We had been driving for two minutes. Jack was looking out the window, Jimmy was driving from the front, and Sergei was sitting next to him, leaning against the door, watching us. I piled Maria and Yelena into the seat and then sat near the door.

Finally, after driving down the block, heading toward Vincent's, Jimmy said over his shoulder, “I hear you got girls in that church of yours, Boris?”

I thought about it, knew the jig was up, but decided one last hail mary attempt wouldn't hurt. “Nah, unfortunately not, Jimmy. Just some boys who can’t look for their own food.”

“Oh really? Well, I heard a little rumor from a certain someone,” he said, glancing straight at Jack in the rearview mirror. “That both of those lads with you are girls, even the cripple? I’m thinking you probably got a lot more back at home, trying to skimp out on your taxes like the rest of them.”

“Doesn’t like the way Vincent runs things either, if I remember what he was saying before he came around that corner,” Sergei said, like he was answering for me. “Almost funny, Vincent gets you to collect the taxes, and you're the one avoiding them,” he said, shaking his head.

“Well, if he doesn’t like the tax that much, he can always straighten it out with Vincent in a moment,” Jimmy replied.

Bastards. They think this is a game? The gangs are always easier than the finks, so I guess it’s time to roll the dice.

“Alright, boys, jig’s up, I guess. Yeah, almost everyone back at my church are girls. Probably a few thousand bucks’ worth in taxes I’ve avoided. But I’ll bet you every cent of that, if you can drop my girls back and drive me to Vincent, he’ll hear me out and wave the money off.”

Jimmy and Sergei looked at each other, started smiling like I was off my rocker, before Jimmy looked back at me, slowing the whole taxi down. “And what makes you think he’ll do that? Hell, Boris, I’ve had to drive you to beat a man for ten bucks, just ‘cause he was a week late. You think he’s gonna wave off a few thousand?”

Maria was looking at me now, hand over her mouth. I had never told her that’s where I got some of the extra money from, where I was going during the day. I’d never told anyone at the church. Didn’t want them to see the ugly side of life.

Or me, I guess. I… I didn’t like the way she was looking at me, so I avoided her gaze. I kept going. I had to. I was so close.

“Hell, after our conversation, I wouldn’t be surprised if he handed me a few bucks and sent me on my way with a drink,” I said, looking up.

Jimmy scoffed into his hand. “More likely he’s gonna kill every single kid in that church and then save you for last.”

“Sure, Jimmy, I might die today. But my kids are practically gonna live like royalty from tomorrow.” I thought, but I bit my tongue, trying to keep my face straight, like I was talking to a fink at a dice game.

Maria went to say something, but I clutched her hand, trying to keep her from speaking. Of course, she didn’t listen, pulling her hand away, raising her chin in defiance and saying, “Well, if I’m being thrown into Paradise, the least I could do is tell you to go fuck yourself. So, Mr. Jimmy, Mr. Sergei—go fuck yourselves.”

Even Sergei raised his eyebrows at that. Then both men started laughing. “Boris, you know how well that kind of attitude would go down in the brothels? Could afford to be a fink if you sell her,” Jimmy said, like I was the only one worth talking to.

My vision blurred. I felt my hands clench, knuckles popping. I almost ripped his throat out right there. But I kept myself in check, trying to get at least the girls out of the taxi.

“I wouldn’t envy the poor fool that bought her. He wouldn't live past five minutes,” I said, my voice, thankfully, calm, but far harder than I intended. I was trying to at least show I was with her. I think it worked, because she was clutching my hand again.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Yelena, such a smart girl, knew something was wrong. But she was looking at me, not one shred of doubt in those eyes, like I could take on the whole world and be back in time for dinner. Well, sorry kiddo… But I might be a little late today.

“Boys, I earned about three hundred today,” I said, trying to distract them from Maria. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the money from the festival. “Let’s put some real stakes on our little bet. I’ll bet you real money, not some supposed amount. All of this,” I said, waving it around, “drop my girls off, and let’s go meet Vincent. If I walk out of his office alive, you’ll owe me all of it. When you drop ‘em off, I’ll give it to you. Think of it as a down payment.”

Again, Maria looked at me. I couldn’t give the game away. I needed her to trust me, even if she had just realized I’d been lying to her for years. Just one more time, and I could solve this whole mess.

Jimmy scoffed, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing at Sergei, then back at me. “You’re real confident for a man about to die”.

Sergei looked at me flatly, telling me what I already knew. “If Vincent thinks you've been lying, he’ll throw every orphan of yours into Paradise.”

Jimmy snorted. “Yeah, and I ain’t getting skinned alive just ‘cause choir boy wants to gamble with his life.”

I leaned forward, pushing my luck. “Well think of it this way, if I'm wrong, you're three hundred richer, Vincent will never know the girls were with us today, and you get to tell everyone Boris the tax collector is dead. And if you're wrong? You only lose three hundred. There’s a lot going in your favor here, boys. Can’t believe I’m even offering you this deal.”

Jimmy and Sergei exchanged a long glance, the moment stretching like an eternity, though it couldn’t have lasted more than a couple of seconds. Finally, Sergei gave a slight nod, and Jimmy spoke. “Well, it’s your lucky day. Sure, Boris, we’ll take that bet.”

The car fell into a heavy silence. Jack stared out the window, and I found myself staring at the side of his head. After a few minutes, I nudged Maria gently, signaling for the papers she’d been working on earlier, as subtle as I could manage.

She shot me a skeptical look but handed them over. I took one of the papers, and with slow deliberation wrapped it carefully around the cash from the festival. I handed the whole thing to Maria. Then I took the crumpled five-dollar bill from that girl and wrapped it around the stack of papers. I was praying that the money wouldn’t make a sound, and thankfully, it didn’t. I looked down at my little creation, and prayed with all my heart that it would fool those bastards for at least two seconds.

Her eyes welled up as she realized what I was doing. She grabbed my hand, holding on tight, her grip unyielding as we drove in silence. Yelena settled on my lap, her small, warm body a comforting presence in the quiet car.

As we passed the familiar shacks, something felt wrong. Then it hit me. It was as if they were waving goodbye, but at the same time, begging me to stay. Those metal sheets tied together with scraps, so familiar, suddenly seemed so full of life, as if they were stealing what was left of mine.

We arrived a short distance from the church, at a corner I'd walked past a thousand times. As we climbed out, I handed Maria everything—the festival money, the supplies, the dice, the signs. Everything except for the fabric I had wrapped Yelena in. That, I kept for myself.

Suddenly, without warning, Maria dropped everything and threw her arms around me, whispering in my ear, “I understand. Goodbye, Boris.”

A lump caught in my throat, and I nearly lost it right there. I never thought she would forgive me for being a tax collector for Vincent. But she did, in less than twenty minutes. I should’ve trusted that she would understand. I whispered back, “Look after them. Make sure you get home safe.”

I felt her nod against my shoulder, and I could hear her tears falling on my shirt as she pulled away, her face clearing. Good. She made sure the taxi drivers didn’t see, didn’t catch on.

I squatted down in front of Yelena, who looked up at me with serious eyes. She placed her little hand on my face, making me meet her gaze, and after a long moment, she spoke. “Boris, when you get back from Vincent, can you tuck me in tonight? It’s my birthday, you have to promise.”

I felt a sob almost escape me, but instead, I blinked the tears away before they could form, and smiled down at her. “Sure, kiddo. Here, happy birthday.” I snapped my fingers behind her ear and the toy I got earlier “magically” appeared in my hand, as I put it down gently into hers. It was the best gift I'd ever gotten for her. Why did it have to be the last?

“I’ll see you later,” I lied, standing up, trying not to let the tears fall. I winked at Maria, patted the top of Yelena’s head, then hopped back into the taxi. We drove off toward Vincent’s, and I didn’t look back.