Page 117 of The Obvious Check
Without breaking eye contact, he slides the envelope across the bar toward Cal. “Count it.”
My pulse hammers in my throat as the guy opens it and flips through the crisp bills.
This is it.
This has to be it.
“Can confirm. It’s 10k, boss.”
Luke doesn’t react right away. He just picks up his rag and goes back to cleaning a glass as if I haven’t just handed him more money than I’ve ever seen in my life.
My stomach churns as the silence stretches.
Finally, he nods. “Good. That makes a little dent in your debt.”
My breath catches.A dent?
“The only way you’re going to be able to pay it off completely,” he continues smoothly, “is by doing a stint behind one of my doors for the next two months.”
“T-two months?”
The room tilts. My throat locks up.
No. No. No.
That should be enough.
“Luke,” I say, hating the tremor in my voice. “That’s ten grand.”
He lifts a brow. “And?”
“That more than covers what I owe you.”
He shrugs. “Cute. But no. You owe me more than that.”
More. More. More.
He’ll always take if I keep giving.
“No,” I say, my voice sharper, faking the confidence I need to have to get through this. “I don’t. I’m done.”
I turn on my heel, already tasting the freedom and thinking about the life Cade and I will build together.
It all stops when Mark steps in front of me. All bulk and zero soul, he’s standing in front of the door like a brick wall, making it impossible for me to see the outside. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to, because suddenly, I remember exactly who I’m dealing with.
Luke barks out a laugh. “Did you really think you could just walk out of here after dropping off a tiny portion of your debt?”He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Sorry, sweetheart. That’s not how this works.”
I close my eyes, doing the same thing I always did when I was on that stage. I imagine Cade. His strength. His promises. His resilience. I’m getting out of here this time, and nothing is going to stop me.
“I’m done, Luke.”
I glance at him over my shoulder, and he’s rounded the bar, his hand on one of the barstools with his head tilted.
“I’m not staying.” I turn to face him fully now, my heart hammering and my hands shaking, but I hold steady. “You can try to force me. Threaten me. Hell, break me if you want.” My voice hardens. “But there’s nothing left to take. You already stole everything.”
“Not everything.”
The silence thickens as he watches me, daring me to speak.
