It was the banging on the door that woke Gabe up. His alarm clock went off over an hour ago but he trained himself long ago to forget the sound and sleep through the blare until the battery of the phone died in the attempt and he was still in his peaceful slumber. So when he woke up that morning he knew it had to be from something else entirely. Hannah was at work, besides, she never once forgot her key and never stopped reminding him every time he called to ask her to let him in. So whoever was banging wildly on the door was not his sister. His next thought was perhaps Mrs. Jerry from next door was coming by to complain again. They hadn’t had a party at the house in months but that wouldn’t stop her from finding something to bitch his ear off about.
The pounding continued and he fumbled out of his bed, low to the ground from the lack of bedframe and box spring. He walked over the hardwood floor of his bedroom, careful to miss the places where splinters stuck up and out of the boards with a bit of a vengeance. He’d once gone to the emergency room with a shard of wood lodged in his foot and Hannah never let him live it down, telling him constantly to wear socks when walking around in there. He forwent her advice and walked out of the room to the front door where the pounding continued.
“Alright, alright. I’m on my way,” he said through a yawn. He was dressed still only in his boxers, a breeze at his crotch told him the flap was open but he didn’t care. Maybe it would scare off Mrs. Jerry for a while.
But it wasn’t Mrs. Jerry at the door. He was staring face to face with a man he knew well. Ben Andrews was staring down at him from his six foot two inch height with glaring, dangerous eyes. He looked every bit the threat he liked to pretend to be when they were at bars together. Gabe could smell the richness of the leather coming off the branded and patched vest he was wearing displaying the Satan’s Knights insignia. There was a jangle of metal from all the chains that were woven into the fabric as he took it upon himself to step into the room without invitation.
“Uh—”
“We need to talk,” he said dangerously, closing the door behind him. Gabe would have suddenly given anything for it to have been Mrs. Jerry waking him up. “You owe me money, little man.”
Gabe could have sworn he felt his knees downright shaking but prayed that Ben didn’t. Suddenly the breeze at his crotch felt more like total vulnerability. He’d heard stories of Ben Andrews taking some rubber bands and a pocket knife to men’s balls and then keeping them as trophies. He instinctively pulled his legs closer together but refrained from placing his hands over the vulnerable area, to keep Andrews from getting ideas. He backed up until it was nothing but a wall behind him and Andrews in front of him.
“Hey man, how are you?” he asked, trying to force something casual out of a clearly dangerous situation.
“Waiting for that money you promised last week, you sure are the shittiest gambler I’ve met,” he said. “You think you’d learn. It’s not for everyone, kid.”
“Everything’s got one of those Bell curves you know,” Gabe chuckled without humor and without courage.
“Not the best attitude to have where money is involved.”
“Yeah, I know. Trust me, I’m learning my lesson man. I just need a little more—”
“If you’re about to ask me for more time, you’re out of your completely fucked up mind,” Ben said, stepping even closer to him. “You’ve owed me this money for over a week now and I have my own bills to pay. So you either have it now, or we’re going to have a very serious problem.”
This was it, this is how he was going to go. He was going to die because some bully on a bike showed up and decided to punch the shit out of him until his heart stopped because he couldn’t pay him back all he money he owed him. He’d hoped to die in some cool way like at the top of Mount Everest or in a plane crash or in space or some other crazy shit. Instead, he was going to be torn limb from limb by some back water biker.
“Hey, Gabe I forgot my—what the hell?”
Hannah was home. Gabe didn’t know whether that was a relief or a whole new set of issues to deal with. She always stopped home on Thursdays to change from her work clothes into something for class. There she was, in the middle of her brother about to be murdered by a professional killer, looking at the pair of men like it was some late night comedy skit gone wrong.
“Who’s this bitch?” Ben asked, thumbing behind him to point to Hannah. She glared.
“My sister,” he said.
“Tell her to go into the other room, I’m willing to make a deal with you.”
Gabe looked at his sister with pleading, wide eyes. She was glaring at the whole situation, clearly unaware of the real danger of it all. She knew he had a gambling problem, once or twice she’d cleaned him up after he’d been roughed up a little too much by guys outside a bar. But she figured it was some kind of horse play, some boys who got a little too eager at the chance of laying into a kid and exerting some power. This was something entirely different. Ben Andrews wasn’t some high school football captain repressing inner emotions by beating up on someone weaker than him. He was a dangerous, terrifying man.
She walked away, nonetheless. Gabe knew it wasn’t because she was told to, but because she had to get changed for class. She had a way of not caring what he got up to unless it concerned her. She was out of the room, rolling her eyes, and Gabe was sweating bullets while Andrews stared at him.
“You don’t have my money, that’s fine,” he said a little too kindly. Gabe thought he might pee himself. “We can do this another way.”
“Sure, yeah, whatever you need,” he said against his better judgement.
“So the girl…”
“My sister,” he coughed out.
“Right. You want more time?”
“Yes.”
“How long do you need, kid?”
“A week? Maybe less. I’ll get it to you I swear I just—“
“Calm down my man. There’s no need to panic. I can be incredibly understanding when I need to be,” he said. “I’ll give you that extra week, because I’m so nice. To make sure you actually get me the money this time, I’m going to take some collateral from you.”
“Uh sure. Like a credit card?”
“We’re not talking about bar tabs here.”
He was dangerous again. No one was ever so skilled at playing good cop-bad cop before, Gabe was sure of it.
“What is it you want?”
“Your lovely sister. She comes with me. You get her back safe and sound when you’ve paid me the money. We got a bargain?”
Oh fuck.