“You must be Grady.” A voice to my left surprised me and I turned to see a man walking into the living room from the kitchen.
“Yeah...” I tilted my head as he stepped into the light. His face was red and swollen.
“I guess I’m your father-in-law.” He walked up to me and narrowed his eyes at me. “If I didn’t already feel like shit, I’d punch you in the mouth and take the ass-whipping that would probably follow.”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t lay a hand on your daughter. The marriage will be annulled just as soon as my brother signs his contract.” The lack of reaction from the old man suggested he knew exactly what I was referencing.
“I didn’t want her marrying your brother anyway. You did me a favor, too.” He picked up a beer from the table and took a drink.
“Oh, hell no.” Monica’s face flushed with anger. “He ruined everything!”
“Monica...” Her father dropped his head and sighed heavily.
“So why are you packing up?” I looked around the room again.
“That’s none of your business.” Monica quickly snapped at me with the same angry scowl on her face.
“I’m guessing it has something to do with the bruises on your face?” I turned back towards her father.
“Don’t tell him anything.” Monica shook her head angrily.
“Whatever.” I sighed and waved her off. “I don’t want to know. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t about to do anything stupid.”
“I’m fine.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “You can go now.”
“Fine—I’m leaving.” I shrugged and started walking towards the door.
I walked outside and stared at the street before throwing a leg over my motorcycle. The street was pretty quiet, but there was a dark colored sedan parked near Monica’s house. When I cranked up my motorcycle and my headlight illuminated the inside of the car, I saw a man duck down. I rolled down the driveway and slowly drove by the car, staring at the man as he started to lean up in his seat.
I recognized him. He worked for Walter Grant, who was a fairly predominant loan shark in Las Vegas. I recognized him because I had done a few jobs for Walter Grant over the years when I was low on money. If he was sitting outside Monica’s house that mean that her father likely owed Walter Grant a considerable amount of money, and they thought he might skip town before the debt was paid. If the boxes in the living room were any indication, that was exactly what they were planning to do.
Things started to click in my head as I drove home. Walter Grant was pretty good to people who tried to pay him back, but if her father was planning on running from the debt, it wasn’t going to end well for him.
I HAD NO REASON TO give a shit about Monica or her father, but when I got out of bed the next morning, I couldn’t help but think about what I had seen the night before. Her message on social media—the boxes in her house—Walter Grant’s man watching her house. I took a shower and after I was done, I decided that I was going to go see Monica again. She might not know much about Walter Grant, but I felt obligated to at least warn the two of them that they were being watched. I didn’t know how much money her father borrowed from the loan shark, but he wouldn’t have put someone on their house all hours of the night if it wasn’t a considerable sum. I had done that kind of work before and it was usually when there was a lot of money at stake.
I got on my motorcycle and drove over to her house. The car that was there the night before was gone, but there was a black SUV parked on the curb next to her mailbox. I didn’t see anyone inside, but it was definitely too nice to be parked in that neighborhood. I parked in her driveway and saw that her front door was open. When I got closer, I could hear shouting, which caused me to pick up my pace.
“Did you not get the message when I was here before?” I heard a man’s voice followed by a thud, and then I heard Monica scream.
“Leave him alone!” Monica’s voice was hurried and I could tell she was crying.
“I gave you a week and you’re trying to skip town?” The man’s voice boomed.
“Hey!” I pushed the door open and saw Monica’s father on the floor with a man towering over him—it wasn’t someone I recognized from Walter Grant’s crew. “Leave him alone.”
“Who the fuck are you?” The man turned towards me.
“Do you work for Walter Grant?” I took a step towards him.
“Something like that.” He chuckled and narrowed his eyes at me. “I’ll ask again—who the fuck are you?”
“There’s a misunderstanding here.” My eyes darted around the room. “He isn’t skipping town.”
“He isn’t? The boxes say otherwise.” The man motioned to the boxes stacked against the door.
“We just got married.” I pointed past the man to Monica. “She’s packing up because she’s coming to live with me. Her father doesn’t have anything to do with that. You’re going to pay your debt, right Mr. Adamson?”
“I am.” Mr. Adamson leaned forward and put a hand on his ribs.