Anguish
My heart stutters. He used our names. Melt.
“Fine, hurry it up.”
He ends the call, and turns back to me. “You tell him anything else?”
“Ah, no.”
“Good.”
He turns and storms down the hall. “Mack?” I cry, before he reaches his room.
He looks back at me. “What?”
“Why does he want you,” I hesitate, “in the ground.”
His face hardens. “Because I took his wife, fucked her, had her baby, and now she’s dead.”
Oh, boy.
Shit just got real.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MACK
“You didn’t fuckin’ tell me any of this shit,” Maddox snarls, pacing the living room.
“Shit, Mack,” Krypt grunts.
“Mack,” Santana says softly, her eyes disappointed.
“Yeah,” I growl. “That’s because it wasn’t any of your fuckin’ business.”
“He wants you dead, he knows where you live—it’s my fuckin’ business,” Maddox retorts, his voice hard.
“He’s my brother.”
He stands, walking over and gripping my shoulder, hurling me closer. “And so am I.”
“You think I forget that?” I growl.
“That fucker came to your front door. Fuck knows what he would have done if you answered it.”
“He wouldn’t have done any-fuckin’-thing because he’s a piece of weak shit.”
“Don’t matter. Your baby is there.”
I flinch. He always has to shove that in my fuckin’ face. Like I don’t already know every second I lay my eyes on that boy.
“Low fuckin’ blow,” I hiss.
“It’s the truth,” he grunts, shoving me back.
“All I need from you is to make sure my house is watched. That’s it. This ain’t club business, and there’s no reason for that to change.”
Maddox runs his hand through his now short hair. “I’ve got shit goin’ down left right and center. I’ve got cops questioning me, an angry fuckin’ biker club, and a bunch of drug runners from Mexico still out for my blood. Last thing I need is more shit.”
“I’m askin’ for someone to keep a watch on my place when I’m not there, not a fuckin’ war.”
“He wants you in the ground. It’s a war.”
“He’s my fuckin’ problem,” I warn. “Stay out of it.”
“Not gonna happen. I’ve got people I care about all around. Who do you think he’s goin’ to target for revenge? Fuck, Mack, why didn’t you tell me?”
“None. Of. Your. Fuckin’. Business,” I grate out.
“Fuck, bro,” Krypt mutters. “It is our business.”
I take a deep breath for calm. They don’t fuckin’ get it.
“Anything else we should know?” Maddox snaps. “Or is that it?”
“That’s it,” I grate.
“Fine, I’ll have people on your fuckin’ door, but we’re goin’ to sort this out, Mack. I don’t need more shit.”
“You’re not doin’ anything; I am.”
He steps closer again. “We’re done talkin’ here. The decision has been made. Take care of your kid and that nanny, and we’ll work out the rest.”
He turns before I can answer and storms out, Santana rushing after him. Krypt stands, gives me a hard look, and leaves.
Fuck me.
This shit just gets worse.
~*~*~*~
JAYLAH
“It’s been two fuckin’ weeks.”
I cringe at the aggressive voice flowing through my phone.
“I know, and I’ve got some of the money for you.”
“I don’t want fuckin’ some, I want it all. I’m sick of waitin’. These repayments are doin’ fuck all.”
I swallow, staring down at Diesel who is sleeping on my bed, beside me.
“I’m working on it. I’ll have it for you in less than a month. Shit, come on.”
“You better have another two thousand for me by this afternoon, or I’m goin’ to make myself known.”
Great.
Mack paid me for last week today, but I only have one week . . . it isn’t enough to give him two thousand. Shit. I’m going to have to ask Mack for an advance, make something up.
“Fine, I’ll have it for you.”
“Meet me around the back of Costa’s at five p.m. Don’t be late.”
“Got it,” I mutter.
“And if you fuckin’ forget, I’ll pay a visit to your boyfriend.”
Then he hangs up.
I close my eyes, gathering my courage.
This is going to end badly; I can just feel it.
~*~*~*~
“Please,” I say, my eyes pleading. “I have a bill, and I need the extra.”
Mack crosses his arms, staring at me. “How do I know you’re not goin’ to bolt?”
“I’m not, I have money owing and . . .”
“If you have money owing,” he cuts me off, “why don’t you just pay it with the money I gave you?”
Shit.
“My bills are, ah, more than that.”
“Show me.”
I squeak, “What?”
“If I’m goin’ to give you extra money, you better show me the bills and make me believe that two grand is going into them.”
Oh, no.
Oh. No.
“I don’t have them here,” I begin.
“Well, sucks for you then.”
He turns and walks out.
Walks out.
I drop my head into my hands and groan. This isn’t happening. How am I supposed to go to Gregor with less than he wanted? Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m going to have to face him without the cash; I have no choice. Swallowing my fear down, I lift my phone and dial Santana.
“Hey chicky,” she answers, first ring.
“Hey Santana,” I swallow. “Could you watch Diesel for a few hours?”
“Sure, what’s going on?”
“I have an appointment. I don’t want to drag him along.”
“No problems, I’ll swing by. What time?”
I stare down at my watch. Shit.
“Could you come past now?”
It’s nearly four-thirty; he made sure I had very little time. Now I have no choice but to drain my bank account, and go to him with what I have. Which is $1752.50. Not enough.
“I’m on my way.”
Santana arrives ten minutes later. Diesel has just woken from his sleep, and is halfway through a bottle when she swings in. Mack is working out downstairs and I’m hoping he’ll stay down there until I’m out. He can ask questions later. I pass Diesel over, and Santana begins cooing right away.
“Are you okay?” she asks, looking up at me as I stare helplessly at my keys.
“Ah, yeah, I’m fine.” I straighten and turn to her. “I’ll see you soon.”
She gives me a suspicious look, but nods and says, “Okay, enjoy.”
I rush out before Mack comes out.
God, I don’t have a good feeling about this.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gregor is standing in the deserted car park. The people have long gone, since the shop closed at four. It’s quiet, and it’s secluded. No one is around and that’s not a good thing. I get out of my car and hesitantly make my way towards him. His eyes scan over me as I near, and a small smirk plays around his lips.
“Well, I was wondering if you’d do a runner.”
I swallow down my fear and bring back my sass. “I said I’d pay you, Gregor, and I will.”
He tilts his head to the side, studying me. “And you’ve got my money?”
Shit.
“I couldn’t get all of it, but I have three quarters.”
His eyes harden instantly, and he steps forward. I step back.
“I said two thousand. I don’t mess the fuck around.”
Shivers run through me and my skin prickles.
“I don’t have two thousand, I’ve only been working a few w
eeks, and—”
He slaps me, so hard my head swings to the side. “And I only gave you two fuckin’ weeks to get it back to me. I’ve been generous, givin’ you longer, and all I am askin’ for is two thousand fuckin’ dollars.”
Tears burn under my eyelids.
“I know,” I croak. “But I don’t have it.”
A hard fist connects with my stomach, doubling me over in pain. I drop to my knees and he delivers a swift kick to my ribs, sending me to my back. An agonized scream is ripped from my throat as I land with a thump. He leans over me, his eyes wild. “You’ve got a week to get me four thousand; double what you owed me this week. You don’t? Next time we meet, it’ll be with me puttin’ a bullet in your brain.”
He reaches down, taking the money from my hands. He flicks through it, straightens and disappears.
Shit.
~*~*~*~
“Where’ve you been?”
I look up as I step through the front door. Mack, Maddox, and Santana are all sitting around the dining table. I’m trying to stand as straight as possible, but my stomach is turning in ways that are beginning to concern me.
“I had an appointment,” I say. My voice, God, it’s so obvious.
I’m right. Mack’s face scrunches and he narrows his eyes, getting up and walking towards me. I take a painful step back.
“Where were you?”
“I said,” I say, my voice strained, “an appointment.”
He knows I’m bullshitting, and he calls it. “Bullshit.”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
I try to step away, but his hand curls around my arm, stopping me. I wince, as quietly as possible.
“I fuckin’ employed you, therefore you do need to explain yourself to me. You left the baby with Santana and ran out.”
I lose my shit.
Stress, fear, all of it—it all gets the better of me.
“You know what?” I cry, tugging my arm out of his. “Shove your job up your fucking ass. I don’t need it. I don’t need you. I certainly don’t need an asshole who can’t even look at his child and acknowledge him.”
It’s a low blow, I know.
I turn, trying to get my arm from his grip, but he’s too strong.
“Let me go!”
“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on, or do I need to guess?”
“Fuck you.”
“Has it got somethin’ to do with you askin’ me for more money?”
I stiffen, and he snorts. “That’s what I thought. You’re goin’ to sit down, you’re goin’ to tell me what the fuck is goin’ on, and we’re goin’ to sort it.”
“No,” I say, jerking my arm. It doesn’t budge. “I’m going to get my shit and leave.”
The state.
No, the country.
Possibly find a one-way ticket to space and never return.
“No,” he grinds out. “You’re goin’ to sit down and fuckin’ tell me what’s goin’ on.”
“I don’t want, or need, your club involved in my shit. Thank you, goodbye.”
I tug, hard. So hard he lets me go, and I stumble backwards. A pained cry leaves my throat and I double over, gripping my ribs as pain radiates through my body.
“Stand up,” Mack’s voice is like a whip. “Now.”
“No,” I croak.
“Stand up!” he roars.
I stand slowly, and he takes a step closer. Maddox is standing now too, I notice. Santana is watching with a concerned expression on her face.
“Lift your shirt,” Mack orders.
“What?” I cry. “No way!”
“Now, or I’ll do it for you.”
“Do as he says,” Maddox growls.
I turn to him. “Who invited you, Hulk?”
He flashes me a grin. “You either do it, or I fuckin’ will.”
I grind my teeth, and lift my shirt. I hear a few hissing sounds, and then Mack’s voice. “What the fuck happened?”
“It’s nothing. I fell.”
Suddenly, he’s in my face, his arm curled around my bicep. “You tell me, or I’ll tie you down until you fuckin’ do.”
I close my eyes and without warning, burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears. I hate my stupid ex-boyfriend. I hate Gregor, and I hate Mack. Okay, that’s a lie, I don’t hate Mack, but he’s on my hit list for the moment. He’s close in my weak moment, so without thinking I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He stiffens, but I don’t care. Oh, man, he smells amazing. Like beer, and man, and something else, something better.
“My stupid ex-boyfriend,” I wail. “He got himself into serious shit, he owed money, I wanted to help him. I stole drugs and I sold them, giving him the cash. The dealer found me, and now I owe him money.”
I realize I’m clutching Mack’s shirt, sobbing wildly.
“Now he wants more than I can give.”
“Let me go.”
“No,” I screech, ignoring his request. “Please don’t fire me. If you fire me, he’ll kill me.”
“Girl,” he says, his voice low. “You’re puttin’ shit all over my shirt . . . let me go.”
“You just need to deal with it,” I hiccup, curling into him more. His body grows even more tense. “You are always so mean, it won’t hurt you to just deal.”
Maddox bursts into a fit of laughter, and I hear Santana giggling as Mack’s body quickly turns harder than a brick wall. Someone doesn’t like comfort.
“Shhhh,” I whisper.
Maddox’s laugh gets so loud it’s all I can hear. Mack tries to peel me from clutching him like he’s the air I need to breathe.
“Love the snot, embrace the snot,” I murmur into his chest.
“You’re seriously whacked,” he grunts. “Now let me go, and tell me what’s goin’ down.”
I don’t want to, but I pull back, swiping the back of my hand across my face. I look up into the most dazzling brown eyes I’ve ever seen and I want to melt. Pity they’re hard. I take a step back, and blink up at him. When my vision clears, I continue on with my story.
“I didn’t have any money. When I saw this job come up, I applied for it. Gregor called this afternoon and requested two thousand dollars. I didn’t have it, so he beat me a little, and then told me I now owe him four thousand next week.”
“Gregor?” Maddox growls. “Gregor Potani?”
I whip my head around. “You know him?”
His eyes widen. “You stole money from Gregor Potani?”
“Stop saying it like that,” I squeak. “I was trying to help my boyfriend.”
“Gregor Potani . . .” he repeats.
“I get it!” I snap. “Stop.”
“You got rocks in your fuckin’ head?” he continues, ignoring my outburst.
“I didn’t know how big he was until after . . .”
“You do have rocks in your head.”
I turn back to Mack. “Can you tell him to shut up?”
“You stole money from Gregor Potani?” he says, his eyes wide, as if I’m a freaking moron.
Like I don’t already know that.
“I know, okay?”
“You fuck around with someone, you don’t fuck around with Gregor Potani.”
“No shit!”
He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “How much?”
“What?”
“How much do you fuckin’ owe him?”
“Eight grand.”
“And you’ve given him?”
“Close to three and a half.”
Mack mutters a curse, and turns to me, his eyes hard. “Here’s the deal. I’ll give you the cash, you pay him and get him off your back and out of your life.”
“No way,” I say, shaking my head.
“I wasn’t finished. As repayment, you work for me until all that money is repayed.”
“In case you missed the vital point in all this, I’m not a nanny.”
“You are doing a good enough job; the kid is alive. That’s my
deal, you take it, or you fuckin’ get your ass blown to bits.”
I stare at him, narrowing my eyes.
“That’s it? I work for free until the money is back to you?”
His lips quirk. “There may be other duties involved, considerin’ I’m gettin’ your ass out of a seriously bad drug debt.”
“I am not going to fuck you.”
He grins at me. Shit, he’s good looking when he grins.
“Don’t grin at me. I’m no one’s whore.”
“I never said sex, but now you’ve mentioned it . . .”
“Dream on.”
He shakes his head, still grinning, and turns to Maddox. “I want someone trailin’ her, even after we’ve paid him off. God only knows what that fucker is up to.”
“Fuck, more?” Maddox growls, but I can see his eyes are tired. “Fine, I’ll put a trail on her.”
Then Mack turns back to me. “We got a deal?”
I stare at him, then look to Maddox, and then I sigh. I don’t have a choice. Unless I’m willing to strip, or worse, I’ll never have that money in time. “Deal.”
“Good, now sit down so I can check your ribs.”
“No, it’s—”
“Sit down, Jaylah,” he orders.
Taking a deep, calming breath, I walk over and sit down next to Santana at the dining table. She gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Welcome to the family,” she says.
“I don’t think so . . .”
She laughs softly. “Poor girl.”
Mack orders me to lift my shirt, and hesitantly, I do. He kneels in front of me, pressing my ribs and asking me exactly where he hit. The feeling of his fingers against my skin has me reconsidering fucking him. Shivers break out, and he notices, oh, he notices. I see his lips quirk, but thankfully, he says nothing. He pulls my shirt down and declares, “You’ll be fine. Just take it easy.”
I nod, standing. I reach out to Diesel. Santana shakes her head. “I’ll stay the night. You get some rest and you can start again in the morning.”
“But—”
“Do as she says,” Mack orders.
Right.
I lean down, pressing a kiss to Diesel’s head.
“Night, little man. Tomorrow on, it’s just you and I.”
I stand straight and head out of the room, but not before I catch the warm look that flickers across Mack’s face.
I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.