As soon as I’m out of the casino, I walk briskly down the street, looking over my shoulder to see if any of Kozlov’s men are behind me. To my relief, there’s nothing indicating I’m being followed.
I cut across 3rd Street and duck into a different casino, then take the stairs down to the bottom level and slip through the laundry room and out the employees entrance. I’ve had to do this enough times to know exactly how to come and go.
In the alley outside, I lean against a wall and attempt to light a cigarette. My hands are shaking and it takes three tries to get it going.
I take a deep drag, exhale and sigh as the tension leaves my body. I need weed, not tobacco, but I also need to keep my head clear. I’m a shit dad, I know it, but Selkie’s a shit daughter too. She’s too much like her mom.
Elle was a stunner when I married her. Still is. Back then, for about a year, she was this fun, easy to live with woman. Then Selkie came along and everything got harder. She stopped partying with me, became demanding. Needed more money for food and shit. Wanted me home more to help out.
I put up with her shit until Selkie was old enough for Elle to deal with on her own, then walked out. I didn’t have the money to support the two when I was living with them, I sure as hell didn’t have it after I left. Elle let it be I guess, because she wanted me out of her life more than she wanted to battle it out with me for child support.
I didn’t see Selkie much after that. Another thing Elle seemed to be content with. These days, Selkie and I see each other every year or so, but she’s never introduced me to Henri.
I don’t lose sleep over it. I know I’m not a role model because Selkie keeps telling me I’m not and I sure as hell don’t have the time and inclination to clean up my act at her say so.
I stomp out the cigarette and light another one. Feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to fix the mess I’m in. I didn’t realize Kozlov was so serious about repayment. He’s always given me extra time to settle the bill. And usually, I don’t need it. I’m a professional gambler who regularly hits it big. So what if I get into a little debt? I always find a way out.
I snort in disgust as I think of Selkie’s reaction. Self-righteous little bitch, judging me. Resenting me.
The problem is that I believe Kozlov when he says he’s gonna break Selkie’s bones. I’ve seen him in action. He’s a man of his word. I’m a shit father, but I’m not an asshole. She’s still my daughter.
I finish my second cigarette and kick off the wall. Then I make a phone call. Madison Renfrew picks up.
“Hi Renfrew,” I say cheerfully. “It’s Jonny Fry.”
“I know who it is,” Renfrew replies curtly. “What’d you want, Jonny?”
Sounds like I got him on a bad day. “I have a problem. Thought maybe you could help me solve it.”
He’s silent. “I got my own problems. Toper got picked up yesterday by some bounty-hunter prick and they won’t bail him until after the weekend.”
“Shit,” I say, pretending I care. “That’s fucked up.”
Renfrew’s young, mid-twenties, crazy, mean, and unpredictable, but he’s smart and wealthy. And he’s also the leader of the 311 Boys, a vicious gang whose members are white kids from suburbia.
I know doing business with him will probably end up with me being buried alive, but I’ve got no choice. I’ve burned most of my bridges in Reno and he’s one of my last resorts.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Got my shit lawyers on it, but they can’t make it work. Toper needs his fix and if he doesn’t get it, he’ll be scratching his skin off.”
A light bulb goes off. “Has he been transferred to prison or is he still in holding?”
“Holding.”
“Good. I’ll slip it in to him.”
“How you gonna do that?”
“I’m a grown-up. You get me a suit and tie, and the shit he needs, I’ll tell the cops I’m the new lawyer. Easy in, easy out.”
Renfrew thinks for a minute. “What’s in it for you?”
No sense bullshitting the kid, not entirely anyway. “I need 150 grand in the next hour or Kozlov’s gonna start breaking my daughter’s bones.”
“That’s fucked up,” Renfrew says like he hasn’t done worse shit.
“If it were me, it wouldn’t matter, but my daughter. I gotta do something.”
“So you slip Toper the candy, I give you 150. Doesn’t sound like much of deal for me.”
