7
Barber
I stretchedout my neck and grinned at the man kneeling between my legs, my gun pressed against his forehead. My face throbbed from where he’d gotten in a few good hits, but I’d laid him out on the plush beige carpet before he could get in any more. The bastard had surprised me by attacking; not many people would be so stupid. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your head.”
The man—Holter or some shit—glared up at me, his wide nose bleeding profusely and his right eye already bruising from where I’d slammed my fist into it. “Because I owe you money. If you kill me, you can’t get it.” He smiled smugly.Fucker.
I laughed. “You got family, Holter? ’Cording to my pres, you got a daughter and a wife.”
Holter froze, his sable eyes widening in fear. From this position I looked down at his scared gaze, and satisfaction sat heavy in my chest. “Don’t touch them.”
“Give me a reason not to. You’re kneeling there throwing smart-ass comments at me. I should just put a bullet in you and then pay your pretty wife a visit. Think I can sell her for a couple of hundred every time a guy has a turn with her?”
He bared his teeth at me and glared. “I told King I’d fucking pay.”
“Really?” I made a show of glancing around the guy’s fancy office. The receptionist even knew to let me in, and from what King had said, more than one of my brothers had visited Holter. “Because I don’t see any money. King told me I was supposed to collect, and then you had the fucking balls to attack me.”
“I thought you were a Demon,” he hissed, tugging nervously at his red-and-white striped tie.
I snorted and patted the patch on my left shoulder. “Does this look like a fucking Demon to you, Holter? No, it’s a fucking King. I’m the royalty around here, and I deserve the fucking respect.”
“I respect you.” He shifted forward on his knees, glancing around me at his door as though he could escape.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I growled out, pressing the muzzle of the gun tighter against his forehead. “You run and we’ll be the last people ever to see you.”
He exhaled deeply through his nose. “I don’t have it.”
I cupped my hand behind my ear and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. What did you say?”
He clenched his jaw and dropped his head, giving me a view of his silvery brown hair, gelled to keep its position. “I have a problem.”
“Yes, yes you do.” I shook my head and waved the gun around haphazardly. “Now here’s my problem, Holter. I have to go back to my president and tell him I don’t have his money. See how this is an issue, buddy? I’m gonna get my ass handed to me. So what should I do about that?”
He raised his eyes to me again and gave me a watery stare. “Please. I’m about to lose my house. My wife and daughter, they need me.”
I shook my head. “You should have thought about that before you bought coke from us.”
“It was for my boss. I needed to get into his good graces, and he likes it.”
Snorting, I held out the palm not holding my Ruger. “Why do I care why you buy it? Simple fact is that you did. Either give me the money, or I go back and tell King you don’t have it and he sends someone a lot scarier than me. Personally, I could kill you, but he’d want to make it hurt. A lot.” I leaned closer to him. “Between me and you? He’s kinda pissed that losers like you think you can buy but not pay up. He’s had too many of your type lately. The guy is generous, but only in good faith, if you know what I mean.”
Holter shuddered and gave me a pleading look. “I swear, I’ll get the money to him. Iswear.”
I massaged my forehead. “Friend, you told him that a month ago. Why do you think I’m here? You’re lucky he didn’t send the messenger. Hound’s crazy. Likes breaking fingers and chopping off dicks. No lie. But lucky for you, he’s on another message for King.”
“Wait. I got money.” Holter shoved himself to his feet, nearly tumbling forward and hitting me. I pushed him backward, and he stumbled to his desk, ripping open the top drawer. The floor-to-ceiling windows gave us a perfect view of the city, tall buildings twinkling like diamonds in the morning sun. These businessmen were all the same, though. They partied, and when they had to pay up, they panicked. I’d dealt with enough of them to hate their scrawny asses.
He waved a thick envelope at me, and I strode forward, tearing it out of his hands. I took the time to count each hundred-dollar bill and frowned at him when I finished. “Is this a joke? This is ten grand. You owe us fifty plus interest.”
“I can get the rest for you.” He wrung his hands together. “I promise. Please.”
I sighed and stared up at the pretty lights embedded into the ceiling, praying for some smart junkies for once. Giving him an annoyed glare, I waved the envelope at him. “By the end of the week, Holter, or your wife will get a visit. Got it?”
He nodded, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand. The cut on his forehead where I’d elbowed him bled more profusely than his nose, though, and he looked like he’d been in a few rounds of Fight Club. The guy couldn’t punch to save his life, even if he did get a few surprise hits in. The boys wouldn’t let me live this down.
I glared at him and touched my aching jaw before I shoved the Ruger into its holster and turned on my heel, storming out of his office. His receptionist went to stand, then sat down again, as though she didn’t know what to do around a biker. I wasn’t her boss’s usual guests. Winking at her as I swept past, I headed straight to the elevator and pulled out my phone, texting King to let him know the job wasn’t fully complete.
He called me as I got out the front door of the building and I accepted it. “Hey, pres.”
