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“Which bargain basement did you find this lawyer in?” I shove my hands into my pockets, and Charles flinches. “Don’t worry—I didn’t bring my gun. I wouldn’t waste a bullet on you even if I did have it on me.”
The smell of his sweat is beginning to invade the room, mingling with whatever cheap disinfectant they used to scrub the last customer’s remnants out of here. “What are you going to do to me?” he asks.
“I’m simply here to tell you the facts, Charles.” I advance into the room. “Your lawyer may not have been honest with you, but I will be. You tried to sell a house that wasn’t yours to sell—not once, but twice.I believe that even your cut-rate lawyer would call that ‘fraud.’”
Charles’s knees buckle. He slides down the wall with a sweaty squeaking sound that’s almost as pathetic as he is. “I was desperate. Iamdesperate.”
“No need to tell me. I smelled it on you the moment we met.”
“Then help me!” He literally drops to his knees. “Please. Laila may be mad at me, but I’m still her father. I’m the only parent she has left. If she hated me, she wouldn’t be so angry with me.”
For my own sake, I hope he’s right about that. Hate is closer to love than apathy is.
“So settle my debt for me,” he pleads. “Settle the whole sum and you’ll never have to see me again for as long as I live.”
“I’m guessing that won’t be very long. So why should I bother?”
His mouth trembles. “Please.”
“The sad part is that I would have settled your debt,” I admit. “But you shot that option to hell when you went to Alessandro Calcagno.”
“I didn’t?—!”
“Spare me the lies, Charles. I have it on good authority that you floated the idea of a hit on my wife—your own fuckingdaughter—to the Italians. There’s no coming back from that.”
His whole body is trembling now. “I’m dead. You’re going to kill me.”
“I would. God, I’d love to, actually.” I flex my hands at my sides, knuckles cracking. “But the daughter you tried to have killed has decided to spare you. Now, you have two options: see this lawsuit through and land your ass in jail. Or leave and try to outrun your creditors. Your choice.”
“They’ll kill me if I run.”
“I’ll kill you if you stay.”
He presses his forehead to the floor, shaking all over, and I can’t watch this. Killing him would be a mercy at this point. One he doesn’t deserve.
“I’d leave tonight if I were you,” I add. “Clock’s ticking.”
With that, I leave. The musty smell of him and his room lingers in my nostrils far longer than I’d like.
But even when I get in my car, I don’t pull away quite yet. I idle down the block, watching the motel. After fifteen minutes, Charles slinks out with his few belongings strapped to his back. He catches a bus and is gone.
I should probably leave it at that and hope he doesn’t come back, but I find myself with my phone in my hand, typing out a text.
ARSEN:Your father is dropping the lawsuit. He won’t be a problem anymore.
I see that the message is delivered and opened.
Seconds pass, and I can feel the little bit of progress I made today slipping away. I’m about to throw my phone into the backseat and find somewhere to drown the ache in my chest when my phone buzzes.
Her reply is a simple, red heart.
Progress.
20
LAILA
I should have known this was coming.
