“I’m sure this seems like overkill for such a small amount,” Blake went on. “But Mr Smith handles all debts from shifters this way, regardless of the amount owed.” How many debts from shifters did he have? “He likes to keep it away from everything else. Just in case.”
Just in case it went bad and a shifter tried to kill them? Yeah, that might be bad for business, but Aaron didn’t think that was the reason. More likely it was easier to kill them and dispose of the body this way. Fewer witnesses.
Aware he was letting his imagination run riot, Aaron fidgeted in his seat until a hand on his shoulder steadied him. Again Archer’s touch was soothing, but Aaron didn’t like how quickly he’d come to see it that way.
“You got the money?” A different voice this time.
Aaron frowned for a second, trying to place it, then glanced at Archer and said, “West.” Archer scribbled it down alongside his other notes, smiling when Aaron pointed at the speaker and added, “Wanker.”
West was an arsehole. Always gave Aaron lip and watched him in a way that made Aaron uneasy, like he suspected what Aaron was. But West also came off as an idiot—if he thought Aaron was a shifter, he’d have blabbed to his boss before now, not kept quiet for his own nefarious purpose.
“Yeah,” Harry answered. A rustling sounded, probably Harry pulling the money out of his pocket. Then silence.
Aaron pictured him handing it over and one of the others counting it.
“It’s all there,” West said. Even his voice grated on Aaron’s nerves. He clenched and unclenched his hands, claws itching to slide out.
“Right.” Blake again. “That’s your debt paid, Nash. Since you paid on time, Mr Smith’ll be happy to extend a line of credit to you whenever necessary. And not just for betting on the boxing.”
“How nice of him,” Aaron couldn’t help but mutter.
“Yep,” Archer said, “he’s a selfless kind of guy.”
“Thanks,” Harry answered Blake, “but I won’t be needing it again.”
“That’s what they all say.” The amusement was clear in Blake’s voice. “Have a good evening, Nash. See you soon.”
The shuffle of footsteps sounded.
“Fuck,” Frank hissed. “He needs to ask about membership.”
Aaron held his breath. Harry wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t forget.
“There’s another thing I wanted to ask about,” Harry said, and the footsteps stopped.
“Make it quick.”
“I want to become a member.”
“Do you now?” Blake sounded wary, and Aaron tensed. “It’ll cost you.”
“I know how much it is.”
“Fair enough. I can’t do it now, we need some details from you, and I don’t want to hang around here any longer tonight. Besides, I’ll need to check with the Boss. Bring your money to the fight next week. Come with Rob, and we’ll sort it there.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me, Nash. I’m not doing you any favours.”
Silence.
Then Harry’s huge sigh of relief indicated they’d gone or he’d walked away at least. “It’s done,” he said, for their benefit. “They disappeared around the corner and we just heard a car drive away. I only recognised one of them. Not sure of his name, though. He’s usually on the door when I get there with Rob. Miserable bastard. Always greets you with a scowl when he takes your money.”
Aaron relaxed into his seat. Harry sounded a lot more like his usual self now that it was all done and out of the way.
“Right,” he carried on. “Just about to meet up with the two from Isaac’s unit.”
“Ourunit,” Isaac corrected in the background, making Aaron smile at the reminder.
