Page 34 of Kept By the Loan Shark

“He was trash, Cassie. He was a lowlife scumbag loan shark. He was never going to be the right man for you. He was only ever going to hurt you.” Kyle moved toward me again and grabbed my hands. “Cassie, you’re so special. You need a man who will worship you.”

My stomach lurched. “I don’t want someone to worship me.”

“That’s because you don’t know any better,” he insisted in the most patronizing way. “You don’t know how good I can be for you. I can show you if you’ll let me. I’ll spend hours in bed with you,” he promised. “Touching you. Kissing you. Making love to you.”

When he licked his lips, I almost hurled. “Kyle, we’re friends. I don’t…I don’t see you that way, okay?”

His expression morphed instantly. His eyes blazed with anger. “Are you fucking serious right now with this friendzone bullshit? After everything I’ve done for you? After all the heartbreak I saved you from?”

“I thought you were my friend! That you were helping me because that’s what friends do! We help each other!” My head was throbbing now, and I couldn’t figure out when everything had gone so wrong. “What about Hannah? She’s your girlfriend!”

“No, she isn’t! We had one date, and she blocked me everywhere. Stupid, stuck up cow!”

“Why did you lie about dating her?”

“Are you kidding me? All of you foids crave a man already in a relationship with another female. I knew I had to play your game to get you to see me as someone worthy of your attention.”

“Foids? What does that even mean? And I don’t want to date someone who is already in a relationship! I’m not into cheating!”

“Hagen is,” he snarled cruelly. He tugged his phone out of his pocket, tapped the screen and then threw it at me. “Look at him. He didn’t even make it three days after walking out on you before he was throwing money at whores.”

I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t stop myself. I covered my left eye so I could focus more easily and stared at the screen. The photos were dark, but the flash of neon stage lights illuminated Hagen’s familiar profile well enough for me to recognize him. He was sitting next to well-known monster and strip club owner Besian Beciraj. He had his suit jacket off and his sleeves rolled up, showing off his muscular forearms. There was a glass of what I knew was his favorite bourbon sitting in front of him.

I hesitated before thumbing through the photos that followed. The women on the stage were gorgeous. Lush curves and sex appeal that I would never manage.

When I reached a photo of Hagen on a velvet sofa with a woman gyrating on his lap, I almost lost it. She was incredibly beautiful, and even though he wasn’t touching her, he was still crossing the line. His expression was lazy and relaxed, one I had only seen once before when he had gotten drunk during a card game with Besian and some of their underworld friends.

Stamping down the humiliation washing over me in a burning wave, I threw the phone back at him. “Were you following Hagen?”

“I had to,” Kyle insisted. “I knew you would want him back. You’re weak, and you don’t know what’s best for you.”

I gawked at him, wondering how I had been so blind. Taylor had been right along. He was Creeper Kyle. “You’re a psycho.”

“I’m a psycho? Well, I’d rather be a psycho than a little slut who spread her legs to pay off her brother’s gambling debts!”

Swallowing hard, I tried to ignore the sting of his accusation. “Maybe I am a little slut, but I’ll never be your little slut.”

Refusing to spend another second in his presence, I grabbed my crumpled cup of coffee and left. I walked as fast as I could, ignoring Kyle as he yelled hurtful obscenities at me. When I couldn’t hear him anymore, I stopped under a lamp post, threw my ruined cup in the trash and pulled my phone from the pocket of my hoodie. For a moment, I considered calling Taylor but she had already done so much to help me. I wasn’t going to drag her into this shit show. Instead, I opened the Lyft app and managed to order a ride while covering my left eye.

The late model Kia Soul pulled up to the sidewalk where I had arranged to meet a few minutes later. Thankful the driver was a woman, I relaxed in the back seat and held it together through banal chitchat as she drove me home. When I finally made it inside my apartment, I locked the door and erupted in tears, sliding down the door in a crumpled heap of sadness and embarrassment.

My phone started to ring, and I ignored it, afraid that it was Kyle calling to harass me. When it rang the second time, I pulled it out of my hoodie and glanced at the screen. Even with double vision, there was no mistaking the smiling face of my brother. Desperate for someone I could trust, I answered the video call. “Ronnie!”

His smile faded instantly. “Cassie! What’s wrong?”

“Ronnie, it’s all ruined. It’s all a mess. I don’t know what to do anymore.” Sobbing, I leaned back against the door and told him everything.

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