I’m not going to lie. His threats are turning me on. He’s just so intense and angry. And hot. I can imagine the way his eyes must be glinting like two steel bolts about to strike home. I bet his muscles are bulging and flexing right now with the urge to get his hands on me.
“Yeah? What kind of pain? Be specific.”
“I am going to cane you, girl. A stroke for every hour you keep my hammer away from me.”
“Wow. A punishment they used to use on schoolgirls. Terrifying.”
“You want it to be worse?”
I laugh. He is never going to put hands on me. He has no idea where I am. If he did, he’d be here already.
“I want you to pay me and stop making weak little girl threats.”
He snarls down the line. “There is no threat that will convince you to do the sensible thing, because you are yet to know true pain and suffering. I will change both those things.”
“Pay me. My money.”
“It’s not your money, and the fact that you think I have a hundred thousand pounds to give to the local rip-off artist is testament to how foolish you are.”
“Alright. Fifty thousand.”
He laughs. His mirth is cold like rolling thunder.
"You are so far out of your depth, little girl. Bring the hammer back to the abbey and we will be done.”
“I want money. Make me an offer.”
“You will not get a penny from me, girl.”
“Then you won’t get your hammer back. Bye.”
I disconnect the call. I didn’t expect him to agree to give me a hundred thousand pounds right away, but I bet he can scrape together at least ten thousand. Am I kind of a twat for demanding money from a church group trying to raise funds for a new roof? Yeah. Definitely. But their problem isn't my problem. I am their problem.
Unfortunately, this means that I’m not going to be getting the rent money today. Sixty pounds might as well be a hundred thousand pounds with the amount of money I have. Oh well. There’s always tomorrow.
4
Tomorrow comes at me hard.
It comes with someone pulling down the stairs to my room and coming up them. Stephanie. She sticks her head through the hole in my floor and glares at me with her unhappy face.
“I need that money, or you can move your things out today. I mean it, Anita. We’re covering your share of the rent and it’s not fair. You need to get a job.”
“I have a job,” I tell her. “I’m going to get paid very soon, I promise.”
She frowns at me. Meanwhile, I find it hard to keep a straight face because when people stick their heads up the hole the way she has done, they basically look like disembodied heads. “You've promised far too many times for me to believe you.”
"Alright, well, if you want me to leave, I assume you’ve got the eviction papers.”
“Don’t be a dickhead,” she says. “Just get the money. Or something like the money.”
She dips out, leaving me to my increasingly desperate circumstances. I really didn’t want to call him back this soon. The timeline isn’t good. We’re talking so much right now it feels like we’re practically dating. Hell, there are men I’ve been with who talked to me less than Thor.
Thor answers the phone with his name. I don’t know who actually does that.
“Thor.”
“Hi. What about, say, a thousand pounds?”
“Not a pound. Not a penny.”
“What about a hundred pounds?”
He’s got to say yes to that. A hundred pounds is nothing. I feel stupid even asking for that.
The dial tone is my only response.
“Fucking hell,” I curse. “Wanker!”
I dial again. I can't believe he hung up on me. I suppose it is his right, but it does seem rude. I get to steal things and bribe people, but hanging up on others, well. How very dare he.
“Girl.” An impatient voice answers. I don’t know this one. Or maybe I do. It’s an English accent, a refined one. Not the soft-spoken servile voice who first got me Thor. This is someone who fancies himself in charge.
“Who is this? I want to talk to Thor.”
“Thor’s not going to talk to you. And you’re not getting any money. From any of us. Return the hammer before it gets you into real trouble. There’s worse things to be than broke. Trust me.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Father Bryn. Direview Abbey is my ancestral home, and Thor is my brother. In crossing him, you have crossed me. What is your name?”
“Obviously, I’m not going to tell you that. And obviously the hammer means something to you all. So why don’t you cough up some money. I’m barely asking for anything. Just a sweet ten thousand pounds.”
“It was a hundred last call.”
“That was last call. Then he hung up on me and that made me angry. It’s back to ten thousand. That’s a ninety-percent discount on the original hundred thousand. I’m practically giving this thing away here!”