Kept By the Loan Shark

by Roxie Rivera

  “Can I come inside? Please,” he asked in a desperate way I had never heard him use.

  After a moment’s hesitation, I closed the door long enough to remove the chain. I opened it again, stepping aside so he could come into my apartment. Closing it, I leaned back against the door and gazed up at him. He made my cramped studio look even smaller. His head was inches from the ceiling fan, and I was glad I hadn’t turned it on earlier. His arms were long enough that he could probably touch the far wall of the living area and the kitchen counter at the same time.

  His gaze roamed over me, starting at my head and moving all the way down to my bare feet. I felt suddenly self-conscious in just my hoodie with nothing at all on underneath. Tugging at the hem of my hoodie, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m doing what I should have done weeks ago when I got that fucking message,” he said roughly. I started to ask him what message he was talking about, but he gestured to the loveseat. “Can we sit? Talk?”

  I nodded and skirted around him, not trusting myself to touch him again without breaking into a million little pieces. “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Ronnie,” Hagen explained, taking the spot next me on the small couch. “He called and told me about what happened in the park tonight.” Hagen wiped his hand down his face and sighed. “He made me realize what a colossal asshole and coward I’ve been.”

  I wasn’t going to disagree with that. “Ronnie shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m not your problem anymore.”

  Hagen grasped my hands between his and commanded my gaze. “You were never a problem to me.”

  The dam holding back my tears and emotions burst as the warmth of his hands flowed into mine. “You left me,” I wept, unable to stop myself from showing how vulnerable and hurt I was. “You left me at the hospital, and you never came back.”

  “Cassie, baby,” Hagen touched my face, “you told me not to come back. You told me it was over. You told me you never wanted to see me again, that you would never forgive me for what I took from you.”

  Still crying, I looked at him in confusion. “What are you talking about? I never sent you any messages like that.” Tugging one of my hands free, I used the cuff of my hoodie to wipe my eyes. “You didn’t answer any of my messages either.”

  “Cassie, I never got any other messages from you. Not after the break-up text,” Hagen added. “You were very clear about how you felt and what you wanted done. You told me to send all your things to Kyle’s place and—”

  “John,” I interrupted forcefully, “I never texted that to you. I couldn’t have.”

  He shifted in his seat and retrieved his cell phone, unlocking the screen and opening his text messages. “Look.”

  I took the phone from him and hesitated before covering my left eye so I could focus on the screen.

  “Cassie, is your eye still bothering you?” he asked softly and with worry.

  I couldn’t bear to look at him, to see the pity reflected in his face. Instead, I tried to make light of it. “Someone told me that I’d be cute in glasses.”

  “I’m pretty sure that someone said adorable,” he corrected with a faint smile in his voice. “Is it…will it get better?”

  “Maybe,” I said, keeping my focus on the message in front of me. “I’ll probably end up in special glasses at my next ophthalmology appointment. If that doesn’t work, she wants to try surgery.”

  Hagen gripped my hand even tighter, and I could tell he was fighting the urge to haul me onto his lap. He kept that urge at bay and waited for me to read the text I had supposedly sent. It was a huge block of text filled with everything he had described—a definite end to our relationship and ugly, ugly words about how I would never forgive him.

  “I didn’t write this, Hagen.” I handed the phone back to him. “I couldn’t have. I can barely handle looking at any sort of screen right now. Back then? In the hospital?” I shook my head. “No way. Other than a short text I sent the morning after our fight, Taylor was the only one sending and answering messages on my phone. She wouldn’t have sent that to you.”

  Wanting to prove it, I picked up my phone and opened my texts. “Here. Look for yourself.”

  Hagen did. “I never got these.” He held his phone next to mine and compared the screens. Frowning, he said, “It’s like we were having two different conversations. I wonder…”

  As he tapped at both screens, I studied his face and breathed in the familiar smell of his cologne and aftershave. Just under the surface, I caught the scent of perfume, something sweet and heavy. It was a painful reminder of where he had been and that he hadn’t been alone.

  “Someone changed my number in your phone.”

  Drawn away from my troubled, jealous thoughts, I asked, “Who would do that?”

  “Kyle,” he growled. “That slimy piece of shit.”

  My stomach flip-flopped. “Oh my God. He had my phone the night I got hurt.” My memories of that night were fuzzy but I remembered the important parts. The pieces all fit into place. “He lied to me about calling you and Ronnie. He wanted to be the only one with me at the hospital.”

  “I think it was more than that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I think he wanted me out of the way. He wanted you all for himself. After Ronnie called me and told me about the park, it all made sense.” Scowling, he added, “I never trusted him. He had a vibe—a psycho stalker vibe—and I should have said something earlier. None of this would have happened.”

  A terrifying thought struck me. “Do you think Kyle attacked Travis?”

  “Yes.” He seemed to be warring with himself about something. Finally, he said, “One of my contacts sent me a message earlier tonight. There was a body found a few weeks ago. The face was all bashed in so it took a while to make the ID.” He exhaled slowly. “It was Janine. They think she was killed the same night you ended up in the hospital. Maybe early the next morning.”

  “Kyle,” I whispered, feeling certain that it was him. My blood ran cold as I considered how much danger I had unknowingly put myself in earlier. “What if I had been in his car when he made his move? When I rejected him?” I shuddered. “He had to let me walk away because there were witnesses at the park.”

  “Jesus, Cassie,” Hagen said on a pained breath. In an instant, his arms were around me, and he hauled me closer, right up onto his lap. “I don’t even want to think about what he would have done.”

  Fighting the desperate need to burrow into his familiar warmth, I pushed away from his chest and forced him to look at me. “I saw you tonight. With her. With Vicky.”

  He seemed taken aback. “At the coffee place?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cassie, nothing happened. We met for a drink. We talked. She drove home in her car, and I went home in mine. Alone,” he emphasized. “It wasn’t serious.”

  “Like the lap dance?” I forced him to meet my gaze and instantly saw the shame and regret.

  “I was drunk, but I can’t blame it all on the alcohol. I should never have gone out with Besian and Kostya. I should have kept my dumb ass at home.” He exhaled roughly. “I was hurting, and I wanted to stop feeling that way,” he admitted. “I wanted to forget about our fight. I wanted to forget that look on your face right before I walked out like a coward.”

  “And did you forget?”

  “No.” He cupped my face in one big hand and held my gaze. “That whole night—the drinking, the dancers—it made me realize how much I had lost. It made me realize how much I loved you, but also how my actions—going after Travis and Janine like some alpha asshole—put you at risk. I didn’t kill Travis, but I do carry some responsibility for what happened to you. If I had let it go, if I’d never confronted them in the laundry room, Janine never would have suspected me of hurting him. She never would have attacked you.” He swallowed hard, and his eyes glimmered with guilty tears. “You were right, Cassie. It was my fault. I promis
ed I would take care of you and protect you. I failed you. Completely.”

  Overcome with emotion, I pressed my forehead to his. Silent tears dropped down our cheeks. “I don’t blame you.”

  “You should.”

  “But, I don’t.”

  “I wish I could take it back—the strip club and coffee with Vicky. Even though nothing happened, it makes me feel like slime that I was that close to making the worst mistake of my life.”

  “You thought we were over,” I reasoned, trying to be fair. Even though it had hurt me to see him at the strip club or with Vicky, I said, “It wasn’t cheating if we were over.”

  Hagen stroked my cheek and seemed to be working up the courage to ask, “Are we over?”

  “I don’t want to be,” I admitted tearfully.

  “But?” Hagen studied my face, clearly afraid to hear my answer.

  “But maybe this was for the best,” I said in a painful rush. “I’ll be leaving in a few months. I’ll be in grad school for at least six years—maybe longer if I do post-grad research or find a job. Your whole life is here—your house, your businesses, your friends. I can’t ask you to give all of that up for me.”

  “You don’t have to ask, Cassie.” His thumb caressed my jaw, and I leaned into his touch. “I was already planning to go with you.”

  “You were?”

  “Why do you think I went out to California to meet with those investment firms? I wanted to meet with the fund managers, but I also scouted the housing situation near the campuses you were considering.”

  I was stunned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise. I planned to go with you on your grad school interviews and make a romantic getaway of it. Book a nice suite. Wine and dine you. Take you to see some houses so you could get an idea of where you wanted us to live.”

  I sagged against him, tucking my face into his neck. “I was so worried about moving away, and the whole time you were planning to come with me.”

  “Cassie,” he murmured tenderly. His lips brushed my temple, and he held me tighter. “I’m so sorry. I should have said something sooner. I thought a surprise would be romantic.”

  “It would be,” I assured him, lifting my head and kissing his jaw. “God, we’ve been so miserable. It could have all been avoided if we had just been brave enough to talk to each other.”

  “I know,” he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “I would change it all in a heartbeat if I could.” He nuzzled his nose against mine. “You have to know, Cassie. Ever since you walked into my bar, you’ve been the only thing that matters to me. You have my whole fucking heart. All of it. It’s yours.” He brushed his lips gently against mine. “Can we start over? Or pick up where we left off in the hospital?”

  “Yes.” I kissed him, pressing our lips together and savoring the familiar heat of him. “I mean, technically, we never actually broke up. It was all Kyle manipulating us.”

  “That motherfu—,” he cut off before finishing the word. “Don’t worry about him. He’s going to get what he deserves.”

  I fixed him in place with a chastising look. “What happened to not going full alpha?”

  “I’m going to call in a favor. It’s not alpha if you outsource.”

  I decided not to ask which of his questionable friends owed that favor. “A favor that puts him in jail? Where he belongs? Not tossed into the Gulf with cement shoes?”

  “Cement shoes? What is this? Miami? 1988?” Hagen laughed that dark, rich laugh that I had missed so much. “No. I’ll make sure he ends up in jail.”

  Toying with the collar of his shirt, I asked, “Do you think he’s tracking your phone? Or your vehicle? Or both?”

  “Yes. Both,” he growled. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he took you to that coffee shop earlier tonight on purpose. Vicky asked me to meet her through a text. Maybe he’s reading them.”

  “He looked at his phone before we left the parking lot. He must have been checking to make sure you were there.” I made a face. “Taylor is going to be impossible once she finds out he really is a creep. She’s been telling me forever that he’s a ‘nice guy’ type. I should have listened to her.”

  “Your heart is so big and gentle. You always see the best in people. It’s one of the things I love about you. You’re always so optimistic and positive. It never occurs to you that people are devious dirtbags.”

  “I guess I am a little naïve,” I allowed.

  Hagen kissed me. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s what makes you so good. It’s why people love you and want to be your friend. Your big, soft heart has enough love for everyone who needs it.” He captured my mouth and gently cupped my nape. “I need it. I need you. You have to know that your love has made me a better man.”

  Seeing the truth in his eyes, I nodded. “I love you.”

  “I love you.” He smiled warmly. “Come home with me?”

  “Yes.” Letting him pick me up, I rested my head right in the crook of his neck where it fit perfectly and seemed to belong. Home with Hagen was exactly where I wanted to be.

  Chapter Twelve

  “You hungry?” Hagen asked as he pulled out of the parking lot of the apartment complex. “I can stop somewhere before we get home.”

  Ever since Hagen had arrived on my doorstep, the nauseating knot in the pit of my stomach that had been tormenting me for weeks began to dissipate. It was as if his presence and his apology had soothed away the anxiety. Had my body been trying to tell me that something wasn’t quite right with the situation? Was it my subconscious rebelling against the idea that Hagen would just leave me and not come back?

  Hungry for the first time in days, I admitted, “I’m starving.”

  “We can’t have that.” He grasped my hand and rubbed his thumb over the back of it. “Whataburger?”

  “Oh my gosh,” I said with a little groan. “That sounds so good!”

  My mouth was watering by the time we pulled into the drive-thru, and I didn’t even try to wait until we got back to his place to eat. I nibbled on the crispy fries and enjoyed the giant Dr. Pepper as Hagen navigated his SUV through the late-night traffic.

  He seemed pensive as he drove, and I waited for him to say whatever it was that was bothering him. Eventually, he asked, “Cassie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I know how much it took for you to forgive me tonight, for you to agree to let me back into your life.” He glanced at me so I could see his serious expression. “I’ll do whatever I can to regain your trust.”

  “Just be you,” I said, reaching out to take his hand. “What we went through wasn’t totally on either of us. We were manipulated by a psycho. Yes, one of us or both of us should have made an effort to track down the other and talk in person. That was our mistake. The rest of it?” I shook my head. “That’s on Kyle.”

  “I agree, but I want to make sure that you know that I’m not expecting things to go right back to the way they were. I know you might need some time to get to the point where you trust me enough for us to be intimate or for you to want to move in with me again.”

  “I sublet that apartment from a grad student Taylor knows,” I explained. “I can’t move out and leave him hanging.”

  “If you decide you want to move in with me, I’ll take care of the sublet rent. It’s the least I can do after this whole mess.”

  “I’ll think about it.” I wasn’t quite ready to jump back in with both feet. Having my own place to retreat to felt like a necessary safety net. “And, anyway, I can’t drive so I need to be close to the METRO so I can get to class and therapy.”

  “I’m more than happy to be your chauffeur, Cassie.”

  “You have a life and businesses to run.”

  “You’re the only business that matters, and my life was shit without you.” He squeezed my hand. “I mean it, Cassie. Whatever I have to do to earn back your trust, I’ll do it. Anything. Just ask, and I’ll make it happen.”

  “John,” I
murmured, thinking it wouldn’t take much.

  “Anything,” he repeated as he turned into his neighborhood.

  Wanting to tease him and lighten the serious mood just a little, I asked, “Anything like, oh, Iceland? Golden Circle? Northern Lights?”

  “I’ll book the flights to Reykjavik in the morning.”

  I laughed softly. “I can’t fly for a few more weeks.”

  “When you’re ready, you let me know.”

  I had been joking, but he was absolutely serious about taking me to Iceland. It had always been a bucket list trip for me, and the idea of sharing it with Hagen, of cuddling together under the night sky to watch the vibrant glow of the aurora borealis filled me with a happy warmth.

  When we pulled into Hagen’s driveway, there was a black Audi parked in front of the house. I glanced at Hagen, and he said, “I sent Kostya a text while you were packing your bag.”

  “Your favor?”

  He nodded and pulled into the garage. “I’ve been keeping that one in my back pocket a long time.”

  “I’m sorry you have to use it on this.”

  “I’m not.” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. “I’d pay whatever price he asked to keep you safe.”

  And he would. Of that, I was absolutely certain.

  Once we made it inside, Hagen went to the front door to let Kostya in and I took a seat at the breakfast nook. He returned with the intimidating Russian trailing behind him. I warily watched Kostya as he placed a sinister black leather bag on the island. There was something about him, something in his eyes and the way he moved, that struck fear in me. He seemed secretive and dangerous, and I wasn’t sure I ever wanted Hagen to owe him a favor.