Twisted Loyalties (The Camorra Chronicles 1) - Page 32

I knew how it was going to be. Mom was the same way with her addiction. She stole every penny she found in my room, until I had no choice but to carry it on my body at all times. Not that that ever fended her off on her more desperate days.

“I need to put money back for college and we need food.” I didn’t hold much hope that he’d use much of his own money for grocery shopping. The donuts had been a one time exemption.

“Stop thinking about college. Girls like you don’t go to college.”

I finally managed to free myself of his crushing grip. Rubbing my wrist, I took a step back from him.

“Leona, this is serious. I need money,” he said.

The despair on his face made me reach into my backpack. I took the fifty-dollar note and handed it to him. That left me with a little over one hundred dollars after Roger had paid me today. Tips were decent in the arena.

“That’s all?”

I didn’t get the chance to reply. He staggered forward, catching me by surprise. He ripped my backpack out of my hand, shoved his arm inside and began rummaging. I tried to get it back but he pushed me away. I collided with the wall. When he found the rest of the money, he dropped the backpack and pushed the notes into his jeans pocket.

“A good daughter wouldn’t lie to her father,” he said angrily.

And a good father wouldn’t steel from his daughter. I picked my backpack off the ground. One of the straps now had a rip in it. Fighting tears, I rushed into the bedroom and closed the door.

Tired and shaken, I sank down on the mattress. Of course, nothing had changed. I’d lost count of the times my mother had promised me she’d start anew. The drugs had been stronger than her willpower and her love for me. And here I was with my father who battled his own addiction, and I was stuck with him. Why did people in my life always break their promises?

I had no money to leave Las Vegas and even if I did, where would I go? I couldn’t afford an apartment anywhere, and I had no friends or family I could turn to.

I undressed, putting the dress carefully on the ground. Without money, I wouldn’t be able to buy new clothes, but there was no way I could wear my dress again. It smelled of sweat and had a ketchup stain on the skirt. I took jeans shorts and a plain white shirt out of my backpack. They were crumpled from Dad’s rummaging but they’d have to do.

Tired, I lied back.

College isn’t for girls like you.

Perhaps I was silly for dreaming about it, but my dreams were the only thing keeping me going. I wanted to get a law degree. Help people who couldn’t afford a good lawyer. I closed my eyes. An image of Fabiano popped into my head. Nobody would ever take money from him. He was strong. He knew how to get what he wanted. I wished I were like that. Strong. Respected.

Early the next morning, I washed my summer dress, then hung it over the shower stall to dry. Even though I still had a few hours until work, I left the apartment. I didn’t feel comfortable there after the incident with Dad yesterday. He hadn’t scared me. Too often had I been confronted with the same blatant despair from my mother.

Luckily, I’d found a few dollars in coins that I’d gotten as tips yesterday at the bottom of the backpack and wanted to grab breakfast for myself.

With my coffee-to-go and a Danish, I strode through the streets without a real purpose. When I noticed the bus, which was heading toward the Strip, I used my last money to buy a ticket. I wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t as if I could ask for a job anywhere there. They would laugh in my face.

I got off near the Venetian, and just kept walking, marveling at the splendor of the hotels, at the lightheartedness of the tourists. This was a different Las Vegas than the one I’d experienced so far. I stopped eventually in front of the fountains of the Bellagio. I closed my eyes. How was I ever going to get a good job around here when I couldn’t even buy myself a decent dress?

I had seen the security guards keep an eye on me when I’d wandered through the hotels. They had pegged me a thief from one look at me.

I knew Dad would keep taking my money unless he suddenly stopped losing his bets, which was highly unlikely. The bank always won.

I asked a passerby for the time since I had no watch or mobile. I had only thirty minutes until I had to be at work. There was no way I was going to be on time, considering that I’d given my last money for the bus ticket to the Strip and would have to walk back. That would take at least one hour, probably longer. With my luck, it would even start raining again.

Tags: Cora Reilly The Camorra Chronicles Romance
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