Page 38 of Gambler's Fallacy

I spot Earl with two women around him… and a bulky black man on the other end of the couch, leaning in.

“Earl, you’re late on payments,” the guy is saying. “I can’t supply you with more.”

Earl leans his head against one of the women. “I’m going to pay! I told you, I’ve got a whole plan. My niece’s husband… and Dad’s going to call you up soon. Any day now.”

Havoc and I walk over, stopping across from the table.

“Earl doesn’t need more tonight,” I say. “Or ever. You got a club blacklist? Put him on it.”

Earl startles and sits up. “What? You’re… Uh, Caleb’s man. What was your name?” He glances over to the other guy. “What’s his name?”

The guy rolls his eyes. “I don’t fucking know.” He eyes me. “You’re with Caleb Spade?”

I nod and fold my arms, hoping I look menacing enough to make him think twice about getting in my face. “Vortex,” I answer. “And Earl is done with all this stuff.”

“All right, Vortex, nice to meet you.” The man stands up. “My name’s Martin, and I handle a lot of security around here. And the thing is, Earl is really trying our patience. So we’re thinking, he stays here while his dear old dad, or his brother, or his nephew for all we care, gather up the cash to repay us.”

Earl starts shaking his head. “What? No. I came to give you the, um, the interest payment!”

Martin scoffs loudly. “Man, you can’t do that. We lent you a shitton of money to get you that nice fancy car and the reno on your house. You remember what it was like before, when your ex had it all? But that was seven months ago, and you want to tell us you haven’t managed to drum up enough to pay it back? You been taking advantage of our ladies here, without returning even close to ten percent of what you owe us?”

My jaw clenches. This isn’t my area of expertise at all. I’m the muscle, the debt collector; I play the role Martin is acting out right now.

No wonder Earl is pushing to get more out of Caleb. We’d known it was bad, but I didn’t think it would bethisbad. Either way, I know I don’t have enough cash to easily get him out of this. There’s probably nothing I can say or promise to make this simple, either.

“He’ll pay you back,” I say steadily. “But we’re not leaving him here.”

Havoc groans loudly, staring at Earl. “Are you kidding me? You’re from one of the richest families in the city and you had to borrow from loan sharks?” He turns to Martin. “Look, he’s a fucking idiot. Just let us take him and his family will ream him out.”

Martin shakes his head. “No can do, man. The boss was pretty clear that this was his last chance.” He assesses us both more closely. “Unless you can pony up three million dollars?—”

Three million dollars.

My vision whites out as fury runs through me. After all the shit Caleb has done for this fool, he’d gone and borrowed three million dollars from the Clubs. I’d expected ten thousand, maybe a hundred thousand. But this much?

I really should leave his ass here and hang him out to dry.

“Don’t carry that much cash on me at once,” I say with a shrug. “And he’s not worth anything to you dead. We can work on that payment plan once he’s out of here.”

“Three million?” Havoc exclaims. He goes over to Earl, grabs the collar of his shirt, and pulls him away from the two women. “We should be the ones beating you up.”

“Hey!” Earl shouts, pounding his fists against Havoc. “Stop that! I’ll tell Caleb!”

“You think Caleb’s going to give a fuck?” I ask in disbelief.

“Just for your edification,” Martin says, “He borrowed one million. But interest rates these days, they’re through the roof. I’m sure you know how it is.” He gives us a smarmy smile. “And before you complain about predatory practices or whatever nonsense, Earl signed that contract of his own volition.”

“Yeah? And how blitzed out of his mind was he when he did? On drugs you probably supplied to him?” I ask, not sure whether to be more pissed off at Earl or Martin and vacillating between the two.

“Are you telling me Leon Spade can’t pay off three million dollars?” Martin asks innocently. He shakes his head. “Man, the Spades are worse off than I thought.”

My hackles rise—and I notice that the room has slowly been clearing out. The women and partiers are gone, with only security left behind.

Great. Just great.

“Are you going to tellmethat you can’t wait a little longer to get your money?” I retort.

“We’vebeenwaiting,” Martin points out. “Seven months. And your boy Earl, he keeps giving us the runaround.” He gets into a defensive stance. “But I’ll never turn down the opportunity to mess with the Spades.”

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