“I take it you didn’t come to see me.” Tommy doesn’t even look at me. I might be sitting next to him, but I feel cold, even with the sweater on. He’s sitting open, legs wide with one ankle crossed over the knee of his other leg and his arms spread on the back of the couch, but I feel more distance from him than I have all night. I shouldn’t be bothered by it, but I am.
“Didn’t even know you owned the place till Dante sent us over. Congrats, by the way,” the one who didn’t smirk earlier says, and Tommy inclines his head at his words.
Not sure if the congratulations are really in order. His family owns the business, or so he said in his speech on that first day. But maybe it’s just him taking it over or something? I mean, he has made changes. Good ones from what I’ve seen. Better clients coming in, not just the bums off the street. Not that I can really complain about who comes in, though. As long as I get paid, I should keep my opinions to myself. And I have.
“You the ones who did that to her face?” Tommy asks as he grabs a drink off the coffee table, sipping it casually.
“Despite what some say, we don’t leave marks unless it’s the permanent kind.” This from Liam, the smirker, as he grabs his own drink off the table. There’s a third drink for William, the more serious of the two, but he leaves it untouched. I’ve only met three of the four Kings before. Liam, William, and Mason. Alexander was never there when I was.
I don’t know much about them other than what the rumors say. They call themselves the Kings, and no one really knows why. When I asked around, I was told they weren’t born with a crown on their head but that they took it from others. Claimed their land, their people, and their kingdom, carved from the remains of those who tried to keep them down.
All I know is I was desperate when I sought them out that first time. A decision I’ve regretted ever since.
Unlike Tommy, who looks to be in his thirties, the Kings are young. Maybe even as young as me, but you can tellin their eyes that they’ve seen things. Worse than what I have, and I’ve seen some messed-up things.
Liam and William are the collectors. Those who get whatever Alexander, their unofficial leader, wants. Mason is the wild card and more of the mental psychotic type than anything else. When I was in the room with him, I swear he stole the heat from everything living and just basked in the glow of hell’s fire at his feet.
“That true?”
It takes a second before I realize Tommy’s asking me, even if he isn’t looking at me.
“Yes. I mean no.”
“Which is it?” His head moves slowly to me. No smile. No hint of a smirk. Scary as hell is what it is.
My words come out quietly, fear taking over various parts of my body. My voice seems to be in hiding. “No, they weren’t the ones who did this. Yes, that’s the truth.” I might not know who attacked me, but I know it wasn’t them. Makes no sense if it was.
Liam chuckles, but I only see him out of the corner of my eye. The rest of me is focused on Tommy. It might seem dumb, but he can reach me. Could strangle me with ease. The others need to at least stand to do so.
Tommy continues to stare at me, waiting for me to tell him more.
“I owe them money.” It’s rushed, but it’s there. And from the flare in his eyes, he heard it.
“How much?”
“Four hundred and twenty thousand,” I tell him, and he doesn’t even flinch at the amount.
“Actually, it’s a bit more than that.”
I turn to look at Liam and see him putting his drink down on the coffee table between us.
“Quitea bit since you made us come and collect,” William says.
“Whaaa?” is all I manage. I’m so baffled that I don’t even get the chance for my life to flash before my eyes when William pulls out a gun. My breath stalls in my chest at the mere sight of it.
“I hardly think a gun is necessary, Will,” Tommy draws out as he looks over at him.
If William is hoping to shock me, it’s working. I’m frozen. Not even my hands are moving.
He shrugs, then puts it away. “It’s been boring lately.”
Even though the gun is gone from view, I can’t move. I can hardly breathe.
“How long have you held her debt for?” Tommy takes a sip of his drink as if he’s asking about the weather and not how long I’ve been tied to loan sharks who aren’t known for being nice.
“Four months,” William supplies as he picks lint off his pants.
I might not be answering anything or talking—hell, I’m hardly breathing—but I’m taking everything in as if I were a bug on the wall, seeing everything, hearing it all. I swear I can even hear the way William scratches at his suit pants. It’s so loud to me. I’m either going into shock or developing superpowers. Whatever it is, I’m unable to do anything but sit and listen.
