𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑

Tw0

Jess

I looked up at the nondescript brick building at the edge of town, then back down at the address Cindy had sent via text. It was the right place. It didn't look like it, though.

I walked up to the front door, knocking tentatively. It seemed abandoned. People did business there? I didn't see a car parked outside, or any signs of life aside from weeds sticking up from broken concrete.

"Yeah?" I looked around, startled at the sound of a gruff voice. I cleared my throat, wondering where the speaker sat. I couldn't see it anywhere, though I heard the voice loud and clear.

"I'm here to see Joe Green." I finally spotted a tiny camera above the door, and made a point to look straight up into it. I wasn't threatening anyone.

"Who sent you?"

That one threw me. "Uh, nobody sent me. I came on my own. I heard he could help me with some financial trouble I'd been having lately. Maybe I got the wrong information. I'm sorry." I was ready to leave and never return. Who sent me? That question alone made me question how professional the man really was, and how shady his business was.

A buzzer sounded. "Come in." A split second's hesitation, in which I questioned my sanity before remembering why I was asking for the money, before opening the door.

My eyes widened in disbelief when I saw the inside of the building. It was a total shock, like stepping through a portal into bizarro world. If I hadn't known better, the tastefully decorated room would've led me to believe I was in the waiting area of a prestigious law firm. Even the expertly lit artwork hanging on the walls told me Joe was not a man to be trifled with. Who was he?

"Hello." The man belonging to the voice I'd heard through the speakers greeted me. He sat behind a desk, but I had the feeling he was no secretary. More like a bodyguard. Though he wore a suit, I could imagine him getting his hands dirty. Very dirty.

"Hi. My name is Jess McKinley. A friend of mine recommended I come here to see Joe. I'm in big trouble, and I might lose my apartment if I don't pay up."

He held up a large, calloused hand. "I don't need to hear the sob story, lady. You need money. I get it. That's what Joe does. Plus some other things." He smiled nastily, and it wasn't lost on me that his eyes inspected me like I was a prize piece of meat. I felt exposed, though I was fully dressed.

"Can I see him?"

"Nobody just walks in to see the boss. Almost nobody ever actually talks to him."

"I see. How do people get money from him, then?"

"He has his ways." The man gestured to a camera above his head. I realized Joe-if that was his real name, which I doubted-could see me, wherever happened to be.

"Oh. Okay." I smoothed a self-conscious hand over my hair, then straightened out the skirt and blouse I wore beneath my coat. If Joe was that mysterious, he must've been a very powerful-and potentially dangerous-person. Once again, I had second thoughts.

The man at the desk held a hand to his ear. "How much money do you need?" he asked. I wondered what the gesture was all about, then realized Joe probably spoke into the man's ear through a device. He didn't take any chances.

"Five thousand dollars." The words sounded heavy as they left my mouth. My friend in the suit chuckled.

"A lot of money," he pointed out.

"I need a lot of money. You said you didn't want to hear the sob story, so I guess you'll have to believe I need it very badly."

"Lady, nobody comes here unless they need something very badly." He sneered. His words, and the tone in which he delivered them, made me shiver.