Page 18 of Hard Bargain

Just do the job and get out.

The man near the bathroom was older, maybe mid-fifties. Thick through the shoulders, heavy in a way that suggested he didn’t need to move fast to be dangerous. He leaned against the wall like he’d been there for hours.

Knox slowed before approaching, just long enough for the adrenaline to burn away the nerves and leave resolve behind.

The man’s gaze moved over him. “You’re new.”

Knox forced a casual shrug, ignoring the sweat gathering in his palms. “You got something for me?”

A beat passed. Then the guy reached into his jacket and handed him an envelope, small and unremarkable, but somehow heavy in Knox’s palm.

“You know where to go?” the man asked.

“Yeah,” Knox said. The lie came easily, even though he still needed to check his phone for the address the moment he stepped outside.

The man said nothing else as Knox slipped the envelope inside his pocket. He was aware of how exposed he was, how visible. It prickled along his skin, but he held it together, gave a short nod, and turned away before the moment stretched too long.

He cut back through the crowd, pulse climbing, every sense dialed too high. It wasn’t just nerves but a bright, dangerous energy—an aliveness he’d almost forgotten.

He’d spent so long existing in survival mode: working, sleeping badly, dealing with his mother, repeating the same narrow cycle until numbness became normal.

This was different. This felt like standing too close to the edge and realizing he wanted to lean in. If he was honest with himself, the only time he had felt anything remotely similar had been in Dominic’s presence.

That thought alone should have concerned him more than it did.

He pushed through the side exit and stepped into the night. Cool air hit his skin. He stopped beneath the awning, pulling out his phone to check the address Dominic had sent.

Two miles. Close enough to walk.

He set off, shoes echoing on the pavement, the envelope pressed tight against his ribs. The further he got from the casino, the quieter the city became. The bright noise gave way to empty sidewalks and stretches of shadow, leaving far too much room for his thoughts to catch up.

The house sat near the end of a tired row of homes, its paint peeling, and a porch light flickering weakly overhead like it couldn’t decide whether to stay on.

He stopped at the bottom of the steps. This is a mistake. The thought made his stomach turn in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. He didn’t belong here. Didn’t belong in any of this. He could still walk away, turn around, pretend he never came—

But the thought dissolved almost as quickly as it formed. That was no longer true. That version of his life had ended the moment Dominic had spotted him in that alley.

Knox dragged in a breath that failed to fill his lungs properly and climbed the porch steps, each board creaking under his weight. When he knocked, his knuckles felt stiff with tension.

A few seconds later, the door cracked open. A man filled the frame, broad enough to block most of the light behind him. His expression was wary, suspicion settling into every line of his face before a word had even been exchanged. Another figure lingered deeper inside, half-hidden in shadow. Neither of them looked like men who welcomed unexpected visitors.

“Yeah?” the larger man asked.

Knox swallowed, forcing his voice to remain steady. “I’ve got a delivery.”

The man’s eyes dropped briefly to the envelope pinched between Knox’s fingers, then returned to his face. “From who?”

“Dominic Rivera.”

The expression on the man’s face didn’t soften, but he stepped back just enough to clear the doorway. “Get in.”

The door suddenly felt less like an invitation and more like a trap waiting to spring shut behind him. Every instinct told him not to do this, not to walk willingly into a stranger’s house carrying God knew what for a man who had already proven he was capable of murder.

But then another thought pushed through the panic. If Dominic wanted him dead, he could have handled that himself. That meant stepping through this door was dangerous, but probably not fatal.

The thought settled him enough to make himself step over the threshold. The door slammed shut behind him with enough force to make him flinch. The air inside was stale, carrying the smell of fried food and old beer.

Only then did the second man move, circling past Knox before settling near the door in a posture that looked casual until Knox realized what he’d done.