Chapter One
Present
“This meeting will be quick, I promise you, sweetheart,” her father commented.
Yasmin glanced at his trembling hands on the steering wheel and let out a sigh. He deserved another tongue-lashing, but starting an argument now wouldn’t help either of them. She bit her lip and stared out the windows, her stomach knotting. She wiped her sweaty palms over her dress.
When she moved in back with him a month ago, what did she expect? That he’d change after all this time? Once an addict, always an addict. Yasmin had been helping him pay off his gambling debts since high school. No surprise he’d managed to dig himself another hole so soon.
“Don’t you have work today?” he asked.
Larry was extra chatty today. For conversation’s sake maybe, but it was a laughable attempt. He’d never been around when she needed him.
“I got laid off my job, remember?” Yasmin didn’t add she’d lost her job at the diner thanks to him.
Larry knew she had a hard-ass boss who didn’t tolerate any of his staff being late, but he’d use his one phone call from the local jail, begging her to bail him out.Again.When she moved out to a different city with her then-boyfriend, she’d thought the days of getting Larry out of jail were over. In the end, she returned full circle, back to the crappy apartment she grew up with, jobless and still nursing a broken heart.I can do better than a fat bitch like you, were the hurtful words her ex hurled at her. Even now, they still stung. She’d spent her entire life feeling uncomfortable with her body shape. Brad had told her he didn't care, but that just proved what a slick liar he was.
“Ah. Right. I could use a drink right now. Hand me that bottle inside the compartment in front of you.”
Yasmin stared at him in disbelief, then pursed her lips. “No. We both need to be sober, alert. Jesus. Do you have any idea how much trouble we’re in? We can’t call the police because we’re meeting the friggin’ kingpin who has them in his pockets.”
She practically yelled out the last words. Her heart beat so fast, it threatened to burst out of her chest. Whoever said keeping emotions inside was helpful? Yasmin thought if she could go in with a cool head, a plan, then they might just sort out this mess in a logical manner. She was wrong. It took all of her self-control not to puke in the car.
She dug her nails into her palms. The pain helped her think. Yasmin breathed in and out.
“You’re putting me on edge,” he grumbled. “No one asked you to go with me.”
“You did, last night,” she told him dryly. “You were probably too drunk to remember.”
She reached out for the faded photograph on the car dashboard, lost in a sea of old burger wrappers and empty cigarette boxers. Yasmin fingered the edge. Stains covered the picture, but she could still make out three smiling strangers. A happy family looked back at her, before things turned for the worse.
I’m sorry, Mom, I can’t keep my promise. It’s too hard watching over Dad when he’s hellbent on a path to self-destruction. When you passed away, he died, too, and a stranger took his place.
Yasmin tucked the photo inside her handbag. Larry didn’t seem to notice. When, she wondered, had she started calling him by his first name? When he stopped giving a fuck about her life and decided he was done being a dad?
“Fine. Stop the car. I’ll get off and you can deal with Anatoli and his guys,” she said in a hard voice she hardly recognized.
Silence. Yasmin waited for it, for his tune to change. Larry didn’t slow down the car.
“Please, sweetheart. Don’t be like that. You know sometimes I say shit I don’t mean. I could really use the emotional support, you know?”
She crossed her arms across her chest. Outside the car window, she spotted boarded windows, graffiti sprayed over old and abandoned apartment buildings. If Yasmin looked closer, she might even see sharp little eyes, hungry opportunists with quick hands and sharp knives. And she’d thought their old neighborhood was rough.
“Are you sure this is the right address?” she asked instead.
Larry didn’t need to act in front of her. She knew his moods. He could turn nasty and vindictive one moment and a pathetic and pleading mess the next.
“Yup, Anatoli gave clear instructions. You know what to say, right?”
“Let’s go over this again. We only have a fourth of what they’re asking. We’ll negotiate for more time. We’ll both find a way out of this mess.”
Yasmin thought saying those words repeatedly would give her strength, some reassurance, but she felt all hollowed out. Despair festered inside of her like a poison, working its way from her innards to the rest of her. Yasmin knew even if Anatoli and the damn crime boss he worked for gave them a chance, Larry wouldn’t do a thing.
Yasmin knew what would happen again. She’d still be the one working her fingers to the bone. Larry would promise to keep away from the gambling dens and casinos, for a few days anyway, before giving in. An endless cycle.
“We’re here.”
She jerked in her seat, staring at the empty parking lot of the strip club. The afternoon sun felt hot on her face. It would still be a few hours before the strippers and customers would arrive. For a second, her chest tightened, and it hurt to breathe. Yasmin grabbed the handle and got out on unsteady legs. Her entire life it felt like she’d been drowning, running a rat race with no finish line.