Chapter 60
CHAPTER
SIXTY
LOOT
ONE WEEK LATER
“I can’t believe I’m going to shake down someone for a gambling debt,” I state.
There is a moment of silence before Speed chuckles. “No shit. I guess it was bound to happen, considering we live near Vegas, but gotta say, I’m disappointed we aren’t the ones keeping it all.”
“You wanna go into the loan business?” I ask.
He shrugs a shoulder, then he shifts his attention back to the building in front of us. “You gonna be the one to run the books?”
The thought of doing any more paperwork than I already do makes me want to scream. I don’t tell him that, though. Instead, I snort before I lean back and start to speak. My words come out, and the truth is behind every single one.
“Fuck that,” I bark. “I got enough paperwork to do, drowning in it, and I fucking hate that shit. I don’t need another fucking job to do here.”
Speed snorts. “Then I guess I’ll just be the muscle, because I got no desire to do an ounce of paperwork. I can barely write my own name.”
Shaking my head a couple of times, I throw my leg off my bike. He’s a liar. Speed is smart. It’s how he got his road name. He’s a fuckin’ nerd, and his brain works at lightning fucking speed.
“You ready for this?” I ask.
“Fuck no,” he says, then he jerks his chin in my direction. “Let’s do this.”
We walk together, one foot in front of the other. This is a twenty-five-thousand-dollar collection. Once a quarter for the next four months. I can’t even imagine borrowing a hundred grand for gambling purposes. I could buy something that would generate income for decades instead.
What a fucking waste.
“What kind of business is this?” Speed asks as soon as we step into the lobby.
It’s pretty fucking fancy. There are people walking around in suits, on their phones, and also in small groups, like they’re super fucking important. Everyone is busy being up their own asses, or up someone else’s ass.
My gaze shifts over to the reception desk, which is long and tall. There’s a huge gold sign affixed to the wall behind the four secretaries who sit behind said desk. I read the large sign before I turn back to Speed.
“Law firm,” I state.
There is a moment of silence, then Speed snorts. “Law firm with some hotties up at the front.”
Without another word, he makes his way toward the front counter, but I don’t need to go there. I know exactly where this guy’s office is. He’s one of the partners. And he’s going to have a nice, cushy corner office somewhere up high.
Walking over to the large directory sign, I look for his name. He’s on the top floor, no office space given, which means he’s got the whole top floor. Seems like maybe he can pay his bill but is fucking choosing not to at this point.
“You’re trying to get up to the top floor?” a voice asks beside me.
Turning my head, I look over to see a woman standing next to me. I don’t say anything as I stare at her, wondering who she is. I don’t ask her, though. There’s no reason for it.
“Yeah,” I say before I clear my throat. I don’t know what to say. But it doesn’t matter because she continues.
“I can get you up there, but I’m not sure if I should.”
“You shouldn’t,” Speed’s voice grinds out. “I got access already.”
“How the fuck?” I ask.
The woman beside me laughs softly. I don’t know if I should continue talking to her.
I don’t even know her, but I don’t want to give her the wrong impression either.
I’ve never had to worry about giving anyone the wrong impression.
I’ve always been free to fuck and do whatever I wanted.
This woman clearly wants that. I can’t and won’t give that to her, though.
Turning to her, I give her a smile. “We got this taken care of, honey.”
Her cheeks turn pink at my words, and my stomach twists the moment I use the word honey. That’s Juliette’s word. I shouldn’t have said it.
Shaking my head a couple of times, I clear my throat. “We got this.”
And we do.
We fucking got this.
Speed reaches for the elevator button, and I watch as he touches the up one. The woman standing to my side hums. I watch her walk over to the other elevator, her eyes lifting to meet mine.
“I’ll see you there, then.”
The elevator door opens, and I step into the car, unsure of what is going on, because clearly, she’s someone, but I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to find when I make my way up to the top of the building.
The door closes, and before it begins to move, Speed puts in some kind of code. I tilt my head to the side, watching him, and when the elevator begins to climb, that’s when he finally turns to me.
“What did you do?” I ask.
“Fucking the girl in reception when this is done, so wait for me outside,” he states before his brows lift a couple of times.
He thinks he’s fucking funny. Personally, I find it goddamn hilarious because he is not funny, but I’m glad he was able to get what we needed before I had to compromise my morals.
Not that I would—it’s not enough money for me to do that shit.
I’ve got Juliette at home, and even though we aren’t fucking right now, I would never hurt her like that.
I fucking love her.
The elevator rises, and when the car doors open, I’m the first to step out. And when I do, I realize why there was no office number. This is one big fucking room. I was right. This asshole’s desk is facing the window.
Another elevator car opens in the distance, and I hear Speed announce that he’s got my back. That’s good because I don’t plan on dealing with anyone but the person who owes twenty-five grand to the Perov Bratva.
Marching forward, I walk toward the desk where he has his back to me. He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t even attempt to face me, but I know he realizes I’m here because his spine straightens.
I decide that having my back against the window isn’t a good strategic place. So instead, I lean my shoulder against the bookcase on the side of the office space.
“You know why I’m here,” I state.
“I do,” he murmurs before he slowly turns his head.
His eyes find mine, and I see the absolute wreckage going on behind his gaze. He doesn’t have the money. In fact, he has nothing. He doesn’t tell me that, but I see it swimming behind his eyes.
“You don’t have it,” I state.
“I don’t,” he confirms.
“It’s only twenty-five Gs,” I remind him.
“I know.”
There is an awkward moment of silence. It’s at this exact moment that I wonder if I can do a double-dip deal here. “You got a mortgage on your home?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“You got fire insurance?”
“Yeah.”
Fucking perfect.