Laughing, I clap him on the back. “Admit it, Ry. You like her too. It’s cool, I don’t mind sharing, but I’m not crossing swords with you.”
He sighs and puts his hand on the door. “Can we please stay focused on why we are here?”
“Right, threats, paying the enemies. I got it.” I nod, and he jerks the door open, the relaxing music of the spa drifting to us as we step inside with our guards behind us. Ryder refused to leave Tony and Sam behind, in fact, he made sure they were with us. And this idiot still thinks he doesn’t like her.
“We should get her some girlie shit from here to make her feel more at home,” I suggest as I look around. A woman in a dress sits in the waiting room, rearranging her tits to show them off, and flashes a grin at me. I wink and lean closer. “Sorry, I’m taken, and so is he.”
She slumps but grins and looks back down at her magazine. Whistling, I glance over to see Ryder glaring at me. “We’re taken?” he repeats.
“Sure are! You think Rox wouldn’t kill any poor girl you brought back to hurt her? If you haven’t noticed, Ry, she’s as nuts as we are.”
He shakes his head, muttering under his breath about idiot brothers and annoying women as he strides over to the desk and raps his knuckles on the curved wood. “I need to speak to Sandra. Now,” he demands, face closed and angry.
The woman behind the desk shrinks, her face paling. “I-I’m sorry, sir, Sandra is busy—”
“Take a break, Izzy,” Sandra calls, as she steps from the office behind the receptionist. She’s a big girl, and I mean tall. Taller than Ryder almost. Her curvy body is encased in a tight dress and heels. Her greying hair is pulled back in a taut bun, showing off her face, which is artificially lifted. Her lips are pink and way too plump to be natural. When she sees us, her eyes narrow.
She’s a scary woman, enough so to make my balls shrivel, but that’s why we liked her.
“Gentlemen, what a surprise. Please come through and stop harassing my staff,” she snaps before turning and, with the clicking of her heels, striding into her office.
Leaning closer to Ryder, I smile and murmur, “I like women, but that one is fucking scary. Still not as scary as Rox though. Oh, I hid her bat in the weapons room.”
He ignores me and pushes behind the desk, following her into the office. I nod to Tony, who stops at the front door. Looking around at the patrons, I grin and announce, “I’m afraid the spa is closed, please leave.”
The women and men waiting start to object, so I flash my gun with a happy smile, and they soon rush for the door. Tony slams it behind them and flips the lock. Sam trails after me and stands at the office door, but I pause and let my face darken for a moment as I look between them without Ryder here. “I may not have reacted, Ryder may not have, but come close to our woman again, and it will be the last thing you do,” I warn, and I watch Sam gulp as they both nod. Then, with a happy smile back in place, I pat his chest, slip in, and shut the door behind me. “Sorry about that, it seems everyone left,” I comment with wide, innocent eyes as I roll my dice across my knuckles, leaning back against the wall.
Sandra glares at me, her legs crossed in her office chair, and her hands tight across her stomach as she waits for Ryder to speak. He sits on the sofa across from her, playing on his phone and making her sweat. Literally. I watch as actual sweat drips down her face and she shifts nervously.
She knows what she did, and now she’s wondering if she will make it out of here alive.
Ryder keeps her waiting, and I pull out my own phone and shoot a message to Garrett to check on Rox. He sends me back a picture of her curled up on the sofa asleep next to him. His face is locked in a scowl in the picture, which makes me laugh. I forward it to Ryder whose lips turn up in a smirk before he pockets the device.
He looks up at Sandra and sighs loudly. “We haven’t heard from you in a while, Sandra, which is surprising, seeing as though we own the land you are built on…so, tell me. If you aren’t paying us back, where is your money going, hmm? We already know it’s leaving your account.”
She balks at that, probably not realising we’re more than brawn. “I-I had some bills to pay and got behind,” she replies, tilting her chin back, but her eyes dart around nervously.
“Don’t lie to me, Sandra. I have been kind to you, and it would be a shame for me to have to stop,” Ryder growls, voice cold and deadly. “You came to me with an offer, not the other way around. You needed our help, we lent you the money so you could run this place…now you’re trying to break your end of the deal? Darling, it doesn’t work like that.”
“I’m sick of paying,” she blurts before swallowing. “I-I lose half my profit to you.”
“We offer less repayment interest than banks, or did you forget that? Without us, there would be no spa,” Ryder drawls. “I could, of course, revert my loan, buy this place, fire all your staff, and tear it down…or I could do even worse. How’s your husband, Sandra?”
“Leave Mike out of this,” she almost yells, making me chuckle.
“Wish we could, darling, but Mike put himself into this. Did you know he likes to gamble?” I remark conversationally, and she looks at me in confusion. “Now don’t get me wrong, it was only every now and again until I…showed him the addictive side of the city. I tried to help him.” Sighing, I shake my head. “It seems he was tired of being emasculated at home. He got drunk and told everyone.”
“You’re lying,” she snaps, so I load up the video from one of my clubs. I only show her a split second of it before pocketing it again. “So what?” she says, but I can see the hurt in her eyes.
“So it drove him to addiction, and now he owes some bad people money. If he’d come to me, I could have helped him out. But he didn’t.” I put my hands out in a fake placating gesture, an unkind smile tugging at my lips.
“Is-is he okay?” she asks, looking between us.
“He could be, it all depends on your choice, Sandra. I can bail him out, but of course that money would go on top of what you already owe us, or I can leave him in their hands. Now, they won’t kill him for the first offence, no, just break his kneecaps. But, unfortunately, as a builder, they seem rather important, don’t they?” I laugh, but it’s not a nice sound, and she shivers from it.
“You fucking evil snakes,” she hisses, as tears fall from her eyes, which she tries to swipe away, only smearing her makeup instead.
“No, darling, not evil, just businessmen. We gave you money, a job, we got you off the streets. We kept an eye on your husband, who would be dead now without us. Yes, we like money and we profit from our business deals…but everything is not black and white. It’s filled with greys, and we just happen to run the grey area.”
She turns around and slams open her drawer, scribbling a check before throwing it at Ryder. He pockets it. It’s not about the money, after all, but the fucking cheek of her not repaying us after everything we did for her. The bank would have taken her spa by now. “Thanks, madame.” I wink, reminding her exactly where we found her. Working in one of the Triad’s clubs years ago.