Time to Pay
The morning light trickled through the broken slats of the boarded-up windows, casting fractured patterns on the dusty floor. Jahnny woke to the sound of heavy footsteps, still groggy from the restless night on the cold, hard ground. His father’s arm had been draped over him, heavy and protective, but now that weight was ripped away in an instant.
The commotion was startling. Jahnny scrambled upright, blinking in confusion. His father, Garth, was yanked to his feet by two massive men. They were built like walls, their faces hard and devoid of mercy. One had a scar slashing down his cheek, the other wore a gold chain so thick it seemed like armor.
“Wha—what the hell?” Garth spluttered, struggling against their iron grip. “Get your hands off me!”
But his protests were ignored. Jahnny’s heart pounded in his chest as he shrank back against the wall, his small frame trembling. Then, a voice cut through the tension, calm but cold enough to chill the room.
“Well, well, look who we have here,” the man drawled.
Big Ray stepped into the dim light, his hulking figure commanding attention. He was older, with gray creeping into his neatly trimmed beard, but there was nothing soft about him. His eyes gleamed with cruelty, and his tailored coat hung off his broad shoulders like a king’s robe. Ray’s presence swallowed the room whole.
“Ray,” Garth stammered, his bravado crumbling. “Listen, man, I was gonna—”
“You were gonna what, Garth?” Ray interrupted, his voice smooth as silk. He stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking against the concrete floor. “Gonna finally pay me what you owe? Because that’d be a first.”
“I just need more time,” Garth pleaded, his voice cracking. “I’ve got a plan—”
Before he could finish, the scar-faced man landed a punch to Garth’s stomach, doubling him over. Jahnny cried out, instinctively lurching forward, but froze when Ray turned his gaze on him.
“Stay put, kid,” Ray said, his tone a warning and a promise. Jahnny sank back to the ground, his small hands gripping the edges of his tattered coat.
“You’ve been owing me for months, Garth,” Ray continued, pacing slowly. “Months of excuses, months of bullshit. I’ve been patient, haven’t I?”
“Y-yeah,” Garth wheezed, clutching his stomach.
“But patience doesn’t pay my bills, and it sure as hell doesn’t keep my boys fed.” Ray gestured to the two men flanking him, and they cracked their knuckles in unison. “So, now I’m done waiting.”
“No, no, no, please!” Garth begged as the beating began. The punches came heavy and relentless, each one echoing through the empty building. Jahnny could only watch, his eyes wide with terror, as his father was reduced to a whimpering heap on the floor.
“Stop!” Jahnny’s voice cracked as he finally found the courage to speak. “Please, stop! You’re hurting him!”
Ray turned to look at Jahnny, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. “Hurting him, huh? Kid, your old man’s been hurting himself for years. This is just catching up to him.”
“Don’t,” Garth croaked, spitting blood onto the floor. “Don’t touch the boy.”
Ray crouched down to Jahnny’s level, his large frame towering even as he lowered himself. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, kid,” he said, his voice almost gentle. “You’re worth too much to me for that.”
Jahnny recoiled, pressing himself tighter against the wall. “What do you mean?”
Ray leaned closer, his breath warm and sour, his breath a mix of mint and whiskey. “A kid like you? Small, scrappy, kinda cute when you’re not cryin’? You’re a goldmine. People’ll pay a lot for a kid like you to run errands, do odd jobs… whatever they need.”
“No,” Jahnny whispered, shaking his head. “No, I’m not gonna—”
“You don’t get a choice, boy,” Ray said, his voice hardening. “Your daddy here owes me, and you’re how I’m gonna collect.”
“Leave him alone,” Garth rasped from the floor, struggling to sit up. “I’ll get you the money, Ray. I swear.”
“You’ve been swearing that for months,” Ray shot back, standing to his full height. “And I’m done believing you.”
With a sharp nod, he signaled his men to grab Jahnny. The boy kicked and squirmed as their rough hands dragged him to his feet, but it was like fighting a brick wall. Tears streamed down his face as he was forced toward the door.
“Let him go!” Garth shouted, his voice desperate. He clawed at the floor, trying to pull himself up, but another kick to his ribs sent him sprawling.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” Ray warned. “You’ve got forty-eight hours to pay up. After that, the boy starts earning your keep.”
Jahnny’s chest heaved as he was shoved outside, the cold bite of the morning burned the tear streaks that continued to run. He twisted in their grip, his wide eyes locking onto his father’s battered form through the broken doorway. “Dad! Don’t let them take me! Dad!”
But Garth didn’t respond. He lay there, beaten and broken, as Ray and his men hauled Jahnny down the street.
In that moment, the illusion shattered. The protective, larger-than-life figure Jahnny had always seen in his father crumbled to nothing. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the scrape of his shoes against the pavement, and Ray’s chilling laughter echoing in his ears.
“Stop squirming, kid,” Scar-Face growled, his voice low and menacing. “You’re only making it worse for yourself.”
Jahnny’s lip quivered, but he refused to cry out again. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. His eyes darted around the deserted street, searching for anyone who might help, but the early morning kept most people inside. The few that were out—a woman hurrying to her car, an old man sweeping his stoop—turned their gazes away. Nobody wanted to get involved.
Ray followed behind them, his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. He strolled as if they were taking a morning walk, his polished shoes tapping against the pavement. “You’re a lucky kid,” he said, his voice carrying over the sound of Jahnny’s shuffling feet. “Most folks your age don’t get to learn how the world really works until they’re much older.”
Jahnny turned his head, glaring at Ray through tear-filled eyes. “You’re a bad man.”
Ray laughed, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down Jahnny’s spine. “Bad? Maybe. But your old man? He’s the one who brought you into this mess. Don’t blame me for cleaning it up.”
Jahnny’s fists clenched at his sides. His father’s bloodied face flashed in his mind, but so did the anger in his mother’s voice last night. He wasn’t sure who to be mad at anymore. It all felt like a terrible dream he couldn’t wake up from.
They turned a corner into a narrow alley, the dim light barely reaching the cracked walls and overflowing dumpsters. Scar-Face shoved Jahnny forward, forcing him to stumble to his knees.
“Here’s fine,” Ray said, stepping forward. He crouched down in front of Jahnny, his sharp eyes boring into the boy’s. “Listen up, kid. I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re valuable to me alive and kickin’. But I need to make sure you understand something.”
Jahnny glared up at him, his chest heaving. “I hate you.”
Ray chuckled again, shaking his head. “That’s fine. You’ll get over it. What you need to know is this: your old man’s a loser. Always has been, always will be. He’s got nothing left to give me but you.”
“You’re lying,” Jahnny spat, the fire in his voice surprising even himself.
Ray smirked. “Am I? You think he’s gonna come up with my money in the next two days? He can’t even keep the lights on in that dump you call home. If he cared about you, he wouldn’t have put you in this position.”
Jahnny didn’t answer. He stared at the ground, his small hands clutching the fabric of his pants. Deep down, he knew Ray wasn’t lying. But he didn’t want to believe it.
“Here’s how this is gonna work,” Ray continued, straightening up. “You’re gonna stay with me for a while. Do some odd jobs, run some errands. Nothing too hard for a smart kid like you. And if your dad pays up? You go home. If not…” He trailed off, the unspoken threat lingering in the air like smoke.
“You can’t do this,” Jahnny said, his voice trembling. “It’s not fair.”
“Fair?” Ray repeated, his smile fading. “Kid, fair doesn’t exist in Blenc. The sooner you learn that, the better.”
He gestured to the men. “Put him in the van.”
Jahnny’s heart sank as Scar-Face and Gold-Chain grabbed him again, lifting him off the ground. He thrashed and kicked, his cries echoing off the walls of the alley, but their strength was unyielding.
The van was parked just around the corner, its dark paint blending into the shadows. The back doors swung open, revealing a dingy interior littered with empty bottles and fast-food wrappers. Jahnny was thrown inside like a sack of potatoes, his body hitting the cold metal floor with a thud.
The doors slammed shut behind him, plunging him into darkness. He scrambled to sit up, his small hands feeling for an escape, but the sound of the locks clicking into place dashed his hopes.
As the engine roared to life, Jahnny hugged his knees to his chest, his breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. His mind raced with thoughts of his family, of his home, of the little bottle of pills still tucked in his pocket. His whole world had been turned upside down in a matter of hours, and he had no idea how to fix it.
In the front seat, Ray lit a cigar, the glow of the embers briefly illuminating his face. “Don’t worry, kid,” he called back, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “You’ll get used to it.”
But Jahnny didn’t believe him. As the van rumbled down the broken streets of Blenc, he could only stare at the small square of light coming through the rear window, wondering if he’d ever see his family again.