Bound to the devil's heart

"When you needed this money you were the best version of yourself but right now we are blowing up your phones with calls yet you won't comply. Dean already sent us to tell you that if you can't pay within the seventy-two hours then your daughter has to pay."

I was at the door about to go in when I heard that.

My key was already in my hand. I had come straight from work, still in the same blazer I had been wearing since seven that morning, tired in that specific way that comes from spending six hours trying to make teenagers care about something they have already decided not to care about. I was thinking about food. I was wondering if my dad had cooked. I wasn't thinking about anything that actually mattered because I didn't know yet that anything mattered at all.

And then those words hit me through the door and I stopped breathing for a second.

I stood there in the corridor with my key in my hand and my heart doing something I could not name and I genuinely did not know what to do. Go in. Don't go in. My feet would not move in either direction. My brain got stuck on one thing and wouldn't move past it.

Your daughter has to pay.

"She has nothing to do with this." That was my dad. I could hear in his voice that he was scared even though he was trying not to be. "Whatever is between Mr. Holt and me is between us. My daughter stays out of this."

"She entered into it the moment you stopped picking up the phone." The other voice was not raised. That was the thing that made it worse. Completely level. Like this was a normal conversation. Like what he was saying was just information being passed along, nothing personal, nothing emotional, just facts. "Mr. Holt gave you two extensions, Mr. Calloway. Two. Most people don't get one. You were treated well because you came recommended and that recommendation meant something. But forty-six thousand dollars is forty-six thousand dollars and goodwill does not cancel debt."

"I know that. I know. Just tell him two more weeks. I have something coming through, a contract, the money will be there"

"Dean's message was very clear. Seventy-two hours. Whatever form that payment takes is up to you to arrange. But it will be paid one way or another."

I heard my dad make a sound then. I don't have a word for it. Then the footsteps started coming toward the door. I just remained at a corner where nobody will see me so I'll be able to understand what's really happening.

I moved back fast and pressed myself against the corridor wall, I lay with my back flat and I seized my breath. The door opened and two men came out. They walked past me without even looking my way and turned toward the stairwell. I waited until I couldn't