He flinches away from me and nods. "Yes. Yes, I understand."
"You know I like you, Lawrence," I say, stepping back and twisting my neck to one side and then the other, a flurry of pops releasing the tension in my upper back. "But I don't often mix business and pleasure. If you fuck me over, I'll fuck you up. No second chances."
Lawrence pinches his mouth together and nods. "I understand."
I take another step backwards and shrug. "I just killed my best friend yesterday. So, if you somehow think you can sweet-talk your way out of this, I'd urge you to reconsider. Get the money. Hand it over. Make it easy on yourself."
His eyes flare when he hears my confession, and he looks around at my men. I see recognition flood his face. Sevastian isn't here with me. He isn't standing behind me like he usually is.
"He must have done something horrible," Lawrence says.
"He made his choice."
Lawrence looks up at me, his brown eyes wide and glassy. They crinkle in a sad smile. "We all make choices."
Me. He's talking about me.
I made a choice, and Lawrence doesn't agree with it.
But Lawrence doesn't know shit.
The anger that has been building inside of me since last night, the anger that I've kept quietly contained, breaks its mold for a second, flashing out. Before I can think about it, I've reared back and hurled a fist into Lawrence's stomach.
At the last second, I pull the punch slightly, but the force of it is still enough to make Lawrence groan and double over.
My men press forward, ready to act the second Lawrence tries to fight, but he just stumbles back and grips at the counter to keep standing.
I flex my fingers and am about to turn to leave when a flash of shadow catches my attention. I don't even have time to recognize what it is before I hear a high-pitched scream and then a person is on top of me.
Hands scratch at my face and chest, and I wobble, trying to find my balance with this new weight affixed to my side.
"Courtney!" Lawrence yells.
Suddenly, I remember Lawrence has a daughter. I've never seen her before, but he has mentioned her briefly. Never by name or anything identifying, just enough that I know she exists.
I suspect the woman pounding her fists against my chest is her. She's too small to be much of a threat to me with just her bare hands.
I grab for her flailing limbs, trying to peel her off me. My men are so surprised by her sudden appearance that it takes them a few seconds to recognize what's happening and step in to help. When they do, they manage to extract her from me easily, grabbing her arms and legs and pulling her back.
Her black hair is hanging over her face, wild and frizzy, and her chest is heaving from exertion.
"Courtney," Lawrence sobs, his first genuine show of emotion. "Please, let her go."
I hold up a hand to silence Lawrence and then direct my men to release her. They do it at once.
Courtney yanks her arms to her sides and then flips her hair back with an annoyed huff.
Now that I can see her face, I see the rage written there. Her top lip is pulled back in a snarl, her eyes narrowed and focused directly on me.
Still, even as angry as she is, she is beautiful.
I wouldn't have guessed she was Lawrence's daughter. He's pale and round, whereas Courtney has beautiful brown skin and a tight, lithe body. Her nose is pert and, presently, wrinkled in distaste.
"You son of a bitch," she spits, stomping forward like she's going to attack me again.
My men follow her movements, but she doesn't touch me.
I know I should be angry. Annoyed, even.
But I can't find it within me. I'm simply curious.
"Were you trying to attack me?" I ask.
Her eyes narrow further. "Only because you attacked my father."
"One punch," I say, holding up a finger. "That hardly constitutes an attack."
"He's a hardworking man, and you are a fucking leech."
"Courtney, baby," Lawrence warns. "I'm okay. I'm fine."
I wave another hand to silence him. It's hard to believe such a strong-willed woman could come from such a docile man.
"Don't speak again until I give the okay," I bark over my shoulder to him. "I'd like to have a word with your daughter."
I hear Lawrence's breathing pick up. My fists didn't scare him. But my merely looking at his daughter has him terrified.
"He isn't your slave," Courtney snaps. "He can do whatever he likes."
"True," I admit. "And so can you. Unfortunately, whatever you do, I'll take out on him."
Her eyes widen. I can see the words burning at the end of her tongue, but she doesn't speak them. She bites them back.
Good girl.
I walk towards her, enjoying the way she stiffens with every step. Just before we're chest to chest, I turn and walk around her, admiring every inch.
She has on a pair of tight jeans that hug her curves and a V-neck sweater that shows off her impressive cleavage. Her body is soft and tight in all the right places.
"Find the woman a seat," I say to Rurik, my eyes not leaving the girl. He nods and grabs a stool from the corner. He places it behind Courtney, but it isn't until I push on her shoulder that she sits down.
I pace the floor, drumming my fingers together. "This is an interesting turn of events."
"Please," Lawrence whispers.
I spin towards him, nostrils flared. "I told you not to speak."
He closes his eyes.
I begin my pacing again. "Lawrence owes me money. Did you hear that part, Courtney?" I ask, turning towards her. "I assume you've been eavesdropping for a while. You know what this is about?"
"I know what it's about," she says through gritted teeth. "It's about you compensating for your small penis."
I should slap her across the face, but instead I bark out a laugh.
My response surprises me more than anyone, but Courtney's eyebrow arches upwards.
"Your father and I had just reached an understanding," I continue. "Twenty-four hours for him to come up with the five thousand dollars he owes me this month."
"This month?" Courtney asks, turning her attention to her father. "Dad, why didn't you tell me?"
Lawrence inhales to say something, but I spin around and shake my head. He closes his mouth and stares down at the floor.
"That's too much," Courtney says. "It isn't fair."
"Fair doesn't exist in the real world."
She rolls her eyes. "God, you are a cliché."
I find Courtney intriguing in the best way, but I also can't go on letting her think she can say whatever she wants without consequence. I take a deep breath and then spin around, pummeling my fist into Lawrence's stomach. For a second time, I pull the punch, but the force is enough to surprise him.
Courtney yelps. "Jesus, stop! I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
When I turn around, her eyes are wide and glassy, and she looks like a doll. Her skin is smooth and perfect and her hair is shiny and falling around her shoulders in messy waves. She is a picture, and I want to study her further.
"Are you, though?" I ask, balling my hand into a fist.
She nods frantically. "I'm. I'm sorry."
I turn towards Lawrence, but he isn't looking at me. He's looking over my shoulder at his daughter, shaking his head.
She is what Lawrence cares about. She's the reason he always paid on time and treated me with respect. Not because he actually respects me, but because he loves her.
And he'll do anything to keep her safe.
"This stop has taken longer than I planned, and now I'm not so sure I want to come back here tomorrow night to do it all over again." I frown. "And since we never got a chance to shake on it, our deal wasn't finalized."
"You rat," Courtney says behind me.
I ignore her. "I believe we should resolve this now. In my experience, once someone gets behind on one payment, they continually come up short on the next, and the next. It is a slippery slope."
"I can get the money-" Lawrence starts.
"Still not okay for you to talk," I growl.
