Summer Camp Sweethearts

Chapter 33

Standing before me were two men, heavily tattooed all over their arms and a few scars scattered on their faces. The older of the two men, who appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties, grinned in my direction, and it freaked me out.

"Can I help you," I ask, my voice just above a whisper and hoping they can't hear the fear in it.

"Actually, you can, Melissa Anderson," the older guy says, walking closer to us. His steps are slow and precise as he walks toward us.

"How do you know my name?" I ask, gripping Maggie's hand very tightly with fear.

"We know a lot of people, Melissa," the older guy says, his voice dripping with menace.

"And what do you want from me?" I ask, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible.

"You see, we know your dad, and he owes us some money. So, we're here to collect."

"Dad doesn't owe you anything," I say, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

"Oh, but he does, Melissa. And if we don't get what's ours soon, he'll be in a lot of trouble."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Let's go, Melissa," the older guy says, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Maggie and toward the farm entrance. I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of smoke and alcohol. It's one of the worst smells I've ever smelled on a human being. I am sure that this guy hasn't showered in a few days.

"No!" I shout, struggling against him. But it's no use. He's much more potent than me and manages to pull me out of the barn without so much as a fight from me.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Conrad's voice booms over the commotion. He walks towards us with Blake not far behind him.

"We were just about to collect on a debt your dad owes us," the older guy says, shoving me toward Conrad. "But now she's resisting."

"Let her go," Conrad orders, his deadly voice calm. The older guy looks at him for a moment before finally releasing me. I stumble back, barely keeping myself from collapsing to the ground.

"My dad owes you guys nothing, Gustavo," Conrad says, looking the guy straight in the eyes. I look at him, dumbfounded about how Conrad knows this guy's name. I know I'm not the best at remembering and placing people's faces to their names, but I do not remember meeting this guy. I am sure I would remember a beefy-looking guy with 20 thousand tattoos across his body and some scars on his face, but not a single memory comes to mind. And usually, Conrad and I know the same people.

"How do you know his name," I whisper to Conrad, who is now standing next to me.

"I didn't," he says, "but I know who he is. He's a criminal."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my heart racing as the reality of what Conrad is saying sinks in. This guy is a criminal, and we're standing in front of him, about to fight him because my dad owes him money.

"Aghh. Can the two of you stop the little family meeting and give me the 50 thousand dollars," Gustavo interrupts. It's strange because one would think that now is the time that the two of them would be taking out their guns and pointing them in our direction or something, but all they do is stand there, their hand stretched out, waiting for us to put something in it. Honestly, it looks a little pathetic if you ask me.

"We are not giving you any money. But you are going to be arrested, though," Conrad says so casually.

"Arrested?" the younger guy squeaked, saying something for the first time and looking at Conrad in disbelief. "For what?"