Because they’ll kill him if you don’t.
Even worse, they’ll kill you.
“Mr. Markovich said I could pay him in installments.” And if she was late, she knew she’d end up with late fees tacked on. Probably in the form of a missing finger or toe. She bit her lip to stop herself from whimpering.
The man whistled. He still held her flashlight, while she remained sitting on the cold ground. She shivered continuously. “Little shit owes money to Markovich, does he?”
“You don’t work for Markovich?”
“I don’t work for Markovich. The man I work for is far scarier than Markovich. I’m surprised he’d let you pay off a debt. He must like you.”
Not as far as she could tell.
Her stomach bubbled. What was going on? What trouble had Max gotten himself into now? Nana always said the Reynold men were born with an abundance of charm and a complete lack of morals. They could sweet talk someone into bed, then rob them blind while they slept. That was how Uncle Jack had made a living until one of his marks woke up and whacked him over the head.
“May he rest in peace,” she muttered.
“What?”
Shit. She froze. She hadn’t meant to speak out loud.
“Was that a threat, little rabbit?”
Okay, she’d thought his voice was cold and harsh before. Now he sounded just nasty. Pull-your-teeth-out-with-pliers-nasty.
She really, really needed to stop watching crime shoes on T.V.
“A t-threat? Have you l-looked at me? What s-sort of threat could I b-be?”
There was a beat of silence.
“Yeah. True. Max said you were a pushover. Bit of a wimp. That you spend all your time watching T.V. and have no life.”
Hurt stabbed her. Okay, it was one thing to know your brother was a jerk and an idiot. But it was another to hear that he was saying such hurtful things about her.
Like none of that was the truth?
Well, it didn’t matter if it was, it was still hurtful. She took a deep breath, trying to push back the pain. So, what if Max was saying stuff about her? What was so great about his life? And why was it that his issues kept landing on her plate?
“Whatever money Max owes your boss has nothing to do with me,” she told him a low voice, surprising herself. She didn’t usually fight back. She usually let people walk all over her.
“Is that so, little rabbit?” he whispered.
Okay, maybe now was not the time to find her backbone. Now was probably the time to say whatever this guy wanted to hear and get the hell out of here with all her fingers and toes attached.
“It i-is so.”
Damn it, Abby. Just say whatever he wants to hear to get away from him safely.
The big man crouched down and shone the flashlight in her face. She placed her arm over her eyes, trying to shield them. He grabbed her arm, making her whimper in pain.
“Now, listen here,” he said threateningly. “I want to know where your useless prick of a brother is.”
“I d-don’t know.” She was so terrified she felt like throwing up.
He made a low, angry noise and his hold on her tightened. Tears welled in her eyes.
“But he calls me once a week,” she lied. “I spoke to him yesterday. Next time he calls, I’ll find out for you.”