Wicked Favor

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Wicked Favor Page 22

by Sawyer Bennett


  I snort, and then give a hysterical laugh as I turn to look at him. "Well, joke is on you, Jerico, because this wouldn't have hurt Jayce. He wouldn't give two shits about this stuff."

  "What?" Jerico asks in disbelief.

  My voice is sharp with malice as I tell him, "Who do you think made the original loan to me, Jerico? Who do you think beat me up when I couldn't come up with the money?"

  I don't miss the way Jerico's eyes flame with fury and his jaw goes rock hard.

  "I'll kill him," he grits out, with his fists opening and closing tightly as his body seems to vibrate with rage.

  I give a mocking laugh at Jerico even as the tears break free of my eyes and fall down my cheeks. "I don't give a shit what you do to Jayce. I don't give a shit what you do at all, Jerico. I just never want to see you again."

  "Trista," Jerico calls to me as I grab the door and tear it open. I can hear him coming after me, so before I can take three steps down the hallway, I spin on him. He comes to a halt just a foot away.

  I suck in a breath. In a voice laced with so much hurt and pain it hurts my own ears to hear it, I tell him, "If you have any care for me at all... don't come after me. Respect my decision to leave and let me go on with my life."

  Jerico's entire body deflates as his expression turns haunted. He rubs his hands over his face and when he drops them, he looks resigned. Nodding, he says, "If that's what you want."

  And oh, God... my heart feels like it's collapsing, the pain is so intense. If that's what I want, how come his capitulation is making me hurt like this?

  Before I start sobbing, I turn around and quickly walk down the private hall to the lobby.

  I keep my head down, although I know people are watching me.

  Then I'm out of The Wicked Horse, and I don't look back once.

  CHAPTER 27

  Jerico

  "This is a bad idea, brother," Kynan says to me as I pull up in front of the trailer where Jayce lives.

  I had him thoroughly investigated after Trista found the photos in my shred bin two days ago and shared with me her brother was the one who loaned her the money. I have to say, a few things surprised me about the Jayce of today, the first being that he lived in this dump. Jayce had been a fairly clean-cut, responsible guy when I knew him pre-fucking-my-fiancee. I wouldn't have employed him at The Jameson Group if he wasn't.

  But in the last five years, he's deteriorated. My sources indicate he's not been employed in three years and makes his money from selling drugs, which is enough to pay rent on this dump and his other living expenses. I had twenty-four-hour surveillance on him for the last two days and learned he's gained at least forty pounds since I last saw him, is probably an alcoholic based on the amount of discarded beer cans in a box outside his door, and he seems to have no friends other than people who come by his house for drugs. He's low level though, basically selling pot and some prescription pills he has prescribed for him by a doctor for sciatica.

  I couldn't figure it out at first.

  How someone this destitute and without any ambition came up with thirteen grand to loan his sister. To say I was shocked when Trista let that little secret out of the bag is an understatement. While I wanted to just hunt him down and kill him for putting his hands on Trista, I let some maturity and wisdom prevail, deciding I needed more information before I could determine how to handle him. I had called Kynan immediately so he could start investigating the fucker.

  Within a day, I had my answer. Jayce isn't a loan shark, but he did take out a loan from one himself to give the money to Trista. He charged her double the interest he was being charged, and figured he could make a little money on the deal when she gave him twenty-five thousand back. Greasing a few palms, I even found out who Jayce got the money from, the true payoff, and confirmed the ten grand I advanced to Trista to give to her "loan shark" was never received by the real shark. I'm assuming Jayce has probably spent it, but I'm going to find out for sure.

  Right now.

  I pull on the handle to open my door, but Kynan's hand on my shoulder stops me. When I turn to look at him, I know he can tell by the look on my face I don't have any patience right now. My original plan had just been to kill Jayce. Clean and simple. When Kynan showed up to my office that morning after Trista left, he, of course, asked what I was going to do after I filled him in on everything that had happened.

  I don't lie to Kynan, so I told him. "I'm going to kill Jayce Barnes and need to figure out where to dump his remains."

  Kynan's eyebrows merely lifted as he took a casual seat in one of my guest chairs. "You're going to kill Jayce?"

  "That fucker is going to pay," I had growled at him, still reeling from Trista leaving me and what I learned.

  Leaning forward in his chair, Kynan pinned me with a sober look. "Jerico... man... it's time to let that stuff with Jayce and Michelle go. With the baby, too. You've got to move on, buddy."

  My head had snapped up in surprise, and I waved an impatient hand at him. "What are you talking about? I let that go."

  "Then why do you want to kill him?" Kynan asked.

  I huffed with agitation. "Because of what he did to Trista. That fucker wouldn't help his niece out. Instead, he forced Trista to borrow money from him, and then he hit her when she couldn't repay it."

  Rather than chastising me or telling me what an idiot I was for even thinking I could get away with cold-blooded murder, Kynan had just grinned at me like he figured out something huge.

  "What?" I'd snapped at him.

  "Dude, you really have moved past all that shit with Jayce and Michelle," he'd said with awe and an even bigger smile. "You're in love with Trista, aren't you?"

  I looked away, not because he was right, but because he was uncomfortably close to being right. I didn't know what I felt for Trista, but it was powerful and consuming and because of it, I wanted to make Jayce pay. It was the only control I had left, because Trista certainly wasn't going to have anything to do with me.

  But now at least I've calmed down and don't intend to kill him.

  I am going to make him sorry, though.

  Kynan's hand squeezes my shoulder, bringing me out of my thoughts. "You cool?"

  "I'm cool. Not going to kill him."

  "Okay," he says, dropping his hand. "Want me to come in?"

  "Nope," I respond as I open the door and get out of my Range Rover. I look at Kynan across the console and assure him, "This shouldn't take long."

  Kynan nods and I shut the door, not worrying about the way my lips want to quirk upward in anticipation. After I'd received all the intelligence I needed about Jayce, I decided to pay him a visit. I think Kynan knows I won't kill him, but he insisted on coming with me. Kynan has my back though, and he didn't come to stop me from doing something I would regret. Despite his warning me against doing so, he really came to help me hide the body in case I lose my cool.

  That's a good bud right there.

  I walk up to the trailer, scanning the windows, but they're all covered with lowered blinds from the inside. Up three rickety wooden steps and then I knock on the door.

  Either Jayce has no worries or he's just plain stupid--the latter, I'm thinking--but the door swings open wide without any hesitation. The first thing I notice is that his eyes flare wide with shock. I take him in quickly, gathering just the barest details to assess the situation. He's gotten fat for sure. And sloppy. He's wearing a white t-shirt stretched over his belly with food stains on it. It's like he tried to dress up the look by putting on a blue-and-white checked shirt over it that he's left unbuttoned, but the shirt is wrinkled and has a rip at the shoulder. He's wearing khaki pants that are a size too small, but you can tell he's not bothered to buy anything different because he doesn't care how he looks.

  Fine capillaries spread out over his reddened nose. The smell of beer on him is strong even though I'm still on the steps and he's inside. It confirms his drinking problem.

  This is not the man who betrayed me with Michelle.
I can't even see any of the man who used to be in peak physical shape while he was in the military and then working at Jameson Group.

  "Jesus," I mutter as my gaze comes back up to him. "You look fucking terrible."

  I didn't mean for that to be my first words to the asshole, but they just sort of popped out. I can tell they don't sit well with him because as he starts to shut the door in my face even as he says, "Asshole."

  My hand shoots out. I push the door so hard he loses his grip on it, and it crashes inward. With two steps, I'm in the trailer.

  Jayce's eyes now widen with fear. He may have changed, but I haven't. I still tower over him by a good four inches, and I've taken excellent care of my body. I'm probably in better shape now than I was in my twenties when I first kicked his ass and we were more evenly matched.

  "You need to get the fuck out--"

  His words cut off as my hand slams into his throat and my fingers grip hard. I push him back across his dingy living room, turning him slightly so he doesn't run into his nasty-looking couch covered in patches of duct tape to hide the rips, and slam him into the far wall. He doesn't even bother to bring his hands up to defend himself or remove my hand, but then again, I'm not gripping him hard enough to cut off his air supply.

  Just hard enough that he gets my message. "Where's the money Trista brought you?"

  Again, not sure if he's stupid or what, but Jayce smirks at me and says, "It's gone. Spent it all."

  This does not satisfy me so I tighten my grip, pull him away from the wall, and then slam him viciously back into it. His head hits the paneled wall, the smirk disappearing.

  "Where's the money?" I calmly ask again. "And you know better than most what I'm capable of, so think carefully before you give me that bullshit."

  "Why?" he asks with a sneer. "You going to take it back? Renege on the favor you owed me?"

  I respond by landing two swift upper-cut punches to his stomach, just below his breastbone. I was aiming for three but he was doubling over, gasping and dry heaving by the second punch. I haul him straight again by my hold on his throat and pin him to the wall. His face is tinged green, and I'm not surprised. Punching someone there with enough force can cause vomiting.

  Jayce's eyes cut sharply left, and he gives a slight tilt of his head toward the hallway.

  "In my bedroom," he wheezes.

  Pulling Jayce away from the wall, I spin him toward the hallway and give him a hard push. He stumbles and rights himself before turning to look at me.

  "Go get it," I tell him.

  "It's mine," he says as he tries to straighten all the way, but he can't because he's probably got major spasms running through his stomach. "You agreed to twenty-five grand as part of the favor you owed me."

  "No," I say slowly as I walk toward him. He starts backing down the hallway. "I promised Trista twenty-five in exchange for working for me for thirty days, but only when I thought she owed that amount to a loan shark. Now I find out it was her brother who loaned her thirteen grand from money he got from a loan shark, and he's gouging her so he can repay it and make a little money too."

  Jayce's eyes go round with surprise that I know this information. His mouth opens and closes like a gasping fish out of water, but no words come out.

  "Go get the money," I tell him again, and I'm prepared to kick his ass all the way down the hall if he doesn't move. Fortunately for him, he turns around and ambles that way.

  Because I don't trust the man as far as I can throw his fat ass, I follow. He'd be the type to pull a weapon on me if he's got the figurative balls to do it, but I'm thinking not. This guy is pathetic.

  I watch as he enters his bedroom, which has dirty clothes all over the floor and just a battered old blanket on the bed with no sheets or pillow. He goes to the closet and reaches up to a shoebox on the shelf.

  "Stop," I command, and he goes still. "Give me the box."

  "What?" he says as he turns slowly and hands it over. "You think I got a gun in there or something?"

  "I sincerely hope not," I tell him candidly. "Because if you do, that means you were going to pull it on me and I'm going to beat the living fuck out of you if so."

  "The money's in there," he grumbles.

  When I flip the top off, there's an envelope with a small stack of cash in it. I take it and toss the box on the floor. "How much is left of it?"

  Jayce glares at me. "All of it."

  "I don't believe you," I say as I throw the envelope on the bed. "Count it out. And if you are one penny short of ten thousand, it's going to hurt."

  "Fine," he snaps at me. "I spent about a thousand of it."

  Nodding, I pick the envelope up and jerk my head toward the door. "Back in the living room."

  Jayce doesn't argue with me, but I can feel the rage vibrating off him. I follow him through the hallway, and then give him a hard push toward the couch. "Sit."

  Jayce glares at me over his shoulder, but he turns and sets his bulky frame on the couch.

  "Trista is no longer working for me," I tell him as I take a position near the door. "She didn't fulfill her contract."

  "That fucking bitch," Jayce growls.

  My voice is low and filled with menace when I say, "Talk about her like that again, and I'll cut your balls off and make you eat them."

  Jayce's mouth snaps shut.

  "Now I want you to listen, and listen well, because this is the only warning you will ever get from me." I take a few steps toward him, and his head tilts up to look at me. "I'm paying off the loan in full, and then you and I are square."

  Jayce's eyes sparkle with opportunity. "That will work. You give me the money and I'll go pay it off today."

  I react so fast Jayce doesn't know what hit him, but it's the back of my hand as I smack him hard across his face. It's not enough to knock him silly, but it stuns him.

  "Do you think I'm fucking stupid, Jayce?" I ask him calmly. He just stares at me with wide eyes as his hand covers the spot on his cheek. "I know you were charging Trista more than what you owed to the shark, so I'm going to hand the correct amount over to him. And then, as I said, you and I are square. Agreed?"

  He doesn't answer me at first. I can practically hear the wheels grinding in his head as he tries to figure a way to make something out of this. The way it's turning out for him, he's not getting anything from the favor I owe him.

  Finally, he gives me a short nod. "Agreed. Now get the fuck out of my house."

  I look around with disgust. "Not much of a house."

  "Hasn't been since Michelle left," he mutters with a slight whine to his tone. I had no intention of bringing her up because there's nothing to say, and I don't even experience an emotion at all over her name. I have no clue why they broke up. Don't care why they broke up. It's pathetic if her leaving is what caused him to turn out this way. But I have more important things I care about so I'm moving on from that.

  "Just leave," Jayce says as he flings his hand toward the door and leans his head back on the couch. I get it... he's having a shitty day.

  Going to get shittier.

  "Stand up," I command.

  His eyebrows draw together. "What for?"

  "You hit Trista," I tell him as I set the envelope on a tiny table near the door. "You're going to pay for it. Now stand up."

  Jayce just blinks at me as if I'm crazy.

  "I'm in a generous mood, Jayce. I'm even going to let you defend yourself. Now get the fuck up."

  He may be a slovenly pig nowadays, but he apparently still has some grit left inside as he stands up to face my wrath. "Let's do this."

  Five minutes later, I walk out of the trailer, money held tight by bleeding knuckles. Jayce got three good hits on me, but I left him on the floor with a broken nose, some missing teeth, and bruised kidneys. He's going to be pissing blood for a while.

  I left him conscious because I wanted his assurances he'd never hurt Trista again. I wanted to demand he stay away from her, but I can't do that. He's her brother and de
spite how despicable he is, I can't impede on a relationship if she wants one with him.

  But he'll be on good behavior because I was very careful and exact in explaining what I'd do to him if I found out he so much as looked at her wrong.

  When I climb into the Range Rover, I hand the envelope to Kynan. "I've got to get some more cash, but I want you to pay off the loan shark Jayce got the money from."

  Kynan blows out a breath of disbelief that I'd do that. "By that, I take it he's still alive in there?"

  I nod as I start the engine, looking at the trailer for a moment. "My debt to him has been repaid. He's nothing to me now."

  "And Trista?" Kynan asks as I put the car in reverse.

  Throwing my hand over his headrest so I can turn in my seat to look behind me, I give Kynan a brief glance. "What about Trista?"

  "You have to fix that shit with her," Kynan says as I back out of the dirty driveway.

  I shift into drive, hit the gas, and head back into the city. "There's nothing to fix. I've tried calling her and texting her. She won't respond, and frankly, Kynan... after what I did to her, I can't expect her to want to talk to me."

  "But you weren't going through with it," he points out. "She needs to understand that."

  "She knows," I tell him. "Didn't make a difference to her."

  "So you're just going to give up?" he asks me incredulously.

  I turn to look at him for a moment, then back to the road. "Fuck no, I'm not giving up. But I am going to give her a bit of space first. She was pissed and hurt, and there's no reasoning with pissed and hurt."

  "I can see that," Kynan says with amusement in his voice. "Give her a few weeks."

  "That's what I'm thinking," I tell him. "And to keep myself occupied, I'm going out with Renegade Three."

  From my peripheral, I see Kynan's head snap my way. "You what?"

  "You heard me," I say with a chuckle.

  Renegade is the name for our special-ops groups. There are four of them, and number three is leaving for a mission in the Congo. This will keep my mind occupied while Trista gets her space, hopefully loses some of her anger, and be ready to listen to me when I return. I'm prepared to beg and hound her until she gives me a chance, but I know what anger, hurt, and betrayal can do to a person. I know exactly how Trista feels right now because I've been there. This is the best course of action to take right now.

 

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