Breeding My Daughter to Cover Her Debt
Breeding My Daughter to Cover Her Debt
Rayne Vice
Rae came into the double-wide trailer after dark with two beat to hell duffels dragging at her hands and her phone buzzing so often in her pocket it might as well have been a sex toy. Every alert had the same hungry pulse behind it. Late notice, collection attempt, final warning, balance transferred, payment demanded. The screen had become a leash reminded her she was financially fucked. She’d ignored it all the way up the gravel driveway, shoulders tight, boots crunching through dust and weeds, jaw clenched around the last of her pride.
Her father, Wade, sat in the recliner with one boot hooked over the other, beer sweating on the side table, the television glowing blue across his face with the volume turned low. He looked older in the lamp’s flat yellow light, broader somehow, heavier through the arms and chest, his expression worn into that mean calm that had always made arguments feel over before they started.
Rae dumped both bags just inside the door.
“Don’t start,” she said before he could speak.
Wade took his time looking her over. “That’s how you say hello now?”
“That’s how I say I need a place to sleep and I’m already sick of hearing whatever smartass thing you’ve been saving, Dad.”
His mouth moved like he almost smiled. “Still got plenty of mouth on you.”
“Yeah, and it’s not available for commentary.” Her phone buzzed again. She yanked it out, glanced at the screen, and shoved it back into her pocket with a shaky breath. “I need help for a couple weeks. Maybe a month. I’ll be gone as soon as I can.”
“Collectors?”
“Don’t make it sound like you care.”
“I asked what it was.”
“It’s money. It’s always money.” Rae rubbed at her forehead, smearing a little mascara near one eye. “Loans, interest, bullshit fees stacked on bullshit fees. I got behind, then behind turned into buried. I just need somewhere they can’t squeeze me for rent while I catch up.”
Wade leaned forward and set the beer down. “Free roof ain’t free, even if you’ my daughter. You left. Wanted to ‘make it big,’ if I recall. Make a big fuckin’ stink about it too.”
Rae stared at him. Her mouth went thin. “There it is.”
“You came here because you ran out of doors. What, couldn’t fuck your way into an ex boyfriend’s couch?”
“I came here because I thought even you could manage a couch without turning it into a trap.”
“I can do better than a couch.” His voice stayed low, flat, and filthy with certainty. “You stay here. I cover enough to shut some of them up. You stop pretending you’ve got choices. In return, you pay me in the one thing you’ve still got that’s worth collecting.”
Her eyes hardened. “Say it.”
Wade’s gaze dropped down her body, slow enough to be insulting. “Bare. No pills, no rubbers, no running. You take every load, every time. If it catches, it catches. If it doesn’t, I keep putting more in you until it does.”
For a moment, the trailer went almost silent except for the refrigerator knocking ...