I got a call from the boss. He’s demanding the money owed to him that’s out on the floor be brought to him.

That means it’s time to collect. Some of the dealers owe from the week. There’s an official rule in the employee handbook that says none of the employees of the casino are supposed to gamble in-house, but that doesn’t stop them from gambling off the books. My younger brother, Ace, is one of the best bookies on the strip. They call him Ace because he’s better than number one. He’s a fucking chameleon, too. He’s an account manager for one of the big insurance firms out here. While the desert sun is drying out your swimming pool, he’s performing the bullshit underwriting to determine what your house is worth. In case you were wondering, it isn’t worth shit, according to him.

I make my way to all of the tellers and dealers out on the floor and collect what’s due. Not only do these losers gamble at the house, they play with money that isn’t theirs. They don’t know to not shit where you eat.

While I make my rounds, I keep an eye on Cherry. Her number will be up, and I’m going to have to collect from her tomorrow morning.

But fuck, when I see her ass in those leather pants, I can’t help but think about what I’d do to her body. Her pussy was made for fucking, her lips made for taking my cock.

I can think of a perfect fucking way for her to make that money. But I shouldn't want it. I can't want it. She's too fucking perfect for me to sink my teeth into. She'll break.

But I couldn't let that prick have her, either.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. The boss wants his money.

He's a mercurial fuck.

The cash, Sean, he texts me. I'm sending some men to collect from you.

I gave the girl until tomorrow. She’s just a kid, I shoot back.

I think that should be enough to head him off, but it isn't.

No extensions and no excuses.

My heart lurches and I scan my immediate surroundings for her. The floor of this casino is one of the biggest on the strip, and I can't see her near any of the table games. I've let her out of my sight for a moment and I regret it.

My uncle is merciless and cold. She’s just a kid, but why should that matter? She’s young, but she owes. The fact that it’s her father’s debt matters not at all to my uncle.

My father didn’t want me joining the family business. He said it wasn’t the family he wanted to raise. He said it wasn’t what he wanted for his legacy.

But it was tempting. It called to the darkness inside me. My uncle’s sons have been like brothers to me, more than cousins. They said cousins are your first friends. For me, my cousins were my first introduction into this. As soon as I was old enough for my dick to get hard. As soon as I was old enough to get the taste for the adrenaline. The feeling of a gun in my hand and the steel against my skin.

My uncle counts his children and me as his flesh, no distinction between us. And I know he would think the same of Cherry and her father - if he gave one thought to either of them at all. For him, all they represent is an unpaid debt and a line on his balance sheet that needs to be leveled, evened out.

Cherry red. I see her bolt across the floor to one of the roulette tables. She’d be better off with blackjack. Over the course of enough time, the house wins, but over the short term you can make some cash fast with it if you know when to hit and when to stand.

You have to be principled for blackjack. That’s why I like it.

I track Cherry with my eyes and I feel myself pierce into her as she turns to meet my gaze. But she doesn’t stop. She pursues her goal. She keeps walking - fast - and makes her way to the roulette wheel.

Passing the floor fast, I feel the earth shake under my feet as I grind my way through the crowd, clapping a few drunk boys on the back as I weave through them. I push my body through the crowd roughly. I can barely feel any of them against me. She’s in my crosshairs.

This game has gone on long enough. The bass of the music from the nearby bar swells against my ears as I see her pull open her bag with her small, delicate hands. She props herself up with one elbow. She isn’t bruised or broken on the outside. She looks like perfection. A few men near her - maybe a son, his father and uncle - look at her and pass each other knowing glances.

Someone like that for you, son.

After the shit she tried to pull with Cullins moments ago, I’m surprised she isn’t standing next to them and trying to pick one of them up.

I walk over and come up behind her. I see her pure white neck and tendrils of her hair thrown up on the crown of her head. I should sink my fingers into the back of her neck and drag her off the floor and bring her somewhere...somewhere.

But where? My heart becomes frantic as I see her pull out a wad of cash and trade it in for chips. I observe her intently, my fucking heart threatening to crash out of my body. I wrap my arms across my chest and feel the blood rush through my head, in my ears.

I feel my cock stir as she leans over the table playfully at the three men, the generations of assholes looking at her.

They don’t know her. They don’t know shit about her.

But she’s doing what she needs to.

She makes me harder as I drag my eyes down her back, down the little dip when where her waist nips in. She’s wearing a fucking corset and black leather pants. They look like they’ve been painted onto her ass.

She turns her head and sees me behind her, and I swear a see a perverse little smirk spread out from the corner of her lip. And then her eyes shift and she looks beyond me and behind me and I feel my heart lurch into my throat.

She bends over and grabs her chips, shoving them into her bag, and I turn around slowly. I see my two cousins come out of employee lounges on either side of the opposite end of the casino. They don’t see me. They can’t. All they see is Cherry.

Her eyes flash to me. It’s time for the men to collect.

No extensions and no excuses.

Her eyes lock with mine as she steps backwards against the roulette table. The wheel above her clicks fast, slowing down with each passing second.

She’s helpless, but she isn’t hopeless.

I cross the room and split the distance between us, and sweep her up into my arms.

She trembles against my body. Her hands fly up to my chest and her fingers sink in. I don’t know if she’s pushing me away or begging me to get closer. My cock stirs in my pants and starts pressing up against her, and I shift away quickly. The wheel above us ticks and slows down and I feel my goon cousins behind us.

“Please,” she says. Her eyes are clear and bright, and in that split-second in time, everything freezes and she doesn’t look scared. She’s pleading with me, but she doesn’t look scared. She doesn’t know what she’s asking for when she says please.

More time? That’s not happening. She can ask sweet and nice but my uncle won’t allow it.

“Cherry.” The word slips out of my mouth and she wraps her arms around my torso, pressing herself to me. I put my hand instinctively on the back of her neck and she closes her eyes, her lips parting gracefully as I put my mouth on her.

She opens up for me as I sweep my tongue against hers. The foreign territory somehow feels familiar. Her breasts press against me and her fingers dig into my back as she pulls me closer to her. The hot air around us feels electric.

There’s nothing I can do but feel her. The world is blotted out for just a moment, and all I can feel is her and the air slipping around us.

My heart brightens, and then sinks as I pull away from her.

“Please,” she whispers, her head resting against my chest.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, Cherry. Just trust me.”

I take her by the hand and cross the floor of the casino. I take her into the dim steakhouse and past tables of middle-aged couples ordering chocolate lava cakes, back through the kitchen where the clanging of metal rings in my ears. We bust through the door to a hallway in the back where there are rows of lockers for employees to put their regular clothes they change out of. A few women are changing out of their jeans and t-shirts and into their skimpy cocktail waitress costumes.

My feet keep hitting the ground hard, and I don’t let up. Cherry’s right next to me, and she struggles to keep up, but I have her. I look back and see her bright, clear eyes shift up to me. Her brows knit above her eyes and her perfect mouth opens, panting and heart racing. I turn to keep leading her, my hand still at her elbow as we slip past the cocktail waitresses and strippers and putting on their push-up bras and high heels.

We get to the narrow, dark hallway leading outside and I shoulder it open. It deposits us in a dark employee parking lot behind the casino.

She wrestles from my grip and her steps falter. Her eyes grow wide as she takes three wobbly steps backwards until her back hits the wall.

The air is heavy and tense around us. She looks like she’s about to give up as she bends forward and puts her hands on her knees. The outline of her shape tempts me toward her, but I swallow hard and push my feelings down.

“Please,” she says. Her voice is a mere whisper as it uncurls into the night air. Shrieks and hollers of fun and joy come from the strip, and we can hear it and see it from where we’re standing. I walk toward her and put my hands down cautiously on her shoulders.

“Cherry, what are you asking for? You keep saying please, but I don’t know what you want.”

A feeling shreds through me as she looks up. It’s strong and it’s a desire, but for what I’m not sure.

I know my cock is getting hard again, but it’s not lust. I know my heart is beating fast, but that’s because I had to drag this poor fucking girl away from my piece of shit cousins.

I’m a piece of shit too, but that’s not what I’m feeling right now. It’s something else. It’s inside my head as the blood whooshes inside my ears.

“What are you going to do to me?” she whimpers, her eyes cast down.

“Nothing. I’m not going to do anything.” He eyes flash up to mine, her eyebrows raised, her lips spread open for me. All for me. I drag my hands down her shoulders to her arms and a wave of goosebumps plumps up under my fingers. My cock becomes full and stiff in response. “Not unless you beg me.”