Kayla

Back Then…

“Daddy?” I called as I bounded up the rickety wooden stairs that led into the trailer my father used for an office.

I had parked my car, a twelve-year-old sedan that I had saved up for a year to buy, next to my father’s truck because my usual spot was occupied.

Before I went inside, I looked at the car parked right in front of the trailer like it belonged.

It did not.

This car wasn’t twelve years old, and I wouldn’t even dare to guess how much it had cost.

I wondered what it was doing here. 

Then I shrugged, telling myself it was nothing, though I was completely alert now, the sluggishness brought on by my long day only a memory.

Again told myself to shake it off. 

Sure, it didn’t happen often, but it wasn’t unheard of for some big shot from one of the corporate offices my father handled trucking for to come by for a visit.

Though at this hour…

I looked at my watch to check the time, but the total absence of sunlight was more than enough to tell me it was well after business hours.

But I reminded myself that availability and an unrivaled level of service was something my dad prided his trucking business on.

So that conspicuous car wasn’t a big deal, just like my father being here wasn’t. 

He worked way too hard, and my mother always told him it would catch up to him.

I told him that, too, but it wasn’t like he listened to me or to her.

I grabbed the doorknob of the trailer door, that feeling of unease still there, but a warmth spreading through my chest.

I hadn’t been home for a couple of months, which was why I had come directly here.

My mother would be disappointed, but I was looking forward to seeing my dad, so much so that I hadn’t bothered to go to the house first.

It was hard to believe that I was a semester away from graduation.

They were both so proud. 

And I was sure I had aced the interview at my dream company. So when I got confirmation that I’d landed the job, I’d tell them. I knew they’d be proud of that too.

For now, I would settle for a visit just to check on them. 

I was an only child, so I felt a lot of responsibility for my parents. But even more, I loved them both and actually looked forward to spending time with them. Something I’d gotten to do less of over the years, but I told myself that would change once I graduated and moved back home.

I pulled open the trailer door like I had thousands of times before.

But the sight that greeted me on the other side was definitely new.

As my brain tried to process what my eyes were seeing, I was sure my brain or my eyes were broken.

Something had to be.

What other explanation could there be for my father doubled over holding his stomach, his left arm in front of his face, and a towering giant of a man standing over him with a tire iron?

My gaze focused in on the weapon. Funny, but I had never thought of a tire iron like that before. It had always been a mundane tool that I had taken for granted. 

But it looked lethal in that man’s hands.

In a split second, I went from confused to reacting.

“Get away from him!”

I ran toward the man, my shoulder out, ready to use my not at all inconsiderable weight to throw him off balance and give my father a chance to get away.

“Kayla! Baby!” my father yelled, trying to wave me away.

I didn’t pay him any attention.

Instead I kept going, determined to take the advantage.

Or, at least, I had thought of it as the advantage.

When I was an arm’s length away from the stranger, any thought of advantage was wiped away completely.

Before I could react, before I could even think to stop, he had me tight in his grip.

I struggled mightily—and futilely.

He was stronger than he looked, which was saying something, considering that he looked plenty strong. 

I could tell he wasn’t even trying very hard, but his arms were like manacles, holding me trapped against his equally powerful body.

He released the tire iron, and it dropped to the trailer floor with a barely audible thud. Then it lay there, looking as innocuous as I had always thought of it.

But then, the menace of that metal was nothing, not in comparison to the man who held me in his punishing grip.

He moved smoothly, twisting my arm behind my back, and I was stunned by how quickly I went from attacker to captive.

“Let her go,” my father said.

The man paid him no heed. 

Instead he studied me.

I had stopped flailing, but as he looked at me, I wanted to scream, run, do something—anything—to escape the intensity of his gaze.

But I could do nothing.

On instinct, I again tried to wrench away from his grasp.

He tightened his hold, moving so quickly I couldn’t even react. But less than a second later, I was completely held in place.

Completely at his mercy.

“We don’t keep much cash in the office,” I said through clenched teeth.

I was trying to sound calm, but if his laugh was anything to go by, I was failing miserably.

I kept my gaze on his, wondering for a moment how he managed to look amused and terrifying at the same time.

Wondering how someone’s eyes could be so dark, yet so expressive.

“Your family has so many excuses,” he said.

His voice was deep, raspy, and he had an accent I couldn’t place.

And if the car wasn’t enough to clue me in, one look at him proved that all that my family owned would probably be meaningless to him.

He was tall, imposing, and to my surprise, he smelled as expensive as he looked.

This close, I could see the fine threads of his shirt, could see the same with his slacks, and I couldn’t miss the craftsmanship of his leather shoes.

He was older than me, though I couldn’t say by how much.

And something—probably instinct—told me hat this wasn’t the first time he’d found himself in a situation like this.

It was definitely a first—and I prayed a last—for me.

“I told you to get your hands off her,” my father said.

He sounded different, so I looked over, and saw that he had stood, and was approaching the stranger.

“Gary, don’t try to play the hero. It doesn’t suit you,” the man said.

Then he looked back to me, his dark eyes swirling with amusement before they went completely flat.

“I’m going to let you go so I can handle business with your father. Behave yourself, eh?” he said.

I stood up straighter, indignant at the condescending way he had spoken to me, though I didn’t contradict him. 

Not with words, anyway.

He turned his attention back to my father, but I somehow sensed that he was aware of me and my every movement.

“I wouldn’t try it,” he said, his voice both amused and full of warning.

My gaze, which had drifted to the discarded tire iron, popped back up to his face.

It was ridiculous that I felt guilty for trying to plan out how I might grab it in time to use it as an effective weapon.

But he hadn’t missed it, and apparently could read minds, or at the very least, predict desperate behavior.

“She doesn’t have anything to do with this. Let her go,” my dad said.

“Gary, you’re in no position to dictate anything to me. Where’s my money?” 

The man’s voice was flat, threatening, and all traces of amusement were completely gone. 

“I told you I’m working on it,” my father said, sounding defeated.

“And I told you that wasn’t sufficient. My family doesn’t do payment plans,” the man said.

I looked from him to my father and back again, trying to figure out what was going on. I was sure it wasn’t a robbery. Well, not only  a robbery. 

My father was upset, but he didn’t seem surprised.

“Kayla, go on outside,” my father said.

I went to move, but was stopped by the stranger’s voice. “Kayla, don’t take another step," he said.

He had taken his gaze away from my father to look at me, and for some reason, I couldn’t move.

“Gary, where’s my money?” the man said, his gaze never leaving me.

He seemed calm, and that was more scary than anger would have been.

I hoped my father had whatever money the man was asking for.

“I told you I’m working on it,” my father repeated.

The man shook his head. “Not good enough, Gary. Your time is up. So now we move to the next stage of this arrangement,” the man said.

“Tell me what’s going on, Daddy,” I whispered, feeling afraid to speak loudly, though I doubted it would make a difference.

My father looked away guiltily, but didn’t say anything.

I frowned, but then decided whatever feelings I was having were secondary to the situation. 

Whatever the hell this situation was.

I still didn’t have an answer for that, but I knew two things for sure.

My father knew this man.

And I had a better chance of getting answers from this stranger than I would from him.

“What do you want?” I said, my gaze squarely on him.

I refused to look away until I got the answers I needed.

The man seemed to sense that and didn’t waste time answering. “As I’ve already said, and as Gary knows, payment is due.”

“So this is about money?” I asked.

“Isn’t everything?” he responded.

I huffed, then reminded myself it wouldn’t help our cause if I got flustered. “I have some money in my account. If you can wait for the morning, I can give you that," I said.

"How much money, Kayla?" the man said.

“About thirty-two hundred dollars,” I replied. 

I knew with every fiber of my being it wouldn’t be enough.

He chuckled. “That won’t do.”

“Why not? I mean, it’s a start, right?” I said.

Somehow I had gone from completely naive about whatever was happening here, to trying to negotiate with this stranger.

I had no idea what I was doing, but I had to try.

“It’s not even a drop. Your father owes many, many, many orders of magnitude more than that amount. Plus interest,” the man said.

My heart, which had started to slow ever so slightly, picked right it back up.

“How much?” I asked, though everything inside of me told me the answer would change my life forever.

“You sure you want to know?” the man said, clearly taunting me.

“Just tell me,” I responded, letting some of my annoyance show.

I quickly sobered, but he was clearly amused.

Then he whispered the number.

“Oh God,” I said, my knees buckling and my stomach flipping.

I looked at my father, imploring him to tell me what was going on.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to ask.

After a long moment, he spoke.

“I’ve been running on the edge for a while. We needed things, and we had to upgrade some stuff. So I took out a loan," he said.

"And I’m supposed to think he’s a banker?” I said.

The stranger laughed, but my father didn’t crack a smile.

I didn’t either.

I had absolutely nothing to smile about, and wondered if I ever would again.

“No, Kayla, I’m not a banker. And I don’t abide by rules. Your father knew the terms, and my expectations. He’s failed to fulfill them, and there will be consequences for that,” the man said.

He moved gracefully, something I was ashamed I even noticed, as he picked up the tire iron, and then looked at my father.

“He’s no good to you if he’s dead,” I said quickly.

Even uttering the sentence made my world spin on its axis, but I forced myself to keep it together as I looked at the man.

“No, he’s not, but there’s repetitional value to consider,” he said.

“Meaning what?” I asked, my mind racing for a solution.

“Well, if I let Gary here violate the terms of his agreement without consequence, then everyone else will think they can too. They can’t. So if Gary can’t pay me, he can be advertising. A little show for others of what will happen to anyone who tries to fuck me,” he said.

He was serious.

I didn’t doubt that.

Couldn’t doubt that.

All I could do was think, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which would stick.

Time seemed frozen, but I knew it was only a split second before I started speaking, afraid to give voice to the one thought I had but knowing I had no other choice.

"What if we could handle this problem some other way?” I said.

The man, who had been gripping the tire iron froze, then looked at me, his expression curious.

"What do you mean?” he asked.

I didn’t answer immediately, and instead took a deep breath, hoping some other answer would come to be, trying to buy time before I said the words that would permanently and irrevocably change my life.

Nothing came. 

So I was left to do the only thing I could to save my father.

I looked the man directly in his eyes and whispered, “I have a proposition for you.”

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this bonus prologue! 

Elias and Kayla’s story continues in WICKED CLAIM.

CLICK HERE to get it!