A Thief for the CEO

Riley's POV It is as soon as I enter the house that I see them, the three men sitting at the table next to my father. They look at me but ignore me, as if I were just another piece of furniture; but my father looks up as soon as I enter the room and smiles. “Riley! I'm glad you're home early. Can I have another beer?" I slowly walk towards him. I drop my purse on the floor as I take the steps. I stop by the table and one by one, the men look up to me, but still ignore me. I pick up the can of beer my father was drinking. There are others scattered on the brown, stained carpet. The atmosphere reeks of tobacco and liquor. “You said you'd never drink again." My words are just a whisper. My father looks up, and I see my reflection in his foul, alcohol-reddened eyes. I hate to admit it, but I look a lot more like him than my mother. We have the same hair, straight, thick and dark, the same gray eyes, the same thick eyebrows. On the other hand, my younger sister, Hannah, is the exact reflection of my mother. Blonde hair, noble and sweet face and green eyes. Sometimes I fear that the resemblance to my father is only more than mere appearance. That my soul is as rotten as his. One of the men laughs, immediately catching my attention. I recognize him without needing to look too closely. They call him "Jinx". To say he is cursed and damages everything he touches is not an understatement. Jinx is the leader of the most dangerous gang on this side of town, and if he's not behind bars it's only because corrupt cops, like my father, protect him from being jailed. But I'm not afraid of him, or at least I know I don't have to show fear. He's like a rabid dog baring his teeth. If you show him you're afraid of him, you're lost. “Your daddy is a big boy. He can have as many beers as he wants, honey," says the mobster. Jinx winks at me and throws his cards on the table. I try to ignore him. Not to let his attitude intimidate me. “You said you weren't going to drink again," I remind dad. “You promised." He looks down. He's embarrassed, I know. After our last incident we made a deal. If I bailed him out and paid his debt to Jinx's gang, he would join AA and give up his two deadly vices, gambling and liquor. He obviously hasn't kept any part of deal. The men around us laugh at my words. Dad raises his face and laughs nervously as well. He looks at me, emboldened by the characters around him. “A few beers with friends doesn't hurt anyone," he comments in a voice that pretends to be confident. “Be a good girl and bring another round for everyone," asks Jinx and raises his hand, holding out his empty can. I snatch it from his hands, annoyed and head behind the kitchen counter, on my way to the fridge. I try to breathe, to calm down, but I can't. I know that fighting with Dad is impossible in these cases. He won't listen to anything I say. The best I can do is give him exactly what he's asking for and then get Hannah out of here. Maybe take her to the twenty-four hour cafeteria where I work the night shifts. I could feed her dinner and let her sleep in the manager's office. I know how to break in, and Hannah won't touch anything. Right now, all I can think about is finishing raising the money to get her out of here. Since our mother died four years ago, my father has gone from bad to worse. For us, things have only gotten worse. Dad always had vices, but he controlled them for Mom. After her death his self-control went down the drain. He started hanging out with guys like Jinx and getting into heavier and heavier gambling debts. I had to get him out of a lot of trouble, and he would always tearfully promise me that he was going to change, but tonight is just one example of his word being worth as much as the wallpaper peeling off the walls. “Thank you, beautiful." Jinx winks at me as soon as I approach the table with his beers. I sneer at him and pull away before he can get his hands on me, because I know what I'm going to do if he makes a move on me. As I said, my father is a cop. He's the chief of police, in fact, and he always taught me how to defend myself. He taught me other things too, dirty tricks that no girl should know and that he said would "get me out of tough situations in life". Now I understand that all he was doing was forging himself a lifeline to get him out of trouble in situations like this. Crossing my arms, I look at them, wondering where Dad got enough money to ask Jinx to come and play cards with him. That's when I notice it. The yellow envelope on the table. The envelope with red letters. My handwriting... My heart rises in my throat and I feel the cold sweat sliding down my forehead. No. It can't be... “Dad," I start to say in a hoarse voice. “Where did you get that envelope?" He looks at the table ashamed. “I found it while I was cleaning your room," he explains. Bullsh*t. I've been collecting that money for almost a year to get Hannah and me out of this snake pit. The money inside is the entire savings I have from my two jobs. I had it hidden behind a hole in the wall where he wasn't supposed to find it. But obviously, I was wrong. “Dad, don't..." I start to say, but he cuts me off immediately. “It's just a loan, daughter. I have a good feeling. You'll see. I'll win the next hand and then the three of us can go out for steak dinner, just like we used to." We haven't had steak dinner for years. Even when Mom was alive, we didn't. “I'll pay you back right away," Dad promises in a nervous voice. I want to fight, I want to kick the table and scream, but I restrain myself. My hands clench into fists as Dad throws his cards on the table. He has a full house. He smiles victoriously. He's sweating like a pig on Christmas night, but he thinks he's won. For a moment I feel myself breathe again. And then Jinx smiles. A small gesture in which only one corner of his lips turns up. He drops his cards on the table and the two men accompanying him clap and joke. Royal Flush. My heart falls to the floor. Goodbye to my savings. “No..." I hear my father's faint whimper. He puts his hands to his head and drops his face to the table. Jinx folds his arms, victorious. I slowly inhale, clench my fists and walk towards him. “Good. You win. Now take your money and get out of my house," I tell him, standing in front of him and glaring at him with hatred. “You have quite a little shrew for a daughter, don't you?" says Jinx to my father, who has started to cry. “But things don't work that way." Jinx stands up. The two men at his sides change position. I know perfectly well what they do. They have weapons hidden under their clothes and they are ready to use them in case I get violent. Because of course, they know I can get violent at any moment. “Your father has done more than just gamble money," says Jinx, grinning like a wolf. “Then take whatever it is you've won from him and get out of here," I order. Jinx's eyes narrow in amusement. They gleam malevolently. “If that's what you want," he shrugs. Jinx looks around. I follow his gaze and notice he stops in the hallway leading to the rooms. “What did you say your sister's name was?" Next to me, the whisper of my father's crying gets louder. “Ah, yes." Jinx smiles. “Hannah," he calls her. “Hannah, could you come here, please?" The door to the room I share with my sister opens, and Hannah comes out. Her hair is in a braid, and she's wearing an old sweatshirt from mom. Jinx looks at her greedily. My mouth suddenly goes dry. The mobster looks at me, raising an eyebrow. I understand everything at once. For me, the world stops turning at this moment. “You see," Jinx begins to explain. “Your father bet your money, and he lost. He asked me for a second round. He said he'd give me ten times the value of the money if I agreed to play with him." “Riley, what's going on?" Hannah looks at me. Her lips are pale. My sister is twelve years old, but I know exactly what happened. In exchange for a second bet, my father sold her out. My younger sister, so that these gangsters can do whatever they want with her. Under no circumstances will I allow it. “So," Jinx crosses his arms and looks at me with interest. “Do you still want me to leave the house with my loot, or do you prefer that we stay and talk with you for a while longer?" he proposes with an insinuating gesture. I don't give a sh*t. I'm not interested in talking right now. If he lays a finger on Hannah, blood will run in this room. And it won't be mine. It's going to be his.