Finally, Raoul glances at us in the rearview mirror. “So, Mercs… where are we headed?”
Chapter Twenty
MERCS
The car slows as we turn onto the street I told Raoul to take.
I didn’t tell him where we were going, just that I’d say when to stop. Effa sits beside me, relaxed, completely unaware of what I’ve got planned. She peers out the window like a curious kid, trying to work out my surprise. I’m half watching her, half scrolling through my phone, pulling up the design again to make sure it still feels right.
It does.
Then my screen lights up with a message.
I glance sideways at Effa to make sure she’s still distracted. She is completely absorbed in guessing our destination, so I look down.
Vex.
My stomach drops before I open it.
Vex:Time’s up, son!
Three fucking words.
That’s all it takes.
A cold wave of dread floods my system, washing straight through the high I was riding minutes ago. My jaw tightens as I clear the notification and lock the screen, forcing my breathing to steady.
Motherfucker!
I’m in deep.
Deep enough that I can’t see the bottom anymore.
I owe a bookie more money than I can realistically repay in one hit. Vex refused my offer to pay him back in installments, saying he doesn’t run charity cases.
Now the clock’s run out.
I’ll have to meet him, alone, to try and negotiate something before this spirals.
But I know how men like Vex operate.
This does not end clean.
I tell myself I went into it for the right reasons.
One gamble.
One calculated risk.
Now it’s a noose tightening.
I know I need to tell Effa.
I’ve kept this from her too long.
But men don’t get themselves into messes like this.
Dammit! I can already see the look on her face—full of disappointment and hurt. Not because of the money, but because I didn’t tell her. Because I was too chicken shit trying to be a man. But mostly because I broke her one non-negotiable rule.
