Page 11 of Forgiving Utah

Devon’s head jerks up. “Christian, no⁠—”

“Shut up. How much does he owe?”

And for what?

Judging by the skeletal look of his cheekbones, I can probably guess.

Arnie sizes me up for a long moment. “Five grand.”

My jaw nearly drops to the floor.

Five fucking thousand dollars!

“What the hell did you do?” I growl at Dev, but he still won't look me in the eye.

He aims his glare at Arnie's ugly mug. “You said two. Not five.”

“That was before your pal here disrupted my business and ruined my bar. You're lucky that's all I'm charging you for.”

Those words hang heavy in the air, and Dev recoils like he’s been hit. His fingers twitch at his sides, throat working around a swallow, but he doesn’t say another word.

A sick feeling roils in my gut. I don’t even like Devon, but watching him wilt under Arnie’s sneer ain't sitting right with me. And the way some of these gross motherfuckers are eyeing him and Owen creeps me out. Shit.

This all can go south really fucking quick if I don't play my cards right.

“Fine,” I say, scrambling for a plan. “Deal. I'll pay.”

Devon finally glances my way. “Christian, don’t.”

Ignoring him, I turn to the sleazy bar owner and pull out my wallet. “I don't have any more cash.”

Fuck, I don't have that kinda money at all. But TOT's business account does, even though it's slowly drying up. I'll figure it out. Whatever I gotta do to get us out of this shit.

Arnie tilts his head toward the bar with a grin. “Register.”

The blade at my throat disappears. Without taking my eyes off the fucker still holding it, I make my way over to the asshole bartender and give him my credit card.

Technically, it's not even mine. Logan set it up for business financing, to be used only in emergencies. Pretty sure this fucking counts as an emergency.

Seconds tick by as the bartender runs the card, and when the point-of-sale system flashes 'approved', he slides it across the counter with the receipt. I don’t bother signing it, just shove the card back into my wallet and turn around.

“Now we’re done,” I say flatly. “Let us go.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Arnie drawls, swinging his gaze over to Dev. “Debt’s settled.”

Relief hits me instantly, but before I even have time to breathe, one of his guys steps forward and drives a brutal fist straight into Devon’s face with a sickening crack.

“Hey!” I lunge forward when he crumples to the ground, only to be held back by someone's tight grip on my arm.

“That’s for wasting my time,” Arnie says calmly, looking down at Devon’s unconscious body. “Hopefully he learns his lesson. Now get the fuck out of my bar.”

Rough hands grab Devon under the arms, dragging his limp body across the filthy floor. I fight like hell, but there are too many of them. Owen scrambles to keep up as they shove us out of the exit and onto the street.

Cold air hits my face, and I spin around in time to watch them toss Devon at my feet before slamming the door shut. Dropping to my knees, I immediately roll him onto his side. Bruises mottle his skin.

“Dev,” I growl, jostling his body. “Hey. Fuck, wake up.”

Nothing.