I see defeat flash in her eyes before the door closes, then reopens fully after the chain slides free. Holly stands before me in her waitress uniform, name tag slightly crooked, brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Despite her exhaustion, she stands straight, chin up, meeting my gaze directly.
"He's in the living room," she says, stepping aside to let me in.
The apartment is just as sparse as I remember: threadbare couch, coffee table littered with past-due notices, a small TV that's seen better days. James Mercer sits hunched on the couch, a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey in front of him. He looks up as I enter, his bloodshot eyes narrowing.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he slurs, struggling to stand. "It's not the fifteenth yet."
"It's the seventeenth, James," I reply evenly. "You're two days late. Again."
"Bullshit." He fumbles for his phone to check the date, knocking over the whiskey bottle in the process. Holly rushes to grab it before it spills completely.
"James, please," she says softly. "Just pay him what we have and ask for more time for the rest."
He rounds on her. "Shut up! I'm handling this!" Then back to me: "I don't have your money. Come back next week."
I shake my head. "No more extensions. King wants his five grand tonight. Full payment."
James laughs, a bitter, ugly sound. "Well, he's shit out of luck then. I've got maybe four hundred to my name."
"James," Holly interrupts, "what about the money from Uncle Ray? The loan he gave you last week?"
Her brother's face darkens. "That money's gone."
"Gone?" Holly's voice rises in disbelief. "That was two thousand dollars! You promised you were using it to pay off debts!"
"I tried to double it at Riverbrook Casino." James won't meet her eyes. "Had a solid hand, but—"
"You gambled away our last chance?" Holly's composure finally cracks. "We're going to lose the apartment! They're going to cut off the electricity!"
I stand awkwardly, witnessing this family breakdown. This is the part of collections I hate, seeing how the debt affects more than just the borrower.
"Look," I begin, "maybe we can work something out—"
"I'll go with you," Holly says suddenly, turning to face me. "To your club. I'll work off James's debt."
"What? No!" James lurches to his feet. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about saving your life," she responds, her voice steady despite the tears welling in her eyes. "They're going to hurt you if you don't pay, and we both know you can't pay."
"Holly, that's not how the club operates," I start to explain, but James cuts me off.
"You're not going anywhere with him." He grabs her arm roughly. "You think I don't know what kind of 'work' they'll have you doing?"
"Let go, James." Her voice is quiet but firm. "You're hurting me."
I step forward. "Take your hand off her. Now."
James releases her arm but turns his drunken rage toward me instead. "This is your fault! You and your criminal friends, preying on people with problems!"
"No one forced you to borrow money from us," I remind him, keeping my voice level. "No one forced you to gamble it away either."
That's when he lunges at me, a wild haymaker that I see coming from a mile away. I sidestep easily, but he keeps coming, throwing clumsy punches and shouting incoherently. One of his fists grazes my jaw. More luck than skill, and something in me snaps.
I'm not a fighter by nature, but years in an MC teaches you how to handle yourself. I catch his next punch, twist his arm behind his back, and slam him face-first into the wall, holding him there with ease.
"Stop it! Both of you!" Holly shouts, her voice cracking with fear.
"Stay back, Holly," I warn, as James continues to struggle against my hold. I increase the pressure on his arm, making him yelp in pain. "I don't want to hurt him, but he's not giving me much choice."
