Page 5 of Rough Ride

“There was never any money around the house,” Eliana replied defensively. “The fridge was usually empty, and bills would pile up until I begged him to pay them. I worked summers just to provide.”

“What about your house? Who paid for that? Four-bedroom, three-story house in the suburbs?”

“My dad inherited it from my mother when she died.”

“What about that fancy private school? I heard you took some extra classes to get you into Ivy League.”

“Scholarships and secondhand books.”

“Well ain’t that something,” Max said, downing his drink. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs. “Your daddy told you all that?”

“Yes.”

“Then he wasn’t just a thief, he was a liar too,” Max said, and Eliana felt the heat drain from her body. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Miss Granville, you must’ve known deep down. Your daddy didn’t inherit that house, I paid for it. You didn’t get into prep-school on scholarship; you got in on my dollar. Your daddy was running deliveries for the Demons since he was your age.”

“That’s not possible…”

“It isn’t?” Max asked patronizingly. Eliana let the reality sink in before she buried her face in her hands. “If you think about it, the only reason you got into Harvard was because of me.”

“My dad was working with Dean,” Eliana defended with the need to have some ground to stand on.

“Who was, up until the end, a loyal member of my crew. So, you see,” Max said, leaning forward, “you owe me a great deal, Miss Granville. It’s time to pay up.” Feeling on the verge of hyperventilating, Eliana stood and began pacing in front of his desk. Max ignored her mental breakdown and walked to his side of the desk, opened the top drawer, and removed a thick stack of files. Plopping them open on the desk, Eliana recognized the mug shots from the ones Kye had shown her.

“I’m not defending murderers,” Eliana snapped. Max walked around the desk and sat on the edge of it.

“You don’t have much of a choice in the matter, Miss Granville,” Max said firmly. “While you are here in Pine Hill, you are at my beck-and-call. These two men are of no use to me behind bars. They’re looking at the death penalty, do you know what that means?”

“They’ll get what they deserve?” Eliana countered.

“No, it means they’re desperate. Desperate men have a way of talking too much when they think it can benefit them. I want their case dismissed, Miss Granville. I am not accustomed to leaving loose ends. From what I understand you’re a decent lawyer, and since I practically paid for that education, it’s time I cashed in.”

“No.”

“What did you just say to me?” Max asked, standing upright.

“I said ‘no’,” Eliana repeated. “I’m not your servant, and I’m not their lawyer.”

“You don’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, Miss Granville,” Max said, stepping toward her. “I may have held you with a gentle hand, little bird, but don’t think for a second I won’t close my fist around you until I’ve choked every last ounce of life out of you.” His teeth were clenched together, and with every word, he stepped closer and Eliana moved backward. Max nodded once and the two men by the door, whom she’d forgotten about entirely, each grabbed an arm, dragged her forward, and slammed her face-first onto the desk.

Crying out in pain, she felt the hand on the back of her neck, her cheek pressed against the crime files, and one arm twisted painfully behind her back. She screamed in pain again as the hand twisted more firmly.

“What will it be, Miss Granville?” Max asked, standing in front of her. Before she answered, she heard the click of two guns cocking. “Your life or theirs?”

Kye was doing his best not to look as nervous as he felt. While he had every confidence that Eliana was intelligent, he also knew Max’s ability to break anyone down. While he leaned against the wall opposite Max’s office door, the two others continued their poker game at the foldout table.

Sammy, the bald, dark-skinned man had come on board as Max’s personal security only three years ago. Like Max, he’d moved north from the Southern states of the US. For the most part, he seemed like a jovial guy, but the sheer size of his biceps that looked more like the barrel end of a tank left no room for misinterpretation. This guy was lethal.

Then there was Dhal. Former Marine turned private contractor, served more tours overseas than years in the US and no one’s sweetheart. While never interacting much outside of formalities, Kye knew the man had a particular distaste for him. Dhal was all meat and no charm.

“Wanna sit in a hand?” Dhal offered, and spittle from his sunflower seed-crammed mouth filled the corners of his lips. He must have been on his fourth or fifth run at quitting smoking. Last time Dhal tried to quit, two Wall Kats had turned up with bruises, and they’d had to replace one of the flat-screen TVs downstairs.

“No thanks,” Kye said with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were still focused on the door as if mentally begging it to open, Eliana and Max to walk out laughing and hugging, claiming it was all one big misunderstanding.

“Suit yourself, KD,” Dhal said, and seeing the younger man’s slightly worried expression, leaned over to Sammy. “Think she’s sucking his dick?” Sammy laughed at the question, and Kye’s blazing eyes turned to Dhal who only shuffled the deck in his hand and began dealing out cards. “If she’s smart, she’ll suck his dick.”

“Shut up,” Kye said sternly and at the reaction, Dhal only smiled. Sammy, who didn’t care in the least who won this argument, leaned back in his chair to enjoy the drama.

“Yeah, he’s probably got her under that desk right now, balls deep in her mouth, a handful of hair… Think she swallows?”