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Chapter 6
The sounds of Mila’s heels echoed through the abandoned metal chop shop. She found it odd that in the middle of the day, the shop would be empty. It was owned by one Lazar Zivic. She was there to collect a debt from the Serbian immigrant.
Davor followed behind her as they made their way to the office. Her pulse was up with the anticipation of what was to come. She thrived on the thrill of collecting a debt. But today’s debt would be one of flesh. Lazar had not paid one dime back of the money he had borrowed.
Loud noises came from the office area. Davor brushed past her and rushed ahead. Looked as if they had a runner. She jogged behind her enforcer and found him grabbing the man as he tried to climb out of the first-floor window of the office.
“Oh, Lazar.” She stood in the doorway as she watched Davor drag the struggling man across the floor and around the desk with one hand. It always amazed her how strong he was. He turned the chair that sat in front of the desk around before slamming the shop owner down into it.
She glared at the man as he sat there, shaking in front of her. She tried to calm her racing heart. The man trembled at just the sight of her.
“Kollektor,” he uttered as his eyes focused on her.
“My family has been very generous to you, Lazar—”
“Please, let me explain—”
“You move to America from Serbia and we open our arms and pockets to help you get on your feet,” she continued, ignoring his begging. “We have lent money to you not once, but twice.”
“I’m so sorry,” he cried out. “I need more time.”
“It looked as if you were leaving. Where were you going, Lazar?” she snapped. Slowly making her way into the room, she stopped directly in front of him. It pissed her off that he owed her family a debt, and he was caught crawling out of the window, trying to make a run for it.
“Nowhere. Just cleaning my off—” he screamed as she grabbed his left hand and bent back his first two fingers, snapping them. Her anger mounted at his lies. She was in no mood to chase anyone.
Not today.
“Don’t lie to me,” she snarled, bending his fingers back farther. Her eyes narrowed on the crying man. Did he think her to be stupid? Clearly, he was trying to escape and run for it. Why else would a busy chop shop be closed during the day?
“Look what I found,” Davor said as he rummaged through a box on the desk. It must have been what Lazar was planning to take with him before leaving.
“Don’t move,” she growled, walking over to the desk. Davor pulled out two large wads of hundred-dollar bills and a handgun.
“Oh, Lazar, you have been a bad boy,” she declared and shook her head. He would pay. If he had just made payments, she wouldn’t be here. The organization’s banker would have worked with the shop owner, if only he would have been up front and honest and made the fucking payments. “You told my banker that you didn’t have any money. What is this?”
She swung her arm, her hand connecting with his head in a slap. She motioned for the handgun. Davor handed it to her and shook his head, for he knew what was to come. She was there to collect a debt. Her leather gloves would keep her fingerprints from being found on the weapon. She walked around the pitiful excuse of a man as she checked the chambers. It was loaded already.
Perfect.
Lazar whimpered as she stood before him with the loaded gun in her hand. Looked as if she would be saving her own bullets today. Her glock could stay strapped to her thigh for this.
She aimed and pulled the trigger, hitting his right foot. He let out a tortured scream as he flailed in the chair.
“Stop screaming!” she roared. Her arm lashed out with the gun, connecting the weapon with his jaw. His head snapped back from the force of the blow. Blood pooled in his mouth and began flowing out of the sides. He held his head down, where she could no longer see his eyes. Her emotions escaped her as she stared down at the stifling man.
“Please, I’ll get you the money,” he chanted repeatedly.
She held no regard for him or his life. Respectable men paid their debts.
“Please, Kollektor,” he begged again, louder, his pitiful eyes now on her. Davor strolled from behind the desk, taking the wads of money with him as he stood behind her.
Her eyes took in a dark puddle that appeared on his lap as he sniffled and begged for his life. This was the part that sickened her. They always begged and tried to negotiate. She was sure that was to come next.
“Take the money as payment. Consider me late—”
She raised her arm and pulled the trigger, silencing his words forever. The sound of the gunshot was brief and loud, leaving a dark red hole in his forehead. A look of horror was frozen on his face as his body slowly slumped down in the chair, before it slid to the floor with a thump. She tossed the gun to the floor next to the body.
She turned and brushed past Davor. “Torch this fucking place,” she demanded as she walked out of the office.
