Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)

We move around the building. A light shines from the single window in the backroom, but a curtain obscures the view. My pulse racing, I test the doorknob. Locked. A nod at Rhett communicates my command. He knows what to do. Stepping back, he takes aim.

3

Valentina

Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I take a few deep breaths and get a hold on myself. One thing at a time. Dinner first and then packing. I’m breaking the eggs in a bowl when a shadow moves across the curtained window. My heartbeat picks up and warning prickles pop over my skin. Maybe it was someone passing by in the street. Holding my breath, I prick up my ears and sharpen my gaze. No sound comes from outside. There’s no further movement. Several seconds pass with nothing happening. I’m almost letting the air out of my lungs in relief when the doorknob turns.

The action is quiet and ominous. Someone is trying to break in.

I can’t move. Escape. We need to escape, but the door to the shop is locked, and Ru is the only one with a key. Five more seconds and then the adrenalin takes effect. I drop the whisk, looking for a weapon. At the same time, I gauge Charlie’s position. He’s still on the bed, which puts him closer to the door. Grabbing the vegetable knife, I put myself with quiet steps between Charlie and the door. Thank God for Rhett’s self-defense training. My experience is limited, and my physical state is weak. My only chance is to catch our attacker off-guard. As soon as the door opens, I’ll stab. My hand holding the insufficient weapon shakes. Charlie looks up and notices the knife. Before I can silence him, he yells. His scream breaks my concentration. A loud thud falls on the door. The doorframe rattles. Whoever is outside now knows we know he’s there. The element of surprise is lost. There’s no more breaking in quietly. He’s kicking down our door.

When the door flies into the room a horrible spell of déjà vu washes over me. For the second time tonight I’m frozen, but this time I’m frozen in a moment in the past. Like in my memory, Gabriel steps over the broken wood into the room. Rhett and Quincy are on his heels, but I can only focus on the man I ran from and the gun in his hand.

He found us.

He’s going to kill us.

Charlie stares at the three men, confusion marring his features. Since our first violent encounter with Gabriel, after all the visits to Kris’ place, Charlie considers Gabriel a friend. Quincy and Rhett block the only exit while Gabriel crosses the floor with his characteristic limp. He wears a black suit and white shirt without a tie. His body is as broad and big as I remember, and there’s menace in every line of each rigid muscle. The dull light of the room isn’t enough to wash out the scars on his cheek. He missed a haircut or two. Wisps of curls reach his ears.

He stops in front of me and looks down at me with the darkest expression I’ve ever seen. From the way his chest heaves, whatever is going on inside his head is intense. Retribution is intense. So is killing. There’s only one thing I can do to try and save our lives.

I fall down on my knees and fold my arms around his legs. Looking up at him with all the begging I’m capable of, I whisper, “Please, Gabriel.”

The gun in his hand shakes.

I can’t control my shivering. Even my voice trembles. “It’s not Charlie’s fault. Please don’t hurt him.”

“Come on, buddy,” Rhett says, taking Charlie’s arm, “let’s go grab a milkshake.”

“Milk–milkshake.” Charlie doesn’t hesitate. He trusts Gabriel and therefore his friends.

They’re going to shoot my brother in the back alley. I start to cry, hugging Gabriel’s legs harder. “Please don’t hurt him. I’ll do anything, anything you want.”

His stance is passive as he regards me. The only movement is a tick in his temple. “They’re just taking him for a drink.”

So that Gabriel can shoot me without Charlie bearing witness?

Rhett and Quincy exit the room with my brother, leaving me alone with Gabriel. My tears fall faster. My pride won’t let me grovel for myself, but I’ll do anything for my baby. Degrading myself like I’ve never done, I kneel down farther and kiss his feet, my tears spoiling his expensive shoes.

“Please, Gabriel, I beg you. Please, don’t kill us. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry for running, but I didn’t have a choice.”

My breath catches in fear when he grips my hair and guides my head up to meet his eyes again. Caressing my scalp with the barrel of the gun, he takes a plastic bag from his pocket and dangles it in front of my face. “Is this why you ran?”