Page 5 of Angel's Fantasy

Angel

I lookedat the clock and let out the deep breath I’d been holding.

In five minutes, it would be one in the afternoon—an hour past the latest deadline I’d given Calvin, which was two weeks after the original deadline.

I shook my head. Some guys just never learned.

Normally, Calvin and the rest of the guys we played cards with had a gentleman’s agreement when it came to our gambling debts. Some weeks we’d be up, some weeks we’d be down, but no matter what happened, we’d always settle up by the time poker night rolled around again.

We didn’t have to worry about it, and we didn’t have to explain it—that’s just how we did things.

Except for Calvin.

He had a reputation for being down more often than he was up, and every one of us had let some of his smaller debts go on occasion, because that was just good karma. It’s what guys did.

Not this time, though. Calvin owed me ten grand, and after weeks of excuses and broken promises, my patience had run out.

Today was the day he’d have to pay up, one way or another.

I just hoped, for his sake, that he didn’t try anything stupid. I left the window where I’d been pacing and crossed the room to pull my Glock from under the couch cushion before tucking it into the waistband of my slacks.

I might be hoping for the best, but I was prepared for the worst. I’d learned over the years that when a man is cornered, there’s no telling what he might do—no matter how badly that might end.

With a heavy sigh, I put on my tailored jacket—black, for business—and took one last look across the courtyard.

“Time to pay the piper, friend,” I said aloud. “I hope you’re ready.”

I walked the short distance across the courtyard from my condo to Calvin’s, silently dreading the confrontation that was about to take place even though I was careful to keep my features blank and emotionless—another survival skill I’d honed well over the years of side hustles and shady business partners.

There was no part of me that wanted to do this, but that didn’t change the reality that I had to. I might like Calvin as a friend, but I couldn’t let him take advantage of me. All the other guys we played cards with knew the situation, and it wouldn’t take long before they started to think I was weak.

When that day came, I might as well open my wallet and leave town. My business dealings in Miami would be finished if nobody respected me.

If nobody fearedme.

So, by the time I was standing in front of Calvin’s door, I had made peace with what I had to do. Hopefully, he’d pay his debt quietly and we could both go about our day as if nothing had happened. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to rough him up—or worse.

But those hopes didn’t mean that I wasn’t prepared for whatever I might have to do, no matter how distasteful.

I knocked the same way I’d been knocking every day for years—three short, loud raps on the door—but when first one minute passed, and then another, then another, I knew that Calvin was likely on the other side of that door pissing himself.

He knew what day it was, and how much time had passed. He knew our agreement.

He knew this wasn’t just a social call.

And when he finally answered the door, head down and unable to make eye contact, I knew one more thing for certain.

He still didn’t have the money.

“Good, um—” Calvin swallowed hard, finally looking up to meet my gaze. “Good afternoon, Angel. How’s everything going?”

For several long seconds, I remained silent, just staring at him—almost willing him to somehow prove me wrong and suddenly come up with the cash he owed me.

But he and I both knew that wasn’t going to happen, and the more I prolonged the inevitable, the weaker it made me look.

“Everything could be better, Calvin,” I said, flatly. Don’t show any emotions. This is just business. He’s not your friend right now. He can’t be. “I think you know why I’m here.”

His eyes broke away from mine for a split-second and darted to the staircase behind him. Shit. Was Bella home? I’d hoped she’d be out—in class or with friends or somewhere else—for his sake as much as my own. The last thing I wanted was for her to see or hear what might happen next.

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