Chapter 9

Wednesday 4.47pm

Brooke

My car is starting to fog as I squint against the sunlight peeping through the clouds. Two feet from the bank, I’m too anxious to get out of my car and make my way inside.

People are wandering around the plowed streets. Rugged up, thick scarves, gloves and snow boots aplenty. The stores are open for the first time since the blizzard drove everyone inside.

Refinancing was the only solution I could come up with. I can’t sell, it would take too long, and it would break my heart, but if this works, and there’s enough equity, I can pay off Nate’s debt and not have to worry.

I tap my fingers on the steering wheel, stomach knotted, and raw from nerves.

I have no idea how much Aunt Jane paid off her mortgage, Dad took care of all the legal stuff, and I wasn’t exactly in the right headspace to pay attention or ask questions when I took ownership.

I just wanted somewhere affordable and private to lick my wounds and hide away from the pitying looks of my family and friends.

If the mortgage still left owing is higher than I think, I’m completely out of options.

There’s no point thinking about Carter, or his family. Not yet. It may not come to it.

I steel myself for bad news and switch the engine off. It takes me another couple of seconds of psyching myself up before I have the courage to face the bank manager.

The snow is still thick on the ground, so my boots sink in making my walk less than graceful as I enter the bank.

As usual, I receive a few looks as I approach the front desk. My cheeks heat as an old woman standing at the counter stage whispers to her daughter. “Good Lord, she’s the spitting image of Mad Jane.”

I grimace and try to ignore the one thing I hate most about now living in a small town.

I can’t imagine how Carter found it. A gorgeous single man moving here would have caused all kinds of upset.

When my thoughts bounce back to him, I have to mentally slap myself.

I clear my throat as the middle-aged receptionist dressed in a turtleneck smiles brightly at me. “Can I help you?”

My eyes flick to the small office at the back. “I need to speak to the bank manager. It’s about the mortgage I inherited.”

She nods eagerly. “Oh, yes! Brooke Madison. Jane Madison’s niece. Take a seat; Bruce is just on a call. He won’t be long.”

I can’t help but smile back at her. I keep forgetting local banks run a little differently.

In the city, I’d have been told to make an appointment and have to sweat it out. Or worse, I’d be talking to an automated call center and near tearing my hair out trying to get put through.

I take a seat and pick up a magazine, idly flicking through the pages to try to calm my raging anxiety.

When the words start to blur, and I’ve read the same sentence three times about a vapid celebrity, I give up and put the magazine aside just as I hear the door open to the back office.

Bruce Thomas, the bank manager, sends me a nod as he strides towards me, clad in a grey suit, too tight around his belly and chest.

I rise and accept his extended hand. His chubby fingers pump my hand vigorously making his jowls wobble. “Good timing, I just had a cancelation. Come on in.”

There’s nothing in his demeanor that should be increasing my anxiety, but my palms are clammy when I take a seat, and he closes the door. “What can I do for you?”

I fold my hands in my lap and swallow. “I was wondering if I can refinance the house Aunt Jane left me.”

His eyebrows rise, but he turns to his ancient computer monitor and taps at the screen. “You have your ID? Bank account number?”

I nod and open my purse, heart speeding as I hand over everything to prove I am who I say I am.

He copies everything painfully slowly, one finger typing as I try not to fidget in my chair.

Finally, his screen beeps at him, and he picks up a pen to tap against the screen. “Hmm. I thought as much. Jane signed a low rate mortgage for a three-year term before she died. Ten months are remaining. So, you do have the option of stretching the payments out longer and at a lower rate, but you’d be liable for break fees.”

I lean a little closer, trying to peer at the screen. “How much are the break fees?”

He taps a few more times. “Seven thousand. Give or take a few dollars.”

All my hope flows away on a wave of hopelessness. “Oh,” is all I can say.

His eyebrows join together as he frowns. “You could take out a personal loan and use the house as security, but I seem to recall there was an issue with your credit rating?”

Familiar humiliation mingles with the ice spreading through my body. “That’s not an option.”

Thanks to Nate buying a big-screen TV on a credit card I never used, my credit rate is shot.

He pulls out a pamphlet with the local realtors’ logo on it and runs a finger down the glossy paper. “Well, the market is slow this time of year but if you’re looking to sell?”

I shake my head so fast my hair flies around violently. “No. I don’t want to sell. I just needed some money in a hurry, that’s all.”

He leans back in his chair and places his hands over his round belly. “Ms. Madison, may I be frank?”

I’m too overwhelmed to do more than nod weakly. He frowns even harder at me as he leans closer to me.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news. But if you are unable to meet the mortgage payments, the bank can and will foreclose on the property and sell it in order to recoup its money.”

I flinch, but he carries on, not unkindly. “Is there an issue with meeting the next payment? Your Aunt refinanced at a very low monthly rate—”

I nod and cut him off. “I’ll meet the payment. I just need to do some shuffling around of a few things. It’s taking more money than I estimated to renovate.”

It’s such a blatant lie; I have to force a smile to convince him as I rise from my chair. “Thank you anyway.”

He hands me back my ID and bank card. I’m sure I catch a note of sympathy in his voice when he shows me to the door. “Sorry I couldn’t help.”

I keep the smile plastered to my face as I walk back out the door. My footsteps are heavy as I plod through the snow back to my car.

Cold seeps through my body that has little to do with the frozen air I’m breathing in.

I slide behind the wheel, numbness creeping over me as I stare at the coffee shop Carter assured me my food was better than.

I chew my lip as more thoughts of him bang painfully around in my already addled brain.

With nothing to do but dwell in my misery alone, I slide out of the car again and cross the street.

I tell myself I’m only visiting the coffee shop so I can procrastinate calling my folks for a little while longer.

But when I step inside, I’m almost glad to see Andy sitting alone drinking a cup of coffee.

I hover at the opposite chair until Andy notices me. His smile is uncertain as he gestures for me to sit. “Morning. Nice to see the sun, eh?”

I don’t even know if I’ve nodded when he leans forward, an almost identical expression on his face as the bank manager. “Everything okay? You’re lookin a little…out of sorts?”

Since I’d rather not have a breakdown in the coffee shop, I blink back my tears and ask the question that won’t stop banging around in my head. “Do you know much about Carter’s family?”

Andy doesn’t look as surprised as I thought he would. But he does slide a look around at the small number of customers sitting nearby.

When his eyes land on my face, it’s obvious I’ve made him uncomfortable. “Why? He mention them to you?”

I press my lips together, unsure of what to say. Andy stares at me while my answer comes out in a rush of breath. “Sort of.”

He slowly nods, forehead creased as he frowns down at his coffee. “Hmm. Well, I’m not sure I have anything to add. Carter’s business is exactly that. His.”

Heat flares across my cheeks at the reminder I have no right to probe Andy or anyone else regarding Carter’s background.

I push back from the table, and by sheer will manage to find a convincing smile. “Sorry, of course. I was just curious. We left things…ah. Anyway. I should go.”

Andy’s eyes pop a little, but he doesn’t stop me as I do an about-face and hurry back out.

Hot tears are brewing, humiliation, and despair washing through me as I step outside into the freezing air.

My breath mists as I stalk back to my car, feeling stupid, desperate, and ridiculously alone.

I’m about to yank the door open when I hear someone call my name. Andy waves at me from across the street.

I pause, blinking rapidly to fight the moisture close to spilling down my cheeks. He crosses the road quickly, eyes locked on me as he stands beside me on the near-empty street.

He jams his hands into his jacket pockets as he checks no one is nearby. “Look. It’s obvious something happened between you and Carter. That’s nothing to do with me, you’re both grown-ups, but if you’re asking me to give you details about him, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

He shifts his weight while my trepidation only increases at the level of concern on his ruddy face.

Andy looks at me, pointedly. “Now, I’m not going to meddle in his affairs or yours, but I will say that Carter hasn’t even looked at a woman since he arrived here a year ago.”

My eyebrows shoot upward as a tiny amount of pleasure permeates the desolation filling me.

Andy glances down the street and raises his hand to wave to someone. His expression is serious when he returns his gaze to me. “He doesn’t talk about where he came from. What I do know is that he was trying to leave all that behind him and build himself a life here.”

I swallow thickly. “You don’t know anything about his past?” I ask quickly.

Andy exhales a puff of white breath. “Nope. And until now I hadn’t wondered.”

My despair only swells as Andy dips his chin and gives me a tight smile. “I need to go. Let me know when your old man is planning on coming back for a visit. Be good to catch up.”

I nod weakly and slump against my car as he hurries away from me. I run a hand over my face and pull my shoulders back as I get in the car with as much dignity as I can fake.

I came to Rover’s Retreat to get away from my problems, to find a safe place to figure out how not to make the same mistakes again, and instead of finding the peace I needed, everything I ran from, all the mistakes I made with Nate, have followed me here.

I could blame Carter. I could blame Nate. But deep down, beneath the surface, I know it’s high time I admitted that I’m to blame for everything that’s happened to me.

I slam the door too forcefully and buckle myself in. I can’t just sit here and let things continually happen to and around me.

If I’m the reason they keep happening, I need to take ownership of that and fix things.

I can’t expect Carter, my parents, the bank manager or anyone else to make this all go away. Whether I like it or not, this is now my debt and my responsibility.

With that in mind, I pull out into the snow-covered streets and turn the wheel so I’m headed for the only gas station in town.

***

Thursday 6.18pm

Carter

I take another gulp of my Jack and Coke as I check the spreadsheet against the pages of the old-fashioned ledger Jonas still insists on using.

If I thought I could get away with it, I’d set the ledger on fire and delete the contents of the entire hard drive. But Jonas has gotten even more paranoid in my absence, and now backs everything up daily and uses a password so that won’t work.

From where I sit behind his desk, I can hear the bar starting to fill. Now that the working day is over, it’ll be stuffed to overflowing with lower-class workers. Half of which probably owe Jonas money and are probably within the pages of the ledger I’m studying.

Business is even worse than I’d heard. If the dick that replaced me is enforcing payments, he’s doing a shit job of it.

A third of regular borrowers have missed payments. Jonas is losing his grip. I should be happier. But I know how he works, he’ll get his new enforcer to target the most vulnerable first.

My stomach twists into knots as I find name after name of poor saps desperate or stupid enough to take a high-interest illegal loan out with Jonas Quinn.

What’s more sickening is the accompanying information relating to family members Jonas can coerce or manipulate into prostitution so he’ll earn some of his money back.

It makes me sick that I’m back here again. I told myself I’ve never come back unless it was to bury Jonas and dismantle his business.

I’m considering walking out when my eyes land on the loan I was searching for and the reason I’m here when I don’t want to be.

Name: Nate Jessep Loan Amount: 30K Security: Brooke Madison and home.

Brooke’s photocopied license is even attached along with the current resale value of her house and land. Nate did everything but place a target on Brooke’s forehead. As far as I’m concerned, he may as well have.

“Fuck,” I spit at the words. Thirty K is too much for Jonas to forget about. Under five, I could have beaten the shit out of Nate Jessep, broken a few bones and convinced Jonas to drop it.

I could have cleared my savings account and paid his debt and gone back home to my quiet life and more importantly, to Brooke.

But with that much money borrowed, and the interest rate compounding each day, Jonas will send my replacement to Rover’s Retreat, to Brooke’s house and would in all likelihood wreck every last plan I made to settle there permanently.

I shove the book away from me, fury building at the way Brooke has been named as security or in Jonas’ language ‘property’.

Blind rage is starting to build until the pressure becomes almost intolerable. I push back from the desk, fists balling at my sides as I start to pace the length of the stuffy office.

I have to find a way to fix this. Jonas still doesn’t trust me. He’s paranoid enough to suspect my motives. And he’d never understand I met a woman so my options are narrowing by the second.

When the door opens, and Eloise appears, I’m so tightly wound up I’m relieved to hear a scuffle outside.

She pulls a face at me, probably wondering why I look so angry. “Oh, um, Kurt has the night off. Jonas wants you to—"

I don’t even wait for her to finish her sentence. I know what Jonas wants. And the timing couldn’t be more perfect.

I’ve laid as low as I can since arriving. It’s time the enforcer put in an appearance and reminded Jonas why he needs me and not some weak substitute.

I push the door open and squint into the smoky haze to locate the troublemakers stupid enough to cause a problem right under my nose.

With thoughts of Brooke and what will happen if her dickhead ex defaults on his loan, I grab a guy about to take a swing at another and haul him up by the scruff of his neck.

The crowd parts, circling around me. I catch snatches of conversation around me over the music as I shake him hard.

He has just enough time to widen his eyes before his nose crunches under my knuckles.

The air stills around me as I keep hammering at him, making sure he’ll have permanent reminders of me.

I lose myself, nothing but the dull sound of bones crunching, red spilling down his stubbled chin.

I hit him until I’m out of breath, and my heart is thumping hard in my chest. I throw him on the floor like he’s a rag doll and swipe my forehead.

My fingers come away bloody as I catch my breath. Every eye is on me as I pull my shoulders back and step away from the bloodied wretch lying broken and groaning on the floor.

I stumble back, sweat pouring down my face as I find Jonas watching, steely-eyed, a smile on his face. “Jack, get the Enforcer a beer.”

Nausea builds in my stomach as the terrified bartender I don’t recognize uncaps a beer and places it in front of me.

Jonas chuckles as the bar starts to slowly recover from my violent outburst. A few old-timers drag my victim and bearer of all my anger to a corner. “Welcome home,” he says.

He seems so happy I did what he asks, it’s sickening. To numb the self-loathing, I took out my frustration on some loser who probably didn’t deserve that level of pain, I down my beer in two gulps and tap the bottle for another.

The skin around my knuckles is torn and bleeding. More evidence of how easily and how quickly I reverted to a life I claimed to hate.

Jonas starts talking about how much I’ll help get things back on track. But I’m barely listening. I don’t care about his plans. I came here to do one thing. And already, I’m being sucked back in.

But I’m still not in the position to do anything to help. Jonas wants proof, so I nod when he asks me to pay a visit to a couple who are late with their payments.

My heart has only started to calm when it has an entirely different reason to speed.

At the door, eyes wide, complexion washed out and looking shocked, is Brooke.