"That means mind-blowing." Mina sits back looking pleased. "See? Silver lining. Fake marriage. Real orgasms. Could be worse."
I join her in a chuckle for a moment as I breathe in the encouragement she offers, but the front door opens and a man walks in who makes every muscle in my body go rigid. Marko Boskovic looks exactly the same as he did the last time I saw him over a month ago. And his scowling face still searches for me like I’m his prey.
Our eyes meet across the diner and his mouth curves into a smile that makes my blood run cold. He starts walking toward our booth and I grab Mina's wrist hard enough that she winces.
"What's wrong?" She follows my gaze and her expression shifts from curious to concerned. "Who's that?"
"Trouble." I don't take my eyes off Marko. "Big trouble."
He slides into the booth next to Mina, and she immediately scoots as far away from him as she can get. He doesn't seem to notice or care. His attention is locked on me and the smile hasn't left his face.
"Danica," he rasps salaciously. "I've been looking for you. You're a hard woman to find these days."
"I've been working." I force myself to meet his eyes even though everything in me wants to look away. He terrifies me, and it's impossible to hide that from anyone.
"Not at home, though." He drums his fingers on the table. "I went by your house. Several times, actually, and nobody answered. So I let myself in to check if you were dead or just avoiding me."
I feel a sliver of fear snake around my chest and clamp down, causing my belly to turn. He's been in my house which means he knows I’m not living there currently. If he decides to come after Vadim, what sort of war will that start?
"I've been staying with, uh… family." The lie comes quickly, though I may die regretting that one. If Vadim is sinister, this man makes him look like the Archangel Michael. Marko is death incarnate. "My aunt got sick and I've been helping take care of her." I flick a glance at Mina, who still gawks at the man with a pale face and a blank expression.
"That's interesting." Marko tilts his head. "Because when I searched your house, I couldn't find anything. It's like you packed up and disappeared."
"I didn't disappear," I snip, though I know better than to get hasty with him, so I calm myself. "I'm right here."
"You are." He leans forward, and I can smell cigarettes on his breath. "But you haven't been making your payments. We had an arrangement—you're supposed to be making payments. You've paid less than half."
"I'll get you the money." I glance at Mina, who's now staring with wide eyes. "I just need a few more days."
"You've had weeks." His expression turns to a snarl and all the false friendliness disappears. "Your brother racked up a debt and then ran off. That debt doesn't disappear just because he did. Someone has to pay, and that someone is you."
"I understand that." I'm shaking now, shivering thanks to the surge of adrenaline pumping through my chest. He doesn't have to remind me again of the threats he's made. I've just been surviving the past month and I forgot he'd be coming around to collect. "And I'm going to pay."
"Time's something you don't have." Marko reaches into his jacket and for one horrible second, I think he's going to pull out a gun. Instead, he pulls out a folded piece of paper. "That's the full amount your brother owed me. Plus interest."
I unfold the paper with shaking hands. The number at the bottom makes my vision swim. Thirty thousand euro? Now it's my turn to gawk and let my jaw drop.
"That's not the amount we agreed on." I push the paper back. "You said twelve thousand."
"We said that six weeks ago." Marko folds the paper. "Interest accumulates… And when you don't make payments, the amount goes up. I've added penalties and handling charges." His thumb pushes against his nostril and he blows hard, splattering mucus on the table and onto my food. It's disgusting and I cringe, but I can't just get up and run away like I want to.
"I don't have thirty thousand euro." My voice cracks. "I barely have a thousand saved. You know I can't pay this." I push the plate toward him and grit my teeth.
Why the fuck is life trying to shit on me so bad right now? This is insanity. If I could just whip out thirty grand, I wouldn't need this job.
"Let's go for a walk, shall we?" Marko stands, and I cower, but when he grabs my arm and yanks me out of the booth, there's not much I can do but drop my phone and go with him.
He's too strong to fight, and I've learned the hard way more than once not to back talk him. So I look over my shoulder at Mina, who's on her feet with my phone in her hands, and I mouth, "Call Vadim," before Marko has me out the door onto the street.
He stuffs me into the back of a car and climbs in after me, and it takes off down the street, squealing tires. I'm trembling, curling inward on myself and hoping Mina understood what I said. I pray she doesn't call the police. I don’t want Marko thinking I snitched on him. God only knows what he'd do if that happened. This situation is bad enough without that making things worse.
When we pull up in front of my home, I'm not surprised. He probably thinks I have money stashed here, and I do, but not thirty grand. I had four thousand euro saved up for a rainy day thinking maybe I'd have a down payment for a house I could buy myself, or if I had a medical emergency, it would help me.
If I get him that, maybe he will back off for a while. Or maybe not. Who knows.
Marko forces me out of the car and up the walk toward the house. The front door is unlocked when I try the handle, and my stomach twists as I push it open and step inside. The apartment looks like a tornado hit it—furniture overturned, drawers pulled out and dumped on the floor, pictures torn off the walls. They really did search every inch of this place looking for money.
I pick my way through the debris toward the kitchen. The cabinets are all standing open with their contents scattered across the counter and floor. I find the cabinet where I kept the coffee can and my heart sinks. It's empty—not just the can. The whole cabinet has been cleaned out.
