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“Sure! I have some meetings about this piece I’m writing, but I should be able to answer your call.” We say our goodbyes and hang up, and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, straightening my arms out.
Carrie is right. Before I know it, I'll be over Mike. All I need is some ice cream and heartbreaking movies.
I hit the back door of my car with my hip while hoisting my paper bag full of snacks that I ran to get my myself right after the call with Carrie. Her advice was more helpful than expected; even going shopping for junk food I don't usually eat was exhilarating. It took my mind off my heartbreak for a while.
“I need to find a gut-wrenching movie to watch,” I say to myself as I take the steps towards my house. “Maybe Marley and Me. That’s always a tear-jerker. Hell, I might even go hard and order some Chinese takeout. There is nothing better than grease to ease the pain.”
I stop at the entrance and poise my key, only to pause. The door is ajar, and irritation courses through my veins. Damn, Liam, leaving the fucking door open now! What a lazy bum! I grimace and grab the curved brass handle, pushing open the barrier and kicking it closed behind me. When I look over, the television is on, but Liam is nowhere to be found. I walk over to the sofa and grab the remote to lower the volume.
My attention is drawn to the reality drag racing show that Liam watches religiously. As I stare at the television, I am filled with dread. He refused to get up during the show, even during commercials.
And the door was open...
As I slowly exit the living room, alarm bells go off in my head. I take my phone from my purse and turn to leave, only to be stopped by a strange man who is blocking the front door. Goosebumps cover my arms and chest, tensing them. My mind wanders, the blood draining from my face as critical, moss green eyes scrutinize me. His chiseled jaw moves slowly, framing a tanned, long face etched with seriousness.
“Don’t... even think about it,” The man growls, and my heart leaps into my throat. “Put the phone down.”
My palms grow cold and sweaty as I slowly bend down, not taking my gaze away from the man, to place my phone on the floor. I clench my jaw as the silence drums in my ears. This man is no ordinary burglar. Without a doubt. Otherwise, why is he still here, and why has nothing been touched?
“You know who I am?” He asks, and I shake my head mutely. His grave face morphs curiously as he arches a brow. Through his trimmed stubble, his slight smirk is extremely apparent. This man... isn’t trying to hide anything. “You’re not going to try to run?”
“You’d catch me,” I answer, my voice unstable, and I grimace at the satisfied glint in the man’s eyes. “Would it make you feel better if I did?”
“What a strange question. If anything, I should be asking you that, Heather,” He says, and I suck in a sharp breath. Although, part of me knows I shouldn’t be surprised. The way he’s just in my house, he must know more about me than I do about him. “Would it make you feel better if you tried to run? Making an effort to escape? Maybe you could do it….”
“You know my name, probably where I work and the places I hang out,” I reply pointedly. The sensation of surrealism washes over me; I’m having such a civil conversation with someone who broke into my house? For real? I shake my head. “What do you want? Why’re you here?”
“My name is Jack Murphy, and I’ve wanted to meet you for a while,” he says calmly and my stomach clenches in fear. I fucking knew it! Jack Murphy, Jack Murphy... I can't help but think I've heard that name somewhere before. “As for what I want... you, Heather. I want you.”
I shivered as I hear his name. I’d heard rumors and they weren’t all that innocent. I have never been one to listen to gossip, but if they were true, then this guy was a known mobster and that was definitely something I didn’t want to know for myself.I can’t let him see my worries thought.“Well, unfortunately for you, I’m off the market.” I snap, crossing my arms defensively over my chest.
Jack saunters toward me with a cocky grin on his face. Backing up, I can only get so far before my legs collide with the sofa table behind me. He reaches out a hand, and I hold my breath as he quickly grabs my shoulder and pushes me onto the couch. Even though his touch is feather soft, I can feel the heat of his palm through my shirt as I look up at him in a daze.
“Have a seat. We need to chat,” Jack's declaration swirls around me as I shuffle to the far end of the sofa, the furthest I can get from him. He perches on the coffee table, clasping his hands on his knees and resting his chin on his fingers. His eyes bore into mine, searching, and he frowns.
“You moved here with your father after your mother died, yes? “Did you know about his exorbitant gambling addiction?” he inquired.
Gambling addiction? Pulling my knees up to my chin, I shake my head even as memories beat against the backs of my eyes.That makes sense...
“My dad?” I ask. Jack nods, tilting his brows at me expectantly. My mouth dries as I try to think. “Uh, uh... he was a lawyer, and just— judging by what he left me in his will, not a very good one. Even this house... it was my grandmother’s— his mother’s. This gambling addiction of his…How exorbitant are we talking about?”
“Do you know how much he owes me? A quarter million dollars.” Jack replies.
"Oh, God!" I squawk in shock, quickly covering my mouth and nose. My eyes flutter in surprise, slightly watering, but Jack simply stares at me evenly. Panic floods my system, causing my mind to race at a breakneck pace. "Are— are these legal loans? Or is it more of an IOU situation? I don’t have that kind of money, and if you’re some kind of shady, illicit loan shark—”
My words dry on my tongue when Jack throws back his head and laughs. Genuine merriment spills from his mouth, his smile wide and the sides of his eyes crinkling as they lock on me. I blink quickly, tightening my grip on my knees.
“Oh, you can’t be serious, Heather,” Jack chuckles, waving his hand in dismissal. “Of course, that doesn’t matter. I’m shocked by what your mind went to. I am decidedly a shady, illicit loan shark. With your father dead, the unfortunate situation has fallen on your shoulders.”
“What if I tell you to fuck off?” I ask cautiously, and Jack’s grin widens. He'd have a beautiful smile if he wasn't so creepy. I nervously lick my lips, and his gaze darts down briefly. “W— what if I just run away and go into hiding? Or kill me?”
“At least hear me out before you get all desperate, Heather,” Jack chides in a soft, almost soothing tone. I gulp harshly as his voice prickles up my arms and shins. He takes a deep breath and raises two fingers. “You have two options here. I can use you until I feel you’ve repaid his debt.”
Jack pauses when my phone starts vibrating loudly against the hardwood. He waits, allowing his first option to sink into my bones. I can't believe what he's saying. He'd pimp me out? I had no idea how I was going to make a quarter million dollars like that! He nods and draws my attention when my phone stops.
“Or, you can, more or less, willingly work for me.” Jack concludes. The silence pierces my ears, and each option he presents me with races through my brain. He's threatening to force me into prostitution if I don't accept being at his beck and call? Those are both dreadful options!
But, then again, they're supposed to be bad. The one Jack prefers is simply less bad.
