By the time I’ve spent what feels like an eternity searching for anomalies and turned up nothing, I’m beyond frustrated. I came up here to calm down, and all I’ve done is successfully wind myself up tighter. I feel like a coiled spring. The heavy bass of my music is beginning to give me a headache, and I switch it off, hoping for peace. I can still hear music drifting up from downstairs. It’s past closing, so I decide to go see what’s happening. The girls are all gone except for Annie and Tweet sitting at a table, talking animatedly. Zane’s wiping down the bar as Jordan loads the glass machine, singing along to the radio they have blasting. Zane looks up and smirks when he notices me.

“Ah, the bossman returns.”

He isn’t saying it to anyone in particular, but Annie and Tweet both look up and smile.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Robyn begins, “I didn’t get my bag from your bike when you dropped me off earlier. There’s nothing important in it, just a bunch of sweaty rehearsal gear, but I’m sure you don’t want it in there. Could I grab it before I leave?”

Annie immediately throws me a suspicious look. She’s known me for a long time, and also knows that I don’t like to let anyone near my bike.

“Sure, I’d forgotten all about it. Are you ready to leave now? I’ll go get it.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll come with you.” She leaps up and signals to Annie she’ll be right back. We walk in silence as she follows me out, and I can feel the others watching as we leave. Assholes.

I push open the door and step out into the cool night air. I take a deep breath; for some reason I find it harder to breathe when she’s around. I walk over to my bike to retrieve her bag when she slips, her legs disappearing from under her and kicking me hard in the ankle as she goes down.

“Shit! Are you alright?” I ask, rubbing the spot she kicked and offering her my hand.

“Well, that wasn’t embarrassing!” She laughs. “I’m not even drunk.”

“It’s slippery out here when it rains. You sure you’re okay?” I pull her up, and now we’re face-to-face and far too close for comfort. The air around us feels charged. Neither of us is speaking, just staring at each other. It’s intense, and I don’t know what I’m expecting to happen right this second, but I feel like I should maybe warn her about maintaining a good working relationship. What I really want to say is that if she doesn’t look away right now and break this spell, I can’t be held responsible for my actions. A man only has so much willpower.

She’s looking at me flustered and blushing. My head’s clouding, and now I can’t think of a good enough reason not to lean in and kiss her anymore.

The thunder of my pulse is vibrating in my ears, and everything somehow slows. I lean forward only a fraction, testing the waters, looking for a sign that maybe I’ve got this wrong, and she’s not attracted to me. She doesn’t move; I’ll take that as a good sign. My eyes fall to her lips as the tip of her tongue quickly darts out and wets them. Another good sign. I’m giving her plenty of time to move away and she’s standing fast. My resolve shatters and I give way to what I want over what is sensible, moving forward until my face is even closer. Her breath hitches and I’m sure mine’s stopped altogether…we’re so close—then suddenly, we’re not.

Annie barrels through the door, killing the moment, and we jump back like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. I should be thankful that she interrupted us, relieved that she’s saved me from making a mistake and breaking my own rules. But I’m not. In truth, I’m cursing her shitty timing.

“You ready to go, Robyn? I’ll give you a ride.”

“Sure, yeah…um, night Callum.”

I don’t have the chance to say good night back, she practically bolts back through the club and away from me. I’m left wondering what would have happened if Annie hadn’t disturbed us. Would she have let me kiss her? I look down and notice that her bag is still here, and even though I’m fully aware that it’s a terrible fucking idea, I still decide to get on my bike and deliver it to her.

I DON’T CHECK the peephole. I always check it—but this time I don’t. It’s funny how that happens. The first time you break tradition you think it’s fine, what bad could possibly come of it? That’s when the shit hits the fan. It’s like a swift kick to the stomach from the universe itself. A not-so-subtle reminder of why you always check the peephole before opening the door. There’s a solid reason behind it, and that’s what awaits me on the other side as I fling the door open in a single reckless act.

I’m expecting Annie to be standing in front of me. She dropped me off moments ago; she must have forgotten something. Only it’s not Annie. My heart sinks in my chest, and my greeting dies on my lips, the words suspended and unspoken. Mr. Carter smiles a sinister smile, sidestepping through the door and into my apartment.

“You have something for me.”

It’s a statement, there’s no question in it because there was never any room for negotiation. He’d told me he’d be here to collect and he is. And I’m not ready. I don’t have the full amount together yet.

He’s waiting for me to answer, but I’m too busy trying to formulate my next move. “I’ll just…can you wait? I have it here, I…”

The mumbling is a surefire giveaway that I’m not in a position to give him what he came for. I rummage in the drawer of the dresser I have by the door, pulling out a wad of cash and then taking the tips I made tonight from my back pocket and adding them to it. I thrust the money at him, wide-eyed and anxious because I know I’m still short.

“You’ve had enough time to get the money. You shouldn’t be so surprised to see me. I said I’d be back, and I’m a man of my word.”

My flesh crawls as he leers at me; his repulsive perusal of my body sends a shiver bolting down my spine. He’s a tall and intimidating man, wide set and hard faced. I can smell the staleness of his breath given his proximity, and I recoil in disgust. It’s in the early hours of the morning, so he’s probably been here waiting for me to return. I hate that thought almost as much as I hate Danny right now.

“I couldn’t get the whole amount. It’s a lot of money to get my hands on in only ten days, and I’m giving you literally everything that I have,” I admit. My nerves are spilling over and getting the better of me, causing me to talk at a mile a minute.

“Not good enough!” he spits out at me.

“What do you want me to do? I’m not a magician!” I fire back. My mistake is realized immediately as his eyes harden and burn with annoyance.

“You might want to talk a little nicer to me, bitch.” His hand moves at lightning speed, his thick fat fingers wrapping around my throat. Panic crashes over me, my hands fly to him as I pull and grapple at his wrist, trying to pry his vice-like grip away. My eyes water as he squeezes tighter, letting me know my attempt to stop him is futile. I’m gasping, arms flailing and legs kicking at his, as I try drawing in oxygen. The more I manage to suck in, the more my throat constricts and the tighter his grip becomes. My lungs are burning, and my head feels like it’s about to explode with the dizzying pressure of his grip.

“I…I ca…”

“What’s that? Not so fucking feisty now, huh?” He smiles, dropping his hand in amusement.

Oxygen floods my lungs, never more welcomed or tasting so good. I stagger backward a step, before bending as I struggle to take a long steady breath. Salty tears pool on the floor below me and I hate that he’s seeing me cry.

“You’re $200 short,” he says thumbing the money. ‘What am I going to tell the boss?”