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“What could he have possibly owed you that warranted rape and being beaten?”
“Money, of course. But the amount really doesn’t matter,” he said with a shrug. “He knew what he was getting into, and he couldn’t cover his promises. There have to be consequences for things like that. And the consequences are sometimes severe.”
“This is bullshit. Jordan and Anthony played poker with you and got in over their heads, so you tortured Jordan and killed Anthony.”
The man pushed back to his feet and stepped closer to Snow. He tensed his muscles, ready to strike when the asshole got just close enough, but before he could move, the bodyguard also stepped close. The cold steel muzzle of the gun pressed painfully into his temple, warning him not to move while the other man spoke.
“You know, not everyone has a billionaire in their pocket like you. We have to scrape and struggle to make something of ourselves,” the bastard started.
It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that neither he nor Lucas had a dime to their names growing up. They’d worked all their lives for everything they had, but he really doubted the man had any interest in the truth.
“I just so happen to be good at poker. Good enough to make a steady stream of income from it by playing friends. But the problem is that friends get tired of losing to you night after night, so you have to keep bringing in fresh blood. And sometimes the stakes start to get high and sometimes…I’ll extend a player a loan or two.”
“You fucking conned Jordan and all the others. You tricked them—”
“I have never fucking lied to one of them!” he snarled, getting right in Snow’s face. “They all made promises to me. ‘No worries, Gene. I’ve got it.’ And ‘I can get the money in just a couple of days. You know I’m good for it.’ ” Gene stepped back, his fat upper lip curling in disgust. “They were the liars. Not me.” Gene stomped over to the bed and plopped down on the edge, glaring at Snow as if he were the one telling all those poker players to lie to Gene.
Seconds ticked by before Gene shook his head and looked down at the floor. “I don’t know who’s raising kids these days, but it’s a fucking disgrace. A man’s word is his bond. It’s the only way to judge his worth. And if he doesn’t fucking keep his word, then he has to pay a price.”
“How much is a person’s life worth to you?” Snow snarled, ignoring the gun still pressed to his head. “How much did all the dead men owe you? Ten thousand? A hundred thousand each? Is that what a life is worth to you?”
“Those dead men aren’t worth shit to me. They had a choice. Pay me what they owed…” he paused and stood. Stepping away from the bed, he waved his arm toward the stained and sagging mattress. “Or they could shoot a video for me. I had to get my money back somehow, and you’d be amazed at what people will pay for when it comes to sex and getting off.”
“Fuck you! Jordan didn’t agree to that. He wasn’t willing!” He tried to push away from the wall again, but the man with the gun grabbed him by the throat with his free hand and shoved him back.
“No, Jordan wasn’t willing. But he also couldn’t pay the forty-five thousand dollars he owed me. The longer I waited on him, the more money I lost. That’s why he was in the video. He had to understand that his childish, irresponsible behavior had a price.”
“And you shot him…?”
“Because I knew he’d never be able to keep his mouth shut. No matter his humiliation or the threats, he’d eventually open his mouth. Couldn’t allow that.” Gene shook his head again. “I’ve got two kids to feed and clothe. Customer service rep is shit pay, but this…this…keeps my kids in private school and clothes and with a roof over their heads.”
“You’re feeding your kids on ruined lives.”
Gene just chuckled at Snow. “I never held a gun to their heads to get them to sit down at the poker table. I didn’t force them to bet, let alone bet more than they could afford. They all chose to do that themselves. I just made sure they paid for their mistakes.”
Snow leaned back against the wall, pulling his throat free of the other man’s hold. There was no point in arguing with this fucker. He had his excuses and his carefully planned rationales for the horrible things he’d done. There was no convincing him that he was making an enormous mistake and that he should just hand himself over to the cops. Never going to happen.
