Indebted (2 page)

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Authors: A.R. Hawkins

BOOK: Indebted
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Rolling my eyes, I can’t help but chuckle. “Fuck, Addison! Don’t do that shit. You know Tristan will fuck me up if I cost him quality time with his lady.”

I can hear her laughing in the background. “Oh, how the mighty fall at my feet.”

I wasn’t about to tell her it was more like Tristan’s feet. “What did you want, babe?”

“Well, I was calling to tell you John will be here in about ten minutes. He said something about having an issue you need to deal with.”

Oh, fucking great, that’s just what I need today, when I’m trying to wrap up the end of month. I groan and sit there, trying to figure out what the hell he could want. I hate dealing with the bastard, even if he is my father.

I hear a disgusted grunt coming from the intercom. “Um…. Hello? Are you going to answer me or not?”

Shaking my head to get my shit together, I say, “Yeah, Addison, sorry about that. What did you ask?”

“I said, ‘What do you want me to do when his majesty arrives?’ Roll out the red carpet? Twitter his location to all the people who would like to see him dead? Or, I could tell him you skipped the country with all his precious money….”

I don’t know whether to laugh or take her up on one of her offers, so I choose to laugh. “Don’t tempt me,” I reply. “Just let me know when he gets here and then let him in. Oh, and one more thing… no matter how tempting it is, please don’t sass him. You know I love it, but it gets him all worked up. The sooner he gets in here, the sooner I can get rid of him.”

“Fine, whatever. I’ll let you have all the fun of pissing him off.” Addison sighs heavily before she hangs up.

I stand up, stretch my back, and pop my neck. The whole time, I’m trying to think why he feels the need to address one of my business problems in person. For the life of me, I can’t figure it out.

The sound of the intercom buzzing breaks the silence. “Liam, John is here to see you.”

Sitting down, I take a deep breath and let it out before replying to Addison. “Let him in.”

The doors open and in he strides, looking rather put out. I guess maybe we should have gone with the red carpet. We have many similarities in looks but definitely couldn’t be confused for one another. We are about the same height at 6’6”, but he has a much smaller frame. We do have the same dark wavy hair, brown eyes, and olive skin tone, though. Other than that, we are completely different. John always looks like he’s been sucking on a lemon, while I am known to have a smile on my face more often than not. He is all business, and I try to avoid it as much as possible. Unfortunately, I can tell by the way he’s carrying himself this is clearly going be a shitty visit.

“John, what brings you by?” We long ago gave up the façade of a father-son relationship. He prefers to be called John, and to be honest, I haven’t wanted to call him Dad since he let them beat me all those years ago.

Sitting down with a huff, he says, “As if you don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I knew.” I roll my eyes. “Why don’t you quit playing games and tell me what’s going on?”

John stares me down for a moment before giving in. “Seems like there’s some talk about you not being able to rein in a Mr. Aaron Quinn, Sr. I was sent by Thomas to make sure you weren’t going soft on us.”

I’m completely taken aback by this. As far as I know, the Quinn account is business as usual. The real question for me is who is running their mouth? I undoubtedly will be checking in to that. In the meantime, I need to soothe dickhead’s fears.

“I don’t know how Quinn is different from any other account. I certainly have no soft spot for that slimy bastard.” I sit back and steeple my hands together. “He came in here at the end of last month wanting a loan of ten grand to tide things over. Nothing fancy; he signed the standard contract. In fact, during our chat, he said he would do anything to have his company succeed.” Looking him in the eye, I bite out, “He reminded me of you, in that regard. So, I positively do not have any love for him.”

Jumping to his feet, slamming his hands down on the desk, and getting into my face, John seethes, “You watch your mouth, boy, or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll what?” Not even bothering to get up, I look directly into his eyes, hold myself in an intimidating posture, and let all the hate I feel for him permeate every inch of me. “You think I’m scared of you, old man? I think you keep forgetting I’m not a little boy anymore. You made me this way, and now you’re going to have to deal with it. Now, I suggest you sit your ass down so we can finish this and you can get the hell out of here.”

John staggers back with wide eyes that hold more than a little fear. Swallowing a couple of times and clearing his throat, he reluctantly sits down.

“Now, as I was saying before you had your tantrum—his payment was due two days ago. He called on the due date and asked if he could make arrangements. I, of course, laughed and reminded him this isn’t some damn bank. I told him he had until twelve today, adding a third more interest to this installment for being late. Since it’s only a little after ten, I’m not exactly ready to go on the hunt.”

Nodding, John asks, “Does it seem favorable that he’ll pay?”

I laugh, nodding my head in an affirmative. “Oh, he’ll pay. Either this afternoon as scheduled, or later this evening when we track him down. I’ve made sure he understands if he doesn’t, his business will be the last thing he’ll be worried about. My boys have quite the skill set. I’ve taught most of them myself.”

Standing up and looking deflated, the older man grouses, “Well, it seems as though you have everything under control.” Not looking the least bit contrite, he adds, “Not that I thought otherwise. I guess I’ll head back to the main office.”

He turns to leave and I follow him toward the door. I stop him by putting a hand on his arm. “I want to know, and I want to know now, where this rumor came from so I can deal with it appropriately.”

Rolling his eyes, he says, “I couldn’t even begin to tell you. I was told by Mr. Everson to investigate. As you well know, you don’t question Thomas.”

Jerking his arm away, he makes his way to the door, and I call after him, “Just so you know, and you can inform Mr. Everson of this too, I will be looking into this on my own.”

Not even turning around, he says, “Fine. If you decide to do anything permanent, I suggest you get permission first.”

Watching the doors close, I sit down heavily in my chair.

I wonder if someone is trying to fuck with me, or if the old man is getting bored and trying to stir shit up. It wouldn’t be the first time he put my ass in a sling. I figure it’s worth it to at least have one trusted ear to the ground, and I pick up the phone.

Letting it ring close to ten times, I’m getting ready to hang up when Tristan answers. “Walsh here.”

Tristan’s voice, with his slight southern twang, has a way of calming me and uplifting my mood.

Chuckling, I say, “Damn, old man, took you long enough to answer the phone.”

“Fuck you, Sandoval. Not all of us have cushy office jobs. I happen to be out in the field doing some recon.”

Hearing the humor in his voice, I surmise he isn’t on that serious a job. “Well, good, I’m glad I caught you in that mindset. I have a favor to ask of you—”

He cuts me off. “I’m not fucking you, Sandoval, no matter how much you beg. If you step out of your office occasionally, you’ll see a gorgeous blonde who has her name on my dick—”

I start laughing outright. “Whoa, dude, too much information! I hope for you, and all men who would be cringing at the thought of a tattoo there, you’re speaking figuratively.” Clearing my throat, I try to settle myself down. “Anyway, I had an interesting meeting with Asshole today….”

After I fill him in, he is quiet on the line for a couple of minutes before saying, “You know, Liam, I’m really at a loss here. I can’t think of anyone who would be stupid enough to start a rumor like that—especially not anyone with Thomas’s ear. I’m hoping it’s Dickhead with his panties in a bunch. Just in case, though, I will of course keep my eyes and ears open for you.”

Sighing, disappointed but not surprised, I say, “Thanks man, you’re the best.”

Hanging up, I settle myself down to getting these reports done.

Before I know it, Addison is buzzing me. “Mr. Sandoval, there is an Aaron Quinn here to see you.”

Wow, he showed.

“Yeah, Addison, I was expecting him. Go ahead and send him in.” Moving to cover up some of my paperwork, I hear the door open. I motion to him without even glancing up. “Have a seat, Aaron.”

Once I’m satisfied nothing sensitive is out in the open, I look up and meet the most beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen. I feel like the breath has been knocked right out of me. Well, fuck my life. This absolutely isn’t Aaron Quinn, Sr.

Chapter 2

 

 

A
S
I
step onto the front stoop of my childhood home, I can’t even feel the severe cold.

I barely remembered my coat in my haste to leave. Now that I’m out the door, though, I can’t get my brain to think of where to go. Sitting down heavily on the stairs, I try to catch my breath from the suffocating pressure in my chest. A few minutes pass, and I finally calm down a little. It’s then I feel the frigid wind hitting the tears streaming down my face. I wasn’t aware I was crying until now.

I can’t believe this is happening.

Angrily, I wipe away the tears with the sleeve of my coat, stand up, and start toward my lifeline in a daze. My mind is all over the place as I walk to the greasy spoon where Chloe works. I can’t see any way out; I just can’t. Besides, Dad is depending on me. I’m just going to have to pull myself up by the bootstraps and do this. I have to—but I don’t want to. Just the thought of what I’m going to have to do makes my skin crawl.

I make quick work of the twenty-minute walk to Frappy’s, a small diner popular with the locals, then pace outside, taking in deep breaths. Attempting to make myself presentable, I run my hands nervously through my hair. I don’t know why I bother, though, because when Chloe sees me, she’s going to know something is drastically wrong.

Stepping inside, I find my usual booth in the back corner, out of the way and peer around. I don’t see her anywhere. I’m not quite sure if she’s working today, so I pull out my phone and check the calendar she’d loaded her work schedule on. Yep, six until two, right there. At least I can get something right.

Picking up a menu from the stand, I look at it without seeing. Will Chloe think less of me? Will she be disgusted? How am I going to tell her this? Fidgety, I start picking at the loose laminate on the corner.

I look around at the morning diners, noticing the work crowd has already thinned out. Being that the time is a little after nine, all that is left are stay-at-home parents and the retired folks.

Glancing back down at the now-tortured menu, I notice I’ve managed to pick a fourth of the plastic away from the paper. Holy crap! Thank God I’m not running my hands through my hair like I normally do. I’d have pulled out clumps by now. Not good, not good at all! I decisively set the thing aside and put my hands flat on the table so nothing else will fall victim to Aaron “Nervous Hands” Quinn.

Thankfully, Chloe appears and clunks down into the booth. I watch her out of the corner of my eye while still looking at my traitorous hands. Her expression is critical.

Biting the bullet, I peer up at her and plaster on my best fake smile. “Um… hey, Chloe. How’s your work day been so far?”

I watch her tilt her head slightly and cross her arms in the classic “don’t bullshit me” pose. Yeah, I didn’t think she’d buy that. Glancing back down at my hands, I swallow a couple of times, trying to control the sudden lump in my throat.

She sighs and reaches across the table, putting one of her tiny hands on top of mine. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

It’s all I can do to not start sobbing like a baby.

I look up at her with my eyes brimming with tears, and whimper out, “Not really, but I’m going to have to.” Running a hand through my hair, I pull it hard to get control of myself, and say, “I really need my best friend right now.”

She pats my hand and nods sadly. “Okay, baby, let me go talk to my boss, and I’ll be right out.”

With that, she gets up and heads into the kitchen.

Folding my arms on the table, I lay my head down. I try to think of how I’m going to broach this with her. It’s not like they have Hallmark cards for this kind of shit. All I know is I can’t lose her too. I would never recover.

Chloe has been my best friend since grade school. I remember meeting her like it was yesterday….

It was the first day of first grade at a brand-new school for me. Dad had moved Mom and me to Chicago, in the hopes the job market would open up new possibilities for him. Until then, we had lived in a small town in Wyoming.

Not being the outgoing type, I stayed at my desk when the teacher said we would have recess indoors. I didn’t really focus on anything, just traced the scratches in the desktop with my nail.

All of a sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped slightly and turned around to see this tiny girl with short, dark hair, mischievous brown eyes, and a big smile.

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