Page 13 of A Deceitful Pact

“Ummm. Not getting on the private jet would have been a start,” I answer her firmly.

“Come on, Riley, you know I’ve never been very good at saying no to a good time.”

I shake my head at her attempt at an excuse.

“So how the hell do you end up owing someone 20k from going to a party?” I question her.

“Because that party started a month ago and it hasn’t really stopped. You don’t understand what it’s like out here. Everyone’s doing it, they were giving lines out like candy.” She bursts into tears.

“Lines….Lines?” I bury my face into my hands because I was sure she’d moved on from all that shit.

“I thought it was free; you see it on TV, how these rich guys like to be all flashy and show off to women. I thought that was what this was.”

“Sasha, listen to me. I don’t have that kind of money.” I don’t like lying to my sister, but all the money I have in my savings is for my fertility treatment. I took a huge pay cut when I took the job here. There's no way I could save that money again on the salary I earn now.

“Riley, I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t life or death… I fucked up. These men aren’t celebrities, they’re fucking mobsters. And if I don’t give them what they say I owe them, they’re either going to kill me or make me work it off.”

“Sasha, you racked up a 20k debt on drugs,” I remind her of how stupid she’s been.

“Yes, unknowingly. RiRi, please, you have to help me. I’ll pay you back, every cent, I swear.” I’m mad as hell, but I hate hearing her sound so scared. Sasha is the only person I have left in the world.

“Are you with them right now?” I ask, wondering who the hell these people are.

“Yes. Giovanni is here andhe’s got a gun,” she whispers.

“Put Giovanni on the phone.” I feel my heart beating in my chest when I realize how serious all this is.

“Miss Hale.” He takes over from Sasha, and his strong Italian accent makes me even more on edge.

“I’m sorry, my sister didn’t give me your full name.” I try to sound calm and collected. I’ve taken many phone calls like this before when I worked for the FBI, but this is different; my sister is at risk.

“You don’t need my full name, Giovanni is fine,” he assures me. “I’m told you are going to get me what I’m owed.” The threat in his tone makes my hands start to shake.

“Were you also told that I work in law enforcement?” I ask him, at least trying to sound confident.

“Your sister mentioned something, in between her tears. I’m not concerned about how you make your living, Miss Hale. I just want my money.” I can hear my sister crying in the background, so I take a long, deep breath and accept that everything I’ve dreamed of is going to have to slip through my fingers.

“Fine, I’ll transfer you the money.” I close my eyes as tears fall over my cheeks.

“Good choice, I’m sure your sister will be very relieved. I’ll have my details sent to you.” He must pass the phone back to Sasha because her sobbing gets louder.

“Sasha, can you hear me?”

“Yes. I hear you. Thank you, Riley. I’m sorry. I…”

“You are checking into a rehab center the second you leave wherever they are holding you. Do you understand?” I scold her.

“I understand, and I know Mom and Dad would be?—”

“Don’t!” I warn. The last thing I want to do right now is think about them and how I’ve let them down. “Just hold tight till I can get home and transfer that money.” I hang up the phone and slam my palm into my steering wheel in frustration.

How could Sasha be so stupid? We were both raised the same way, by the same parents, and I’ve tried to be responsible for her ever since they died.

I start my engine and drive home, wondering if I can track this Giovanni guy from the details he gives me. I’m assuming that he’s taken precautions to ensure they don’t lead to anything, but I still have some friends at the FBI who could look into it for me.

A text comes through with the bank account details, and once I’m home, I lift the hamper from the backseat and rush inside.

I open the door to the same silence and emptiness that I left. I’ve tried making this place a home over the past few months. I even bought some of the cute little trinkets that were being sold at the town’s craft fair and dotted them around the place, but it still doesn’t feel like a home. I have no memories here; this house feels like a stranger, just like all the people in town do.

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