"How much?"
"Thirty percent."
My jaw fell open. "Thirty percent interest?"
Mark lifted a shoulder. "That's actually a good rate. The problem is that if you don't pay on time, they break an arm or leg to give you an incentive."
"What's he going to do? Can he afford to pay thirty percent? That's…" I sat and calculated the interest. My inheritance gave me a nice stipend of two grand a month before taxes. That paid my room and board and a little left over for spending. If he lost my entire inheritance…
"That's one hundred and fifty grand for your fund alone, not to mention some that he invested from his own money," Mark said quietly.
I sat in stunned silence, unable to grasp what he told me.
"I guess I better get a job." I shook my head and felt tears threaten but I couldn't feel bad for myself when Graham was so badly hurt.
"Graham's so sorry about losing your money," Mark said, turning to me. "He was sick about it. He was going to cash in some of his investments to pay the interest but he can't cover all one hundred and fifty grand. He could only come up with ten grand in cash. He gave that to Stepan but it wasn't enough to stop the beating."
"Why did he go to a loan shark? My God, Mark, even I know you never get mixed up with them."
"He freaked. You were starting law school and he has big debts. He thought he was investing your money in this sure thing…" He sighed and finished his coffee.
A nurse came down the hallway to where we sat. "Celia?" she said, peering around the corner. "Your brother's waking up."
I jumped up and went to his room, where a nurse tended to him, offering him some water from a glass with a straw.
I went to the other side of the bed and took his hand in mine.
"Hey," I said, my eyes brimming. "You're waking up."
He nodded almost imperceptibly. He tried to say something, but he had his jaw wired and I could barely make out what he said.
I leaned down and put my ear to his lips. "What did you say?"
"I lost it all," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
I glanced at him and saw tears slipping down his cheeks.
"Shh," I replied and stroked his cheek. "I know. Mark told me. Don't worry about that. You've got to get better. That's all that matters."
He shook his head slowly. "Go to Hunter."
I frowned.
Hunter. There could be only one Hunter.
Hunter Saint.
"I can't," I said and shook my head. "You know better than that."
"Go," he said through gritted teeth. "Go to him."
"No, Graham, he hates us. He hates me."
Graham shook his head slowly. "No," he said. "Go to him."
"That's like going from the frying pan into the fire." I wiped tears off my cheeks. "He's as bad as this Stepan goon who beat you up."
"No," Graham said. "He's not."