I pulled my wedding band off and tossed it in a bowl on the kitchen table once I got back to my apartment.  I definitely wasn’t going to stay married to Monica.  The marriage was a sham built on nothing but her devious plans and a couple of Rohypnol pills.  I wasn’t sure what would happen when I dosed her drink, but the plan had went better than expected.  She was legally my wife and that meant she would never marry my brother.  Even if he was foolish enough to believe she was drunk and didn’t mean to marry me, he would no longer be able to look at her like the sweet little virgin she pretended to be.  I knew she wasn’t sweet and I doubted she was even a virgin.  It just seemed like another part of the ploy that she used to get my brother wrapped around her finger. 

I hoped my brother would thank me one day, but I knew he would hate me for a while.  My family might even disown me.  I grabbed a beer out of the fridge and sat down on the couch, flipping through channels on the television.  My phone lit up and I leaned over to see my mother’s number.

“Hey Mom.”  I slid my finger across the screen and put the phone to my ear.

“How could you?”  It sounded like she had been crying, but she was also very angry.  “Your brother is a wreck!”

“Monica is nothing but a gold digger.  She didn’t love Dane.  She just wanted to get her hands on his money once he signed his contract.”  I let out a sigh and leaned back against the couch.

“She was a sweet girl before you ruined her!”  My mother’s voice had a bite to it that I hadn’t heard in years.

“I didn’t ruin her.  She was ruined before any of us ever met her.”  I let out another sigh.  “I know you don’t understand it right now, but I did Dane a favor.”

“Well consider yourself uninvited to the NFL draft!”  The phone went dead.

I wasn’t going to that anyway.

***

A FEW DAYS WENT BY and things seemed to settle down.  I stopped getting angry messages from members of my family and Dane’s friends.  I hit up the strip club a few times and watched Maria dance, lusting after her as she took off her clothes for the crowd.  I was surprised I didn’t hear anything from Monica.  I expected to have a lawyer serve me with divorce papers within twenty-four hours, but it was complete silence on her end.  I didn’t really use social media, but I searched out her profile and saw that she hadn’t posted anything since before we got married.  Everything I had convinced her to load while she was wasted was gone. 

I flipped over to my brother’s profile and saw nothing but religious quotes about betrayal, love, and infidelity.  He was taking things about as well as I expected, but at least he had his faith to keep him company while he got over Monica.  I continued drinking beer and watching television until it was almost time for bed.  I picked up my phone and flipped through it as I walked towards my bedroom.  I landed back on Monica’s page and I saw that she had posted something.

“Fuck the world.  I’m done.”  Next to her message was a broken heart.

I sat down on my bed and stared at the screen for a couple of minutes before putting it on the charger and laying down.  I remembered everything about the night I spent with Monica.  When the drugs mixed with alcohol, all of her inhibitions disappeared and she was actually tolerable for once.  Her message haunted me as I tried to sleep.  If she was planning to do something stupid, I definitely didn’t want it to rest on my conscience.  I looked at my phone again and saw a few responses to her message, mostly just concerned friends, although a few of them were cruel and blamed her for what she did.  I got out of bed and put on my clothes. 

I might not give a shit about Monica, but I didn’t want her to do something stupid.  I didn’t need a coffin on my conscience, even if it was her own damn fault that she ended up in the position to begin with. 

I walked outside and got on my motorcycle.  I knew where Monica lived, because my brother had mentioned that she grew up in a pretty poor neighborhood.  It took me a while to find the mailbox in the dark, but I finally found one with Adamson in faded white paint.  There was a light on in the window, so I walked up to the front door and started knocking.

“Monica?”  I hit the door a few more times after I didn’t get a response.

“Who is it?”  I heard her voice from the other side of the door.

“It’s Grady—open up.”  I tapped the door a little lighter since I knew she could hear me.

“What the fuck do you want?”  She pulled the door open and stared at me.  Her eyes were red-rimmed and there was smeared mascara underneath them.

“I saw what you posted online.”  I pushed the door open and stepped into her house.  “What did that mean?”

“What do you care?”  She walked towards her living room and I saw several boxes lined up on the floor.

“I’m not going to pretend to feel bad about what I did.”  I followed behind her and stopped once I was standing at the doorway of her living room.  “I just don’t want you to do something stupid because your lie got exposed.”

“I’m not going to do anything stupid.”  She picked up a couple of items and placed them in the box closest to her.

“So what, then?”  I looked around the room.  “You’re just packing everything up and moving away?”

“You must be Grady.”  A voice to my left surprised me and I turned to see a man walking into the living room from the kitchen.

“Yeah...”  I tilted my head as he stepped into the light.  His face was red and swollen.

“I guess I’m your father-in-law.”  He walked up to me and narrowed his eyes at me.  “If I didn’t already feel like shit, I’d punch you in the mouth and take the ass-whipping that would probably follow.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t lay a hand on your daughter.  The marriage will be annulled just as soon as my brother signs his contract.”  The lack of reaction from the old man suggested he knew exactly what I was referencing.

“I didn’t want her marrying your brother anyway.  You did me a favor, too.”  He picked up a beer from the table and took a drink.

“Oh, hell no.”  Monica’s face flushed with anger.  “He ruined everything!”

“Monica...”  Her father dropped his head and sighed heavily.

“So why are you packing up?”  I looked around the room again.

“That’s none of your business.”  Monica quickly snapped at me with the same angry scowl on her face.

“I’m guessing it has something to do with the bruises on your face?”  I turned back towards her father.

“Don’t tell him anything.”  Monica shook her head angrily.

“Whatever.”  I sighed and waved her off.  “I don’t want to know.  I just wanted to make sure you weren’t about to do anything stupid.”

“I’m fine.”  She narrowed her eyes at me.  “You can go now.”

“Fine—I’m leaving.”  I shrugged and started walking towards the door.

I walked outside and stared at the street before throwing a leg over my motorcycle.  The street was pretty quiet, but there was a dark colored sedan parked near Monica’s house.  When I cranked up my motorcycle and my headlight illuminated the inside of the car, I saw a man duck down.  I rolled down the driveway and slowly drove by the car, staring at the man as he started to lean up in his seat. 

I recognized him.  He worked for Walter Grant, who was a fairly predominant loan shark in Las Vegas.  I recognized him because I had done a few jobs for Walter Grant over the years when I was low on money.  If he was sitting outside Monica’s house that mean that her father likely owed Walter Grant a considerable amount of money, and they thought he might skip town before the debt was paid.  If the boxes in the living room were any indication, that was exactly what they were planning to do. 

Things started to click in my head as I drove home.  Walter Grant was pretty good to people who tried to pay him back, but if her father was planning on running from the debt, it wasn’t going to end well for him.

***

I HAD NO REASON TO give a shit about Monica or her father, but when I got out of bed the next morning, I couldn’t help but think about what I had seen the night before.  Her message on social media—the boxes in her house—Walter Grant’s man watching her house.  I took a shower and after I was done, I decided that I was going to go see Monica again.  She might not know much about Walter Grant, but I felt obligated to at least warn the two of them that they were being watched.  I didn’t know how much money her father borrowed from the loan shark, but he wouldn’t have put someone on their house all hours of the night if it wasn’t a considerable sum.  I had done that kind of work before and it was usually when there was a lot of money at stake. 

I got on my motorcycle and drove over to her house.  The car that was there the night before was gone, but there was a black SUV parked on the curb next to her mailbox.  I didn’t see anyone inside, but it was definitely too nice to be parked in that neighborhood.  I parked in her driveway and saw that her front door was open.  When I got closer, I could hear shouting, which caused me to pick up my pace.

“Did you not get the message when I was here before?”  I heard a man’s voice followed by a thud, and then I heard Monica scream.

“Leave him alone!”  Monica’s voice was hurried and I could tell she was crying.

“I gave you a week and you’re trying to skip town?”  The man’s voice boomed.

“Hey!”  I pushed the door open and saw Monica’s father on the floor with a man towering over him—it wasn’t someone I recognized from Walter Grant’s crew.  “Leave him alone.”

“Who the fuck are you?”  The man turned towards me.

“Do you work for Walter Grant?”  I took a step towards him.

“Something like that.”  He chuckled and narrowed his eyes at me.  “I’ll ask again—who the fuck are you?”

“There’s a misunderstanding here.”  My eyes darted around the room.  “He isn’t skipping town.”

“He isn’t?  The boxes say otherwise.”  The man motioned to the boxes stacked against the door.

“We just got married.”  I pointed past the man to Monica.  “She’s packing up because she’s coming to live with me.  Her father doesn’t have anything to do with that.  You’re going to pay your debt, right Mr. Adamson?”

“I am.”  Mr. Adamson leaned forward and put a hand on his ribs.

“My apologies.”  The man’s face relaxed.  “Please allow me to offer my congratulations and regret over this misunderstanding.”

“Yeah...”  I took a step to the side.  “I guess you should be going now?”

“Of course.”  He smiled, but there was very little emotion behind it.  He walked out the front door and I slammed it behind him.

“Can you help me get him to the couch?”  Monica motioned for me to help once Walter Grant’s brutish employee was out of the house.

“You are the stupidest...”  I growled at her as I walked over and helped her father to his feet.  “Why the fuck would you run?  Walter Grant has never hurt anyone when they tried to make good on their debt.”

“No, he hasn’t.”  Her father grimaced as we got him to the living room and sat him down on the couch.  “Something’s different this time.  I don’t think Walter is in charge anymore.  That guy showed up a couple of days ago and said I had one week to pay my debt in full or he would start breaking my bones.”

“Seriously?”  I looked at Monica who nodded in confirmation of what her father said.  “How much do you owe him, anyway?”

“Fifty large.”  Mr. Adamson groaned.

“Fuck...”  I shook my head and sighed.

“I’ll get you some pain pills.”  Monica started walking down the hallway.

“There’s no way I can come up with fifty thousand dollars in a week.  If I can’t get away, I’m fucked.”  He looked down at the floor and put his hand on his ribs.  “Fuck, I think he already started breaking bones and the week isn’t up yet.”

“Here.”  Monica returned and put two pills in her father’s hand. 

“Thank you, darling.”  He washed them down with a beer before leaning back on the couch.

I really didn’t know what to say.  Monica’s father closed his eyes and kept his hand pressed on his ribs.  Monica took a seat in one of the chairs next to him.  I sat down across from her and stared at the two of them. 

They were in a fucked up mess.  If Walter Grant had changed his strategy and was actually going after debts, then there were going to be a lot of people all over Las Vegas struggling to come up with some quick money to pay him off.  I had never really understood his business model, but he certainly seemed to do fairly well for himself.  My theory was that he had so many debts floating at one time that just collecting a little bit on them, along with the interest he charged, was enough to make it all work out in the end. 

That no longer seemed to be the case if he was employing someone like the guy who threatened Mr. Adamson.  The guy looked like a beast who could definitely make good on his threat to turn the collection process into one that was excruciatingly painful.  I had only resorted to violence one time when I was working for Walter Grant and I didn’t enjoy it.  The man I saw standing in Monica’s living room looked like he not only enjoyed it—but thrived on it.