Page 19 of Rough Rider (Bad Boy High)
“You have an appointment at?—”
He walks away without waiting for her to finish. Bam and I give the man about a thirty second lead before pushing to our feet and following him out the doors. We find him in the stairwell, typing something on his phone. Bam swipes the phone out of his hand and starts scrolling.
I lean against the railing. “Hope you’re making a withdrawal from your online bank.”
“He’s not.” Bam shakes his head and holds up the phone so I can see the screen. Our gerbil is playing poker on an internet gambling app. Gambling can be one of the hardest addictions for some to beat. It's another way of chasing a high.
“Give me that back.” Doc grabs for the phone.
Bam holds him off with one hand. “You’ve got a real problem.” He flips through the apps until he finds the one he’s searching for and then frowns. “Negative balance? No bueno. Where else should I look?”
“Broker accounts,” I suggest.
“I’ll pay you back. Give me another week.” Doc’s hands are fisted at his waist.
“It’s been two already, and if we give you one more, then everyone will want one more, and that’s just not good for business.”
“You know I’m good for it,” Doc insists.
“Youweregood for it. Here. Open this.” Bam shoves the phone in front of Doc to trigger the facial recognition. A few moments later, and over the protests of Doc who says something about penalties and retirement and how we’re costing him money, the funds have been transferred to Doc’s bank account. “Time for a withdrawal.”
We only deal in cash. The Doc banks at a credit union which is conveniently located across the street.
“You want to get us lunch while I babysit the good doc?” Bam asks.
“On it.” I shuffle off, following the spoon and fork symbols on the signs until the smells of the café hit me. I buy a couple of premade subs and a bag of pretzels. By habit, I let my eyes drift over the tables along the wall checking for any signs of danger as I make my way back to Bam. I freeze when my eyes spot a shiny chocolate-colored head bent over a single small plastic cup—the kind that you get when you’re drinking the free tap water.
My mouth dries out. You never want to see someone you care about near a doctor. I slide into the empty chair opposite of Andy’s. “What’re you doing?” The words come out unnecessarily harsh, and I immediately regret it when her eyes fly to mine in confusion and slight fear.
“Where did you come from?”
I hesitate, thinking maybe I should lie to her, but she knows what I do for money. “I’m here to collect.”
Her eyebrows shoot. “From a doctor?”
I shrug. “There are all types.”
“But he has?—”
“A lot of addictions,” I finish for her.
“Wow.” She sits back and shakes her head. “You know that saying about how money can’t buy you happiness? I’ve always felt that was a lie. Money could take away a lot of the stress in my life, but I guess if even a doc is getting visits from you that maybe that saying isn’t all wrong.”
“I think you’re the one who’s not all wrong. Money would make me happy too. At least I wouldn’t have to do this.” I jerk a thumb over my back in the vague direction of the doc’s office.
“Oh?” she mouths a little sound of surprise. “I thought you lik—actually now that I’m about to say it, I realize how dumb it is. It’s just another job for you, isn’t it?”
I think about how it feels to have my fist smash against someone’s face and the adrenaline that can course through my body after a fight. There’s probably a limit on how honest you should be with someone. “I can think of other things I’d rather do.”Maybe.
“Same.” She taps her fingers against the nearly empty water cup.
“What’re you here for?”
“Mom.” Her expressive mouth turns down at the corners. I want to kiss those little indents until they curve upward until she never frowns again.
“What’s happening?” I want to ask what I can do, but Andy’s got this independent air about her. It’s best if I hear her out and solve the problem in the background.
“She took some bad drugs, so her boss sent her here.”
