Page 23 of The Broker

“Umm, no. I think there’s been a mistake. I should probably head home,” Isaac stuttered.

He didn’t know what else to say. He was fifteen. No one had prepared him for what to say if someone you don’t know made you feel uncomfortable.

He attempted to get up but was pulled back down by both men grabbing each of his arms.

“Hey. Not so fast there, sweet thing. Your uncle already took off with our cash. It’s time for you to give us what we paid for,” Martin said before leaning in and kissing Isaac’s quivering neck.

“No!” Isaac shouted, shrugging off Martin’s lips and pushing himself up off the couch with more force than before.

His heart was racing and warning bells everywhere were telling him that he needed to get out now before it was too late!

Randolf grabbed him by the waist and pulled him back down onto the couch.

Isaac landed on his back while Martin slid over to give his buddy more room.

“The fruit always tastes sweeter when they put up a fight,” the man snarled as he leaned down for a kiss.

Panic and terror set in. He had to do something, or he was done for!

Without thinking, Isaac punched Randolf in the face and quickly kneed him in the balls. The man keeled over in pain, groaning as he cupped his crotch.

“You little prick!” Martin growled, lunging at Isaac.

Isaac felt the wind get knocked out of him for a moment as someone’s arm nailed him in the gut.

This was it. He had to move. If these guys overpowered him, he would be at their mercy, and there was no telling what these two angry men would do to him.

Taking a deep breath, Isaac lunged at Martin and scratched at his face and neck. Blood and tears sprang loose from Martin. He released Isaac immediately, jumping up from the couch in pain.

Isaac kicked Randolf and scrambled to get to his feet.

“You little…” Martin growled at Isaac just before his feet got tangled in a blanket next to the couch, and the man went sprawling backward.

Isaac watched in horror as the back of the man’s head smashed into the cement edge of his fireplace. The cracking sound his head made hitting the edge would live on and haunt Isaac in his dreams for the rest of his life.

Martin’s eyes rolled upward as a thick pool of blood began collecting on the floor next to his head.

“Martin!” Randolf shouted, scrambling off the couch and rushing toward his friend.

Isaac stood there for a moment, frozen in time. All the warmth had left his body, and all he felt was a cold numbness to his face and body.

Was he in shock? Was he dead?

What should he do? Rush and help the man? Call the police?

But you killed the guy. Do you know what they do to young boys in jail who kill people?

“Holy shit. Is he dead?” Isaac whispered. His feet were permanently stuck to the floor.

“Martin! Martin!” the man continued to shout, shaking his friend’s shoulder as he called out. Then he turned his tear-stricken face at Isaac. “You killed him! You killed him!”

These three little words shot right through his heart.

He was a killer. A murderer. A man was dead because of him.

Run! You idiot! Run!

Staring down at the lifeless body before him, he realized that he couldn’t call the police. He didn’t want to go to jail. Then, another more depressing thought occurred to him. He couldn’t go home either. His uncle had pimped him out to these two men. His uncle would never protect him. He would never make sure that he was safe and well provided for. Nowhere was safe for him. He could never trust his uncle again. He had to leave town. Leave this village. Or risk going to jail.

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