Closing my eyes, I say what I’m almost certain of. “And you think I can help? I don’t have that kind of money. Not even close.”
Rueben snaps his fingers. His men act quickly, grab my father as their boss rises to his feet, while he shoves his sleeves past his elbows. “That’s too bad.”
My father is now on his feet too, as the two men hold him up so the asshole in charge can get in a few cheap shots. It’san unfair fight. The man using my father as a punching bag is an amateur trained MMA fighter. Father is an out of shape businessman, and even if he wasn’t being held up against his will, he would be no match for the gangster.
When my father coughs after taking a third blow to his middle, my mother tries to intervene. “Stop. She’s lying. I know she has money.”
Rueben gives him one more solid blow, making my father’s legs crumble under him. Turning, he looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Is that true?”
“No.” I hiccup.
“Lies!” My mother shouts before Rueben backhands her to shut her up.
“Sit the fuck down and stop talking.” He doesn’t yell, but it’s an order she knows to obey. “Now let’s try this again. I’m here to collect what is owed me, and I’m not leaving until I get it.”
I want to scream, but I know that won’t do me any good. So I stick with the truth and hope that eventually Rueben will hear the truth in my voice. It’s all I’ve got, not that I think he’ll care.
“I don’t have that kind of money. I swear.” My voice catches again, and I hate that I’m crying over a man who I’m not sure would do the same if I were the one taking the beating. “I’m not sure what they told you, but it’s true. My funds are very limited, nothing close to what you’re demanding.”
One nod is all I get before he kicks my father and bends. “Is she telling the truth? Did you lie to me? Are you willing to bet your life on it?”
With a cough, my father’s gaze locks on the man as he continues to weave his lies. “She has a separate account. The money I had in the other account—the one we were using to hold your money—she transferred a large sum into that one before mine was seized. Isn’t that right, Ingrid? Did you think I didn’t know?”
“What?” I rub my forehead, confused. “No. I transferred some of it. Enough to fund my education. Nowhere near the amount he’s demanding. A few thousand. I swear.”
I always wondered why the amount in that joint account was so large, but knew better than to question it. My father wouldn’t have explained. He would have told me not to worry about it. So I hadn’t. Now it all makes sense.
Rueben walks over to me and yanks me to my feet. “Let me see the account.”
Wrapping my fist around the small steak knife, I hold it in front of me for protection. It’s removed in a matter of seconds by him and clatters to the floor. He shakes his head and makes a tsking sound as he waits.
I sink back into the chair, knowing my next words will anger him. “That account’s been closed.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, the back of his hand skates across my cheek. The same damn one Wilson shattered. The burn reminds me of the last time a man hit me, and I brace myself for another blow that never comes. I’m released and end up falling onto the floor, instinctively folding into the fetal position to protect myself.
When nothing happens, I dare to open my eyes. It’s long enough to see Rueben dragging my father into the foyer by his leg. Pleas of desperation fall from the man’s lips who raised me. They are ignored, and only stop when Rueben pulls out a gun and shoves it in his face.
“What do you suggest we do now?” he asks, pressing the barrel of the gun into his forehead.
Then his cold eyes turn to me. “Do you want your father to suffer more than he already has? Doesn’t matter to me how I get paid. Killing him would only bring me satisfaction, not clear his debt. That shifts to the family. Your mother’s next.” His eyes lock with mine as he smirks. “Then you.”
Instead of shooting him, he slams the gun across my father’s face. Making a large gash appear on his cheek. Then he shoves the gun into the back of his pants, has his men pick my father up again, and begins punching him as hard as he can. Grunt after grunt, until my father’s head hangs low.
“Please stop.” With a surge of energy, I stand and quickly run into the room. “I don’t have that kind of money. If I did, I’d hand it over to you, but I don’t.”
My stomach roils as Rueben’s eyes rake over my body. There’s a lustful gleam in his eyes that makes me want to run.
“You’re a pretty girl, Ingrid.” He licks his lips, one side of them turning up. “My club’s always hiring, looking for fresh talent. A couple of years, maybe less, and the debt’s gone.”
His sudden approach sends me stumbling backward as he once again scans me, and I can feel goosebumps rising on my arms. One hand squeezes my arm as he brazenly slides a finger from the other down the front of my blouse. “Or we could…”
The front door busts open and the shadow of a man storms in, gun drawn, looking like he’s ready to kill. My knees go weak, my breath stills, and I close my eyes, recalling the day he saved me from Wilson.
He’s my knight in shining armor, always coming in at the right moment to save his damsel in distress. I really hate that I’m always the fucking damsel, while at the same time I couldn’t be more grateful he always seems to know when to make an entrance.
Chapter 20
Darius
