Chapter 8

As if someone had hit the pause button on a movie, the scene in front of me stopped mid-action. The two of them slowly turned to look at me and I felt a moment of hesitation. The man was bigger than me, but most of his weight was in his gut that was straining against the buttons of his black suit and red tie ensemble. He reminded me more of a cheesy lounge singer than a man that had brought my friend to her knees. Although, by the look of the rapidly appearing bruises and the trickle of blood coming from his nose, Bethany really had gotten a few good hits in.

"Now, who the fuck is this?" he demanded to Bethany in a horrible replica of a New Jersey accent.

I shrunk away immediately, calling myself every kind of idiot I could think of at that moment.

"She's no one, nobody. She comes in and cleans the gym every Friday night," Bethany stated thinking on her feet.

"She's your cleaning lady?" the man asked her incredulously.

Bethany nodded emphatically and pleading me with her eyes to keep quiet. He kept looking back and forth between as if he could not fathom what she was saying. Considering what I was wearing, it was a long shot to think I could be called a cleaning lady.

Finally, he pinned Bethany with a disbelieving stare. "And you only bring her in once a week? What the hell kinda business are you running? That is disgusting! Do you know how many people have touched these machines and sweated on them? Do you even wash the towels?"

"Of course, I wash the towels! And yes, she only comes in once a week. The rest of the time it is up to me to keep this place clean. She just comes in for the deep cleanings!" Bethany replied, clearly insulted.

This conversation was so farfetched and so insane that I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. It was worthy of the best comedy routine or a sitcom all on its own.

Completely engrossed in the argument about the cleanliness of the gym, I did not hear anyone come in until a hand on my back shoved me into the room. I sprawled out on the floor next to Bethany, feeling the jarring impact of the concrete all the way through me. I scrambled to my knees beside her as she wrapped her arms around me to keep me close. The new man that entered the room was nothing short of frightening.

"Mikey, what the hell are you doing?" the man snarled.

Mikey looked over at him sheepishly. "Nothin'."

The other man rolled his eyes and muttered something about stupid people before turning to Bethany and me.

"Where is the money?" the new guy demanded.

My heart was thundering so loudly that his words were almost lost on me. I looked towards Bethany for answers, but she obstinately avoided my gaze. Money? What the hell was this man talking about?

"I already told you before, I am not giving you my uncle's money. Whatever he had going on before is done now and I have no interest in it. This… all of this… is done. If you don't stop harassing me then I am going to call the police," Bethany said, with just enough strength and conviction in her voice that I believed her.

"Really?" the new man said with an evil grin.

"Yes, really," she snapped back.

He stalked towards us and brandished the wickedest-looking knife I had ever seen. The world became drowned out as I continued to stare at the silvery glinting object. I feared for Bethany, but it was not Bethany in his eyesight I realized at the last minute.

It was me.

He laid the blade against my cheek as if he were caressing it tenderly. A sob became lodged in my throat and the air in the room was suddenly too thick to breathe.

"If you don't give me what I want, little girl. I'll make sure that this pretty little face right here is unrecognizable by the time I'm through with it," he declared gleefully as if he was hoping she would give him a reason.

"I don't have it," she finally spouted off her shoulders sagged in defeat.

Everyone in the room reeled back from her and all their jaws dropped.

"What do you mean you don't have it?" the man said lowly, the anger and disbelief evident in his voice.

"I mean, it's all tied up in a lot of investments and stocks. If you want it, I'll give it to you, but it'll take me days to get everything together. You will have to give me some time," Bethany insisted.

"You have one week, little girl. If you don't have it when we come back…" he warned before sliding the blade along my cheek again. A biting sting caused me to gasp and jerk away from it. A tiny speck of blood dotted the steel and weakness swamped over me knowing that was my own blood.

"One week," the big man repeated.

He rounded on Mikey, who shrunk back from the murder in the man's eyes, then grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and shoved him harshly towards the door.

We held our breath until we heard the back door slam hard then we burst into action.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes! Are you okay?" Bethany asked, then smacked herself in the head before rushing off.

She came back with a damp rag for my face. A quick peek at the clock told me that Trev was running late. I could not help but be thankful for that, so I'd have time to get away before he came back. There was no way I wanted him to see me like this.

"I've got to get out of here before Trev gets here," I stated in a bit of a panic.

"Too late," came a voice from the doorway.