Page 5 of One Twisted Christmas

He strips you of everything including the will to live. If the rumors are to be believed, Fabian views people as numbers. Mere dollar signs to him and nothing more.

That very man is outside my door right now. Watching me with eyes that look like they could belong to some wild animal in the Amazon jungle. There is nothing human about them. They are too empty to be.

“W–what do you want?” I whisper, placing a protective hand on my father’s tense shoulder and eyeing the gun. “Why are you here?”

“Your father knows why!”

“No, you tell me,” I say firmly, not trusting my dad to tell me the truth. Minutes ago, he tried so hard to hide this man from me and I want to know why.

“Mr. Jerkins–”

Dad quickly shakes his head. “No,” he whispers, sounding more scared than I have ever heard him. Even more scared than when he heard that he would never walk again. Back then, he flashed me a smile and made some joke about being able to park in the handicap spot. That was a scary moment for both of us but this time, he looks even more scared than he did back then. “Please don’t involve my daughter in this. Take me if you need to talk but please leave her out of this.”

"Take you? Are you out of your mind Dad?" I splutter. "It's freezing and you know how much worse you feel when it's cold."

“Don’t listen to her, just take me and we can talk about this in another location.”

"No, Dad! I need to know what is happening."

Someone clears their voice and I look up to find those blank eyes fixed on us once more. “Touching. Heartwarming, really,” Fabian says, not a shred of warmth or feeling in his tone. “I would love to stand here all day in this freezing cold and watch this heartwarming moment, but I have several places I need tobe so let’s be quick!” I watch the man slide a hand into his coat and come up with a small book. He flips a few pages before turning the book for us to see. “One hundred thousand dollars with an interest of $30,000. You were due two months ago, but you kept pushing it. I’m here to collect!”

My heart nearly stops.

I must’ve heard him wrong. Did this man just say over $100,000? My eyes drop to the book he’s still holding and I palm my mouth when I see my father’s signature. I always teased him about it and how complicated it was for someone to ever copy and yet, these men did.

They forged my father's signature and are now accusing him of borrowing one hundred thousand dollars? From a crime group? My father would never do something so dumb.

“After the scene you two put on today, I am willing to part with the interest and collect the rest at a later date.”

I wait for my father to stop him, laugh at this man, and swear to get him arrested for fraud but instead, he drops his head and the tension in his shoulders stays.

“It’s fake,” I whisper, meeting the man’s gaze. “My father would never borrow money from you let alone this much. He won’t admit it because you have a gun–”

“That I never use,” he says firmly.

“What?”

“The gun you keep glancing at, I don’t use it unless I need to. This situation is not one that I need my gun for.”

I shake my head, trying to stay on course. “Look, Mr. Lorenzo, my father did not borrow that money. Maybe you got him confused with someone else, but this is not who my father is. He doesn’t associate with…” My voice trails over and I flush,unwilling to upset these men. They might be calm now but there is no telling what they will do when mad. “This is fake.” I finish weakly.

“I have no time for this,” the man grinds, showing the first hint of impatience. “Mr. Jerkins, if you have the money then you better hand it now but if not, I want the deed to this house. Quite frankly, I don’t know why my father didn’t fucking take it in the first place for security.”

“What, no!” I cry out, shaking my head. “This was my mother’s house. It’s the only thing I have left of her.”

“It’s that, or the money,” he says and if possible, his eyes harden further. “I want your cooperation, or my men will tear this place apart until they find the deed.”

So, it seems that the rumors are true about this man seeing people as nothing more than numbers. It's evident that they weren't lying about that, but there's something else. I saw a glimmer of life in his cold, empty eyes earlier, and I want to appeal to that part of him. No matter how faint that spark was, I want to reach out to it before this man destroys the one thing my mother left us.

I notice the men behind Fabian take a step forward and I raise my hand to stop them. "Wait, please," I plead with the man. "I… can I talk to you for a second? Alone, please?"

Fabian nods once and his men stop, those dark eyes firmly fixed on mine. I fight the shudder that wracks my body and the heat that drops to my tummy the longer those eyes stay on me. I’m almost sure he’s not going to allow me a private moment, but he surprises me by nodding. “Wait in the car,” the men behind him back away and climb into the black van parked outside our home.

"Dad, you should wait inside too," I say, grabbing the back of his wheelchair and guiding him back into the house. "I'll just talk to him for a moment."

"No, Helena. I don't want you alone with that man," he argues. "You don't know their family!"

“Then why did you borrow money from them?” I ask, holding on to a sliver of hope that he’ll deny it, but he doesn’t. He simply lowers his head and apologizes but I’m not sure what to feel now. I manage our finances and know darn well that we don’t have that kind of money! “I’ll go talk to him.”

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