She looks just like she did in the pictures. I can pick her out in the crowd like I know her. As though I’m not searching a sea of faces for someone I don’t know. I do know her.

Cherry. That’s what her dad called her. I close my eyes and can almost feel her skin. Ripe and pure. Almost translucent. I can see the blood pump through her veins just below the surface.

And her lips. Her cherry-red lips drawn up into a little heart, like they were just made to open up for my cock.

She walks toward me and she doesn’t look frightened. Her father told me she walks like that. He was obsessed with his little girl.

I feel my heart thrum inside my fucking chest, the ugly organ beating like a drum against my ribs. Slamming inside me.

Her wavy red hair is twisted up into a loose knot on top of her head and her dark eyebrows frame light blue eyes the color of the sky on a cold, cloudless winter day. The kind we don’t have here in the desert. This blue was plucked from a sky above the mountains, where there’s nothing blotting out the pristine view straight up to heaven.

There’s nothing like that here, though. There’s no heaven in this town.

She’s uncomfortable in her clothing. Fuck, for however uncomfortable she is in her clothes, I’m more uncomfortable with her having them on. Under other circumstances, maybe I could have had her sweet cherry red lips wrapped around my cock, her pussy holding me tight all fucking night long.

She weaves through a crowd of people. A drunk bachelorette party replete with sashes and crowns and boozy drinks in plastic cups. A few teenagers with blue and green hair here for the roller coasters.

Cherry comes up to me where I’m waiting under the marquis.

“That’s what my father owes you.” She shoves the bag into my chest. I won’t let her off easy. It’s the big boss’ policy to never accept the first offering. We make them come back with something better. These people who borrow are in too deep to agree to the terms of their agreement. They have no choice in the matter. It’s sink or swim for them, and a loan from us is sometimes the only thing that will keep them afloat.

It’s time to get out of this game, I keep telling him. The big boss should stick to dealing with scum like our own. Not innocent men who get in over their heads like Cherry’s old man.

I tell her the money isn’t all there. I don’t count it; I don’t have to. Whatever’s in the bag is short by a couple grand just by virtue of the fact that there aren’t a couple more grand in the bag.

I tell her she has until tomorrow morning to come up with the rest of the money. I have no fucking clue how she’ll be able to pull this shit off, but it doesn’t matter. The big boss will do whatever the fuck he wants, and no one wants to stop him. No one’s going to risk their neck for this girl. Or for any girl.

It just doesn’t happen that way. The debt needs to be paid, the books need to be balanced, and the boss needs another few grand. He’ll hide it under the floorboards at his house or under his back porch in a fireproof safe. He always needs more. He’s never satisfied. He’ll never be satisfied. That’s his flaw, and the flaw that he shares with people like himself.

Balance. I scoff at the word. It’s funny in a twisted way. The boss thinks taking this poor girl’s money will tip the scales and everything will be right. The debt needs to be paid one way or another. It’s the right thing. It’s what needs to happen.

But I can’t think of a more unfair thing in the world right now.

Her picture was given to me by the boss himself. He said this was one he wanted to make an example of. In his fucked up mind, maybe the people who populate this world know who she is and give two shits about what happens to her. I doubt that very much. No one knows who she is, because she isn’t involved. She’s an innocent.

Making an example of someone works better when the results can be seen. If he gets what he wants and everything goes off without a hitch, she’ll disappear, go back to wherever she came from, and if there’s any mercy in the world, I’ll never see her again.

The boss doesn’t know that I’ve already seen her picture, though. I’ve already seen her skin and her hair and her body, and I’ve dreamed about it, about her.

“You have until tomorrow morning to come up with the rest of the money. The interest is twenty percent on top of what your old man owes.” Her gaze shifts between from one of my eyes to the other.

The old man never even had a chance to repay. He’s hooked up to a bunch of machines in a hospital out in the suburbs somewhere.

But he lives on. I can see him in his daughter’s eyes. It’s the unmistakable blue in her eyes, the pure and clear color like a sheet of glass over the ocean.

“Listen. If you have something else of value you can use it in place of the interest.” I take her by the elbow and get close to her. I haven’t been this close to a woman like her in a long fucking time. Someone with a healthy body and a mind that’s sharp, not corrupted by avarice. Someone with the scent of fresh air, untouched and unmarred.

She can use that body to her advantage.

Her teeth come down onto her bottom lip and for a moment she considers what I’m saying. It might not fully click into place, but she has an idea of what I’m suggesting. Before she can give her answer, I already feel sick for having said it. A wave of guilt rises inside my belly. I tear my eyes away from her. She can’t see that I’m ashamed, or maybe she’s better at reading people than I am.

“I’ll figure out a way,” she says coolly.

Her words are so calm, measured. I know she’ll figure this out. And if she were playing by a set of rules, she would be able to master the game and win. But my boss is unpredictable.

It’s a fucking shame she had to be brought into this against her will.

Without saying a word, my brain curses her old man for inviting chaos into his home.

There was a time before I knew he had a daughter. We never shared those intimate details. He knew nothing about me, except that I was a blackjack dealer on the floor of the casino. We also shared a boss in a way. My uncle runs the casino, and her old man was addicted to the rush. You could even say he was it’s slave. And since Uncle owns the casino, and the casino owns the old man, Uncle owns the old man, and now his daughter too.

It was better when we just shot the shit and left our personal lives out of it.

“You’re a smart girl. I know you’ll figure it out.”

Her eyes shift past me, at the throngs of people milling back and forth, in and out of the casino where I deal. All of the bouncers know me, and they aren’t saying shit.

They know not to.

“Give me the bag back.” She doesn’t reach out for the bag of money. Instead, she demands it.

“You have one day.”