Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I reach over to the baseball bat I had leaned against the wall on the right side of the door and hold it so it’s visible. “I think we’ll stay right where we are.”
Kravitz chuckles as he eyeballs my weapon. “A baseball bat? Is that supposed to scare us?” He pulls aside his suit jacket, revealing a gun tucked in a chest holster. He doesn’t need to say anything because his message is that the gun trumps the bat every time.
He’s not wrong and I don’t bother showing him the pistol I have tucked into the back waistband of my jeans. Instead, I give him a lackadaisical smile and toss the bat onto the ground at his feet. I reach behind the door one more time and grab the shotgun I’d leaned there previously. I open the left door completely and hold the gun across my body. “I’ve got more than a baseball bat. Take one step closer and you’re going to see just how good of a shot I am.”
Kravitz holds out his arms in the universal sign that he means no harm, which is a fucking lie. He laughs—an easy-going sound completely at odds with the seriousness of this meeting. “We’re just here for what’s ours because it’s time to pay up. We’d like that to happen without things getting messy.”
“I’m getting blue in the face repeating this but I’ll say it again… the bourbon is not mine to give. It belongs to Mardraggon Enterprises. Even if it were mine to give, I’m not covering my father’s debt. He’s on his own.” My voice is cold, steady, and there should be no doubt in their minds they’re getting nowhere with me.
Bellamy steps forward, his face a hard mask of anger. “Mr. Rafferty won’t be happy about this. He expects his winnings.”
“And he can take that up with the entire board of directors if he wants. I’ll even facilitate a meeting. He’s not getting anything from me though.”
Kravitz remains silent, a smirk on his face, but Bellamy is incensed I’m not quavering in fear. “You’re making a big mistake. Mr. Rafferty isn’t someone you want as an enemy.”
“Neither am I,” I retort, my voice firm as I shift the shotgun in my grip, emphasizing the urgency of my command. “Now, I am telling you to get off my property. I’m not sure if either of you have ever heard of the Castle Doctrine, but it gives me the right to defend my property with deadly force if necessary. However, rather than just shoot the two of you, I invited someone else over to make sure the message is clear you’re not welcome here anymore.”
Bellamy frowns and Kravitz tenses as someone melts out of the shadows from his right.
A Shelby County deputy sheriff. “Gentlemen, I’m Deputy Chris Parton. Mr. Mardraggon asked me to stop by as he anticipated you might come onto his property without permission. While he’s well within his right to defend his ground, I’m hoping I can convince you gentlemen to leave peaceably.”
I keep my expression passive but it’s hard not to laugh at the disgruntled looks on both of the thugs’ faces. I can see they’re stunned that I’d actually call the police on them and I’m guessing Rafferty chooses his victims wisely. In other words, those who aren’t going to fight against his collection efforts.
I’m not normally one who would run to the police for help with private matters, but Chris is my cousin on my mother’s side. He happens to be off duty tonight but when I explained to him what was happening, he had no problem in slipping on his uniform to come over to lend an air of credibility that I’m not kidding when I say I won’t be engaging with these people anymore.
It’s my hope that Chris’s authority will get the message back to Clinton Rafferty that I am not his way in to that debt my father owes.
For a moment, it looks like Bellamy might want to argue but Kravitz merely nods and takes a few steps back.
He looks to Chris and then to me. While his tone is polite, his eyes promise me that this is far from over. “Have a good evening, Mr. Mardraggon. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”
“I hope that’s not a threat,” Chris says.
Kravitz is cool as a cucumber, making him the more dangerous of the two men. He gives a slight bow toward my cousin. “Not at all, Deputy. Just being polite.”
The men walk to the SUV and we watch as they back down the driveway, rather than pulling through the circular drive under the portico. It’s well calculated so that we can’t see their license plate.
Chris turns to me and we shake hands. “You all right?”
“Yeah, man. Thank you for coming. Hopefully that will be enough to keep them away.”