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“Your payment is due,” Liam said, pressing the gun to the man’s temple.
Charlie glanced between us, his brows turned up, and his stare glistened with fear. The woman struggled in my arms as she watched Liam cock the gun. “She isn’t involved in this.”
“Should have thought that one through, then,” Liam said. It was an empty threat, but I doubt the man could tell. Liam was a closed book, except for three people in this world.
“Please, please, don’t hurt him,” the woman cried.
I swallowed down the discomfort plaguing me. I didn’t want to hurt her, mentally or physically.
Liam glanced over, his stare alarming. “What do you see in this man? You do realize the type of men he is tangled with?”
“No, you misunderstand. Please, no. He–he–he quit gambling,” she quibbled.
“So, you’re a liar too, Charlie?” Liam asked.
The man shuffled on his knees.
Liam nodded. “Tell the truth.”
Charlie licked his lips and turned towards me and the woman. “Cindie…I’m sorry,” he started. “I, uh…this is all my fault.”
“Where’s the money, Charlie?” Liam asked again.
“I don’t have it, but, but I can get it.”
Liam tsked. “Not good enough.” He moved over to Cindie in a flash, yanking her by the arm. “Sorry, sweetheart, but Charlie here doesn’t know how to pay his debts.”
“Just let her go!” Charlie yelled, lunging forward.
But I stepped between, slashing my knife against his arms.
“Stay the fuck down!” I ordered.
“I’ll be back,” Liam said, winking my way. He dragged Cindie down the hall by the elbow while I held the knife to Charlie. Liam wasn’t going to do anything beyond tie her up, maybe put a gag in her mouth, and fire a shot into the wall. He refused to kill innocents, and Cindie was innocent enough.
“Money, Charlie!” I shouted.
“I told you, I don’t have it!” he said. His lower lip trembled as he glanced down the empty hallway. “Just, don’t hurt her. Please.”
“That isn’t up to me, my man. Our employer wants what they are owed. And if they don’t get it…" I sliced his other arm. Blood dripped onto the beige carpet as he cradled his elbow. I grabbed a handful of hair, barely hanging onto his head.
Charlie was frail from his addictions—drugs, money, and no doubt alcohol, by the smell of his breath.
I threw him into a chair, tugging out some rope from my bag. Tightly, I wound the rope along his limbs, keeping him to the chair.
“The money or your life and Cindie’s life,” I said.
But he didn’t answer this time. A scream echoed through the house, and Charlie lunged forward, ready to run to her aid. I thrust my knuckles against his eye, punching hard. Charlie doubled back, his nose bleeding.
“Fuck you!” he shouted.
“Sorry, Charlie. You aren’t my type. But, I cannot say the same about Cindie back there…" I trailed my knife along his inner thigh. He tensed under my blade, watching me closely with eyes of a killer.
“If you touch her, I swear—” he screamed as I stabbed my knife into his thigh, missing the major ‘kill you’ areas. “FUCK!”
“What was that? You have the money and want to hand it over?”
Charlie’s brown eyes filled with rage and pain as he panted.
