the men would want. I’m clockwork, made of metal and wood. Unfeeling. Unflinching in the face of familial betrayal. “How is that possible? How could you do that without my permission?”
How could I mean so little to you?
That’s not what I’m asking. I want to know the mechanics of it.
Which gears turned to make this beating heart.
He uses his damp T-shirt to wipe his forehead. “I told them you agreed.”
“And if I open the door and tell him I refuse?”
His face turns pale. “Then I’d have broken my word to Jonathan Scott.”
And we both know what that would mean. Death. A particularly painful one.
The irony is that I would probably still be part of the pot. That’s the merciless version of justice he used to rule the streets. It would mean the end of us both. Mutually assured destruction. Neither of us have a choice now.
Then I’m opening the door, inviting the devil inside. “Come in.”
He stalks into the apartment as if he owns it, which he does. His cool grey gaze takes in my father and his broken knee with a single, disdainful glance.
Daddy struggles to stand. And fails. “Mr. Scott,” he says. “What can we do for you?”
What a sad attempt at valiance. That makes my heart squeeze in a way his apology never could. Who am I to blame my father for his addictions? He couldn’t control them anymore than I could make my brain into something else.
Jonathan Scott gestures to the lumpy armchair as if it’s a gold-plated antique in his palace. “Please sit down, George. Don’t strain yourself on my account.”
Daddy shudders a little, his good leg already failing him. I move quickly to help him. There’s no point in overexerting himself. Nothing he does would stop this.
Jonathan Scott takes the maroon corduroy sofa. Somehow his presence makes it seem like a throne. “I understand my son has been to visit you.”
My heart stops. Damon Scott was here, in our apartment? Daddy didn’t tell me that. Was that before or after I went to the Den? He might see it as a kindness to harass my father instead of me.
“I told him we’d get it,” Daddy says, breathing hard. “I swear.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Jonathan Scott says, his voice underlaid with steel. “There’s no way for you to get ten thousand dollars. Little Penny could serve a hundred pies a day, and you’d never be able to pay.”
I’ve had enough.
“Stop it,” I say, because I’m the reason he’s really here. “Leave him alone.”
A flash of excitement crosses Jonathan Scott’s face, sending a shiver down my spine. He likes it when I talk back, when I fight. That’s what Jessica told me, but I told her the truth. I don’t think I can let him. Like I’m underwater. The body will fight to breathe.
His voice is mild. “I could. Leave him alone, I mean. If you want me to.”
It was always leading to this. I try to keep my voice steady. “What do you mean?”
“Ten thousand dollars.” He pulls out a thick envelope. I can guess what’s inside. Money. It’s his gamble. In this rundown tenement, his odds are good. “Would you like this, Penny?”
“No, leave her out of this,” Daddy says. “She didn’t have nothing to do with it.”
“You’ll have to give the money to Damon yourself,” Jonathan Scott says to Daddy, his dark liquid gaze still trained on me. “Do you think you could manage that? Or would you gamble again, hoping to turn it into twenty or thirty thousand?”
We may not need to give that money to Damon Scott, but Daddy doesn’t know that. It still hurts to think he might trade my life for one last gamble. Then again isn’t that what he always does?
“I’ll make sure he gets it,” I say, imagining myself waiting in the apartment for him. How safe I would be. It’s enough to make me laugh, if I was capable of smiling. What an illusion, safety. The impressive thing isn’t what I can do with numbers, with lines and curves in my head. The impressive thing is that I ever believed, even for one moment, that home would be safe.
“You won’t,” Jonathan Scott says, casual in his dismissal.
“Why not?” I say, almost a whisper.
“You’ll be with me.”
With him, where Damon can find me. Where Damon can save me.
At least I hope so.
“No!” Daddy fights to stand. And fails. “You can’t do this.”
Jonathan Scott gives me a smile that’s almost handsome. If I didn’t know how evil he was I could have been fooled. It’s enough to prove he doesn’t have to force girls. With his smooth silver fox looks and his money he could have anyone he wanted. He prefers to force.
“It’s up to you,” he says.