Chapter 21
21
Carter
C arter felt like he’d been poisoned.
Not by Bailey. No, he’d done this to himself.
That sick, twisted feeling inside him had only festered and gotten worse. It wouldn’t get any better until he finally settled what he could with his bookie. He stared at the money on his bed. He’d gathered up everything he could think of—from every hiding place he had. He had nothing left to sell, either. His truck was so old he wouldn’t get any money even if he tried to sell it. If he barely spent anything on Bailey and Anya, then he had just over seven thousand. He was about three grand short.
Knowing Dirk, it wouldn’t be enough. Getting the guy to forgive any amount was like trying to squeeze blood out of a stone.
Carter dragged a hand through his mussed hair and settled on the edge of the bed. The deadline was in a couple weeks. If he was lucky, he might be able to make it up with his next couple of paychecks, but he couldn’t be positive. His best course of action would be to appeal to the man and plead his case.
If he could just get this debt taken care of, he’d have a shot at starting over. And he could do it with Bailey.
He’d keep the promise he’d made her when he said he wouldn’t return to that life. He didn’t want to steal or gamble away his life. Bailey’s love gave him purpose. The way Anya looked at him like he was a superhero made him want to become that very thing just for her.
A groan rumbled from his chest.
The chances were slim that he’d be able to grasp onto half of what he wanted, and he had the sinking suspicion that Bailey and her kid were going to be the very things he lost. His stomach churned with the acknowledgment of reality.
It wouldn’t matter how many hours he worked for his brother. Nor would it matter if he got a second job this close to the deadline. And he didn’t own anything worth selling, including his old truck. The fact was, he’d probably failed.
His hands gripped the comforter at his side. The part of him that wanted to give up had gone into hibernation, replaced by a side of him he hadn’t seen in a long while. He couldn’t just sit aside and let Dirk rule his life. He had to try.
With a sweep of his arms, he gathered the money and shoved it into a backpack that had been sitting next to the money on the bed. Then he dropped the bag on the floor and stared up at the ceiling above. Hands behind his head, he contemplated what Bailey might do if she knew the true extent of what he was dealing with.
She’d kick him out. And he wouldn’t even be able to blame her. She’d set out the rules for him to follow, and he’d sworn he would. She probably wouldn’t forgive him either. Even though he intended on going down fighting, he couldn’t shake the feeling that was exactly what the outcome would be.
Carter winced.
Would Dirk send his cronies here to hurt Bailey and Anya? He prayed not. They deserved the moon. They deserved safety and not to have to deal with a broken man such as himself. Carter heaved a sigh. He turned his head to the wall that separated Bailey’s room from his own. Soft voices filtered through the drywall. He couldn’t hear what Bailey and Anya were talking about—probably Christmas.
His heart sank even further into his stomach. He’d been ready to spend a great deal to give that little girl the Christmas she wanted. Thankfully, he’d already purchased the ice skates. If nothing else, she’d have a gift from the big man himself—whether or not Carter was here to celebrate the holiday with them.
The look on Bailey’s face when he’d told her that he was turning in early tonight had broken his heart. They’d had that long conversation. They’d gone over her expectations. And all he could do was make empty promises before retreating to his room.
A scowl tightened his facial muscles. He was no better than her late husband. If he’d been a better man, he might have told her everything right then and there. He would have pleaded for her to forgive him, and then he would have asked her if she knew what he could do—to see the problem from another angle.
Except a better man wouldn’t have even been in this situation in the first place. He couldn’t tell her anything because then he risked everything.
Tomorrow he’d drive to the city and have a meeting with Dirk. He’d sit the guy down and explain what was going to happen. Or he’d get on his knees and plead with the man to accept what he could give. Either way, this would all come to a head.
And afterward, Carter would have a better idea of how his relationship with Bailey would play out. His eyes closed, and he allowed himself to drift off to the soft sounds of Bailey and her daughter next door.
Carter’s legs bounced, jerking this way and that as he sat perched on the edge of the metal folding chair right outside the large room where Dirk was taking his meetings. The backpack with the money was still on Carter’s back, even after one of Dirk’s men pawed his way through it.
Back home, Bailey was probably just starting supper. Anya would be seated at the table or in the living room, drawing pictures. Lately her obsession was drawing the three members of her household on an ice-skating rink.
That thought brought a grin to his face despite the fact that he wasn’t ready for her to grow so attached to him. He didn’t want her getting hurt—especially if it got to the point where Bailey wanted to kick him out.
His hand tightened on the backpack strap over his shoulder. He couldn’t think about any of that right now. He needed to keep his wits about him so he would be able to appeal to Dirk in the best way possible.
Carter took in a deep, unsettled breath and blew it out through pursed lips. He glanced toward the closed double doors. The muffled voices didn’t sound angry, but that wasn’t saying much. Dirk was a master of control. Not even his face turned red when he was feeling murderous.
Foolish.
That’s what Carter had continued to call himself every few minutes as he waited for the bookie to emerge. He’d told himself the guy wasn’t as scary as a loan shark, but part of him wondered if Dirk had dipped his fingers in that career as well.
The door burst open moments later and a scrawny guy with glasses scurried out of the room. One of Dirk’s henchmen stood in the doorway, arms folded like he belonged at a club as a bouncer and not between the people who owed Dirk money and the big man himself. The bouncer waved Carter over, and Carter released another nervous breath.
He flashed a smile to the man, then hurried forward before he became the next casualty. Dirk wasn’t above killing people. There was no proof, of course, but Carter knew better. As did most of the people who had dealings with the guy.
Dirk was seated behind an ostentatious desk that made the man look smaller than he really was. It wasn’t the best choice in furniture, especially when the man wanted to intimidate those who entered through the double doors at Carter’s back.
The man could make Danny DeVito look like Prince Charming. He was short, balding, and he had a crooked nose. Despite only being in his late forties, the guy gave the feeling he’d emerged from the depths of Hell himself after vacationing there for a year. His soulless beady eyes practically sucked the life out of anyone who dared look into them too long.
Yep. Carter had been incredibly foolish to come to Dirk in the first place. If he could go back in time, Carter would kick himself in the backside and tell himself to put his tail between his legs and go home before he caused more trouble.
Too bad he hadn’t known a woman like Bailey existed.
Dirk curled his finger at Carter, beckoning him forward. When he lifted his gaze, a slow, sinister smirk crossed his face. “Keagan, wasn’t it? You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you to show up until the new year. Do you have my money?”
Carter’s cheek twitched. The weight of his backpack felt light, as if his back knew he didn’t have nearly enough. With each step he took to get closer to the man, his heart thrummed with even more nervous energy.
The bookie sneered at him. It was only one of a few expressions the man had. “Well? Speak up, boy.”
Carter stopped several feet before the desk, suddenly realizing how much of a mistake he’d made in coming here. Christmas was right around the corner. Being here, drawing unneeded attention to himself and those he cared about, had been a big mistake—one that would cost him.
His jaw tightened, and he slipped the pack to his arms. “I came to make a deal.”
The man had the decency to appear shocked. His eyes bugged out, but only for a moment. Then his face split into a wicked grin and a sickening bark of laughter echoed throughout the large, empty space.
Several of Dirk’s associates chuckled softly, but Carter couldn’t tell if they found the situation amusing or if they were simply laughing because Dirk was.
Swallowing back the discomfort, Carter took a step toward Dirk. “I have most of it.”
The laughter cut off all at once, leaving an eerie silence in the room. Dirk lifted a brow, then he clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Keagan, you know better than that. I recall the conversation we’d had the final time you came to me with your bet. I expect payment in full.”
Carter shook the bag in front of the man. “I’ve got seven grand. That’s more than half.”
Dirk’s mouth curled into a disturbing frown. “You came here to tell me that you couldn’t come up with an additional three thousand dollars?” He rose slowly from his seat and placed his palms on the desk. The way he leaned against the desk might have been comical if it weren’t for the fire pouring from his gaze.
“I was thinking you could take this for now and give me a little more time for the rest…” There was no hiding the desperation from his throat.
The man slammed a fist down on the desk. The whole room seemed to hold its breath. Dirk’s eyes turned murderous for only a moment before returning to normal. He rubbed his palms together. “I don’t do favors. And if I let you walk in here—short—then I’d have to do that for everyone.” His eyes lifted to Carter, who had to stifle a shiver that spider-walked down his spine. “You will have my money by the beginning of January, or you’ll suffer the consequences.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “I can’t wait until I get to meet that young lady you seem so infatuated with.”
Blood running cold, Carter gripped the bag in his fists even tighter. “She doesn’t mean anything to me.”
Dirk clicked his tongue one more time. “I have sources that say otherwise.”
Sources who had been stalking Bailey and Anya the night of the tree-lighting ceremony. Carter’s blood flashed hot and full of fury, but he had the good sense to keep his mouth shut. The guy must still be hanging around Copper Creek—keeping an eye on him. Maybe he’d be willing to take a bribe. Most guys could be bought.
His eyes dipped to the bag, and he clenched his jaw tighter. There had to be another way. He needed to keep Bailey safe. He needed to get Dirk to focus on only him.
It wasn’t until he was parked out front of his favorite coffee shop back in town that he could finally breathe again. Dirk had kicked him out without taking a single dollar from him. He’d insisted on having all of it at once—something about not being a bank.
Carter stared at the bag in the front seat. He’d been so close. So close to finding happiness with Bailey and putting this mess in his rearview.
A cheerful Christmas song played on his old truck’s radio, but Carter didn’t glean any joy from it. His heart felt like a lump of coal, his desperation easily siphoning any bliss he might have had only days ago.
When he looked up, he found Dirk’s guy leaning against a lamp post. It had taken some effort to find the guy’s number, but he’d managed. They stared each other down through the window. Then Carter heaved a sigh and gathered several hundred dollars into an envelope. It might be a foolhardy plan to try bribing the guy who worked for Dirk. But what other choice did he have? Things couldn’t get any worse than they were right now.