Page 14 of Brutal Legacy

It was my altar to the past. My tribute to all I’d lost.

A hard bang at the door startled me. I jumped and dropped my necklace. I turned. Dark shadows cut through the light at the bottom of the door.

“Georgia? You home? Let me in!”

Bang, bang, bang.

Oh my God. Not again. Was it the end of the month already?

I backed away from the door, my sadness and worry for my father disappearing. A very real fear of the present worked through me. Jackson Howel was a local lowlife and loan shark. Tom, my dearly beloved late husband, had gone into a lot of medical debt in the end, and now that the dust had settled, I was finding out that he’d borrowed to pay that debt in less-than-ideal ways.

There was a sharp sound of metal clicking against metal, and then the door swung open. I spun, making a dash through the apartment, then a hand landed in my hair and tugged me back ruthlessly.

Howel was a small guy but strong and mean. His gold teeth caught the light from the window as he leaned over me. He’d dragged me to the floor, and my scalp was on fire. He’d ripped a good chunk out, I could just tell.

“Well, look who was home after all. You don’t inspire confidence in our payment plan, you dumb bitch, when you don’t answer my calls.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy working, trying to get the payments together,” I told him as emotionlessly as I could. Fuck, I had to fight every instinct I had to kowtow to a man like this, but I had no choice. I had no power, no influence, and I was broke as hell.

“And you need to tell me that, loud and clear… so we can think up alternatives,” Jackson snarled and twisted my hair back so hard that blood dripped down my forehead.

“I’ve got your payment,” I panted, tapping his hand, trying to convince him to let me up.

“You do?” He studied me and then smiled.

It was so greasy and cunning I shuddered.

“You should have said. I don’t like hurting paying clients.”

He held my hair for a second longer, making it clear who the boss was between us, and then released me. I fell to the side, panting.

“Get it then, now,” Jackson said.

He drew out a chair at the kitchen table and sat, watching me scramble around. Tears of pure frustration and anger threatened to push through, but I drove them back.

Fuck this guy. I wasn’t going to let him see me cry.

I went to my dressmaking dummy and reached inside the hollow interior for the envelope I’d been carefully stuffing all month. I brought it out and handed it to him.

He took it and started to count.

I crossed my arms over my chest, leaned against the kitchen counter, and watched, counting with him in my head.

“Well, look at that. It’s all here.” Jackson smiled and eyed me up and down. “I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed about that.”

“So, that’s all you need. You can leave. I’ll see you next month, right?” I strove to be strong, at least in my tone. He didn’t get to see how much he’d scared me.

Jackson studied me. “You can pay it off faster, you know, if you pay more. The way you’re going… you’re only paying off the interest.”

I swallowed. “It’s all I can afford right now.”

Jackson smiled. “Then I guess I’ll be seeing you next month and the month after… as long as we both shall live,bella.”

I stiffened at the nickname. Jackson was connected to some low-level Mafia thugs in the area. I didn’t know much of anything about them, except that since Tommaso had died, they’d made my life a living nightmare.

After Jackson left, with much swagger, lewd glances, and promises to be back next month, I locked the useless door and sank down on the floor.

Fuck. What was I going to do? Jackson was no financial genius, but it didn’t take one to know I wasn’t paying off Tom’s debt fast enough. I’d been to the cops, and they couldn’t do anything about it. I either had to pay up or run. Leaving everything I’d worked for in LA made me feel like my life up to now had been a waste of time. Sure, it wasn’t much, but the small life I’d piecedtogether for myself from the tattered remains of my dreams mattered to me. It was all I had to live for.

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