19. Chance
19
CHANCE
I tromped into Nolan’s office with my shoulders slumped, feigning dejection and disgust. I’d never been much of an actor, but I had plenty of motivation to get into the role of beaten, loser thug.
“Chance,” Nolan beamed, dropping a legal-sized file onto his desk. “How did it go?”
Shuffling to the desk, I held up a set of papers. “It could’ve gone a lot better. Travis knocked Brick out.” I rattled the wrinkled documents. “I dropped him off at the ER. These are the intake papers. He’s probably got a concussion or something.”
Nolan’s eyes narrowed onto my hands. “Is that the only thing you brought back?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I hope you have a good insurance plan?—”
“Where is my money?” Nolan stood and tossed his fancy pen down, all traces of his earlier smile now gone.
I shuffled my feet, adding a gulp to sell it. “I, uh, didn’t get the money.”
“I see.” Nolan stared at the surface of the desk for a full minute. Rounding the massive furniture, he sauntered closer to me. “You take out two of my men with no problem, but you can’t handle one guy, even with backup?”
“I didn’t think you’d want Brick dying?—”
“I don’t give a damn about Brick,” Nolan thundered, his skin flushing red. “He can be replaced.” The loan shark inhaled and seemed to count in his head or some other Zen exercise. “Maybe I haven’t properly motivated you.”
Papers crinkled in my tightening fists. “I don’t need motivation.”
“Excellent.” Nolan pointed to the door. “I’ll give you one more shot to collect what Travis owes. Ms. Loomis may have slipped my men earlier, but it won’t be hard to draw her out by capturing her roommate.” His gaze bore into me. “Since you’re not understanding, maybe you’ll grasp this. Once I have them, I’ll sell the roommate to the highest bidder, and give Ms. Loomis back to you one piece at a time. Is that clear?”
I swallowed again. This time, I didn’t need to call on any acting skills. Nolan wouldn’t know that my trembling wasn’t fear, but rage. “It’s clear,” I said once I’d forced my teeth to unclench, “but you don’t really have connections in human trafficking, right? You wouldn’t really kill Mandy either, would you? I mean, I get that you want to make sure I have an incentive, but that seems extreme. You’re a businessman, not some killer.”
“Chance,” Nolan chided, shaking his head. “You’re not that na?ve. Being a businessman means I have friends in all kinds of low places.” His green eyes sharpened. “I kill people who step out of line. I order their loved ones’ deaths by way of motivation.”
“Like that story I heard in the news?” I asked. “What was his name…? He had a mob moniker.” I pretended to grapple with my memory. “Pinhead…no, Pencil. No, wait—that’s not right either.”
“Pauly Pincher,” Nolan supplied, referring to the man who enjoyed dismembering his victims with long-nosed pliers. He was listed as a suspected associate of Nolan’s. “Yeah. I’ve worked with him. He’s my cousin’s man. Does some work for me if my guys are tied up. He’s a bit messy for my tastes. I prefer a cleaner death.”
“I agree.” I forced my muscles to relax and leaned forward in a confidential pose. “A gun’s too impersonal and a knife can have you soaked in seconds if you do it wrong. But a garrote.” I smiled wide as if picturing the device. “That’ll challenge your will to kill your target against the victim’s will to live.”
Nolan’s face lit up. “Exactly. I feel the same way!”
Bastard. One of the victims on Agent Butler’s list had been killed that way. I worked hard not to show the disgust on my face.
“I had this one woman,” the loan shark continued, without me having to prompt him. “Sheila Myers.” His expression turned dreamy, making me sick. “She was a fighter.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I had to punch her twice to get her to stop flopping around so I could finish the job.”
And with that, I had the golden ticket. I had everything I needed and a cherry on top. This asshole was going away for life.
“I’ll head back to Travis’s tonight.” I edged toward the door, unable to stomach another second with this miserable excuse for a man. “I bet he won’t be expecting a second visit so soon. I’ll get your money.”
“You’d better.” Nolan lost his smile. “Ms. Loomis’s life depends on you.”
A loud crash echoed beyond the sheer-curtained windows.
Nolan snatched the black phone on the desk up and punched a button. After a few seconds, he slammed it back down. “How hard is it to answer the phone?”
“I wouldn’t think it’d be too hard.” I took another step.
Knock. Knock. Knock. I opened the door before Nolan could say a word. Three FBI agents in full body armor poured into the room, aiming AR-15s at the loan shark.
“Nolan Nickel,” Agent Butler shouted, “you’re under arrest.”
I was turning to leave when I heard a creak. Whirling, I yanked the knife out of the sheath strapped to my forearm. I flung it almost reflexively, nailing the thug sneaking in through a hidden passage in the side wall. The knife buried itself in the joint of his shoulder, and the rifle he’d been toting dropped to the floor.
One of the FBI agents broke away and ran to the newly revealed door. “Come out,” he yelled. “Hands on your heads.”
Two men complied and lay on the hardwood floors on their stomachs. I studied the rest of the room, but nothing else moved.
Another unit of FBI agents swarmed into the office with their weapons up, searching for threats.
Seeing they had everything covered, I strolled through the mansion’s first floor and out the front door. More agents were milling around outside, but I didn’t care about them. All I needed was Mandy, the love of my life. Was she here? I couldn’t see her.
“Hey, Chance,” Mark Butler called out, walking Nolan outside by his cuffed wrists. “You looking for a job?”
A small group of agents moved, revealing Mandy striding up the walkway. I exhaled, my relief at seeing her healthy and whole hitting me hard.
“I’ve already got one,” I answered, locking eyes with my future. “I don’t have plans to leave it. Ever.”