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I couldn’t.
That was the problem.
I couldn’t leave him.
“How much does he owe you?” I heard myself ask, keeping my eyes glued to Shane. “Joey. What does he owe?”
“Six hundred,” he mused, arching a brow. “You got that kind of cash on you, princess?”
No, I didn’t. I didn’t make that kind of money in a month at work. My parents were barely breaking even, so they didn’t have cash to spare. Neither had any of my friends.
Fuck.
Smiling knowingly, Shane inclined his head to the door. “Don’t worry. I have plenty of work for him.”
“He’s not dealing for you.”
“You get a say in this, princess?”
“I don’t need one,” I shot back, shaking. “I know Joey. He will never deal.”
“Then he’ll pay with his arms,” one of the men joked.
“And his legs,” laughed another.
Panic-stricken, I racked my brain for a solution to the mess my boyfriend had gotten himself into. “I can get you the money.”
“Now you’re speaking my language.”
“But that’s it,” I warned. “I get the money, and you leave him alone.”
The men around me all laughed again like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.
“I’m not fucking joking,” I snapped. “I’ll pay what he owes, but you have to back off, do you hear me?”
“You get me what he owes, and we’ll talk,” Shane replied, eyes dancing with amusement.
I knew I was being played. I knew these men had no intention of following my wishes, but what could I do? Walk away knowing what they had planned for my boyfriend?
Never.
Trembling when I reached my car, I sank into the driver’s seat and locked all the doors while I waited for my recently acquired pal to pick up.
“You rang, Mrs. Joey the hurler?”
“Gibsie?” Pressing the heel of my hand to my forehead, I exhaled a ragged breath. “I need a favor.”
______________________
A little while later, a silver Ford Focus parked up behind my car. With bated breath, I watched from the rearview mirror as Gibsie climbed out of his car and walked to the passenger side of mine.
“I know I have no right to ask you for anything,” I blurted out the minute he climbed into the passenger seat beside me. “We barely know each other, and you’re probably thinking that I’m some sort of crazy person for showing up on your doorstep earlier, and for phoning you, but I’m so damn desperate and he’s—”
“You said six hundred?” Gibsie cut me off by asking as he retrieved a wad of cash from his coat pocket and placed it on my lap. “It’s all there.”
“Thank you.” Shoulders slumping in both guilt and relief, I nodded wearily. “Seriously, thank you so damn much, Gibsie. I know it was a lot to ask of you, and I promise you that I will pay you back every cent. It might take me a while, but I will get it all back to you with interest—”
“Relax, I don’t care about the money,” he said, turning in his seat to face me. “It’s yours. No strings attached.”
