Chapter 14: Only Option
Bailey stood by the doorway like a block of ice. Her feet were rooted on the floor. The two men were tall and menaced personified. They made her stomach churn in anxiety.
The man on the left side, the taller of the two, sported a cruel smirk. His eyes roamed all over her, like she was something he could buy and sell. The shorter one but stockier stood with his arms crossed, trying to look into the house. She blocked them with her body.
"Miss Hartfield, I assume the money is ready?"
The words echoed repeatedly in Bailey's ears as if it were a verdict of some sort.
"I—I don't have it right now," Bailey stammered, feeling her throat tightening at the mention of money. Her body shook as dread crawled up her spine because of the way the man was looking at her. "But I can get it tomorrow. You don't need to come back; I'll drop it at your office."
Bailey licked her lips, her throat dry because of nervousness and the conscious effort of trying to keep her wits.
The man's smirk widened, and he took a step closer. "Tomorrow, huh? That's not really how this works. The boss has taken... an interest in you."
Bile rose in Bailey's throat as she got what he meant by his words. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to say something, insult them, or perhaps throw a punch, but she had people to protect.
Her grandmother and dad are inside, and these men wouldn't hesitate to hurt them if push comes to shove.
"What do you mean, an interest?" she asked cautiously, though she already knew it in her heart.
The man licked his lips, his eyes gleaming as he leaned in slightly. "The boss thinks highly of you. Says you can pay off your debt in other ways. You know, something a bit more... personal."
Anger coursed through Bailey's body, but she stomped on it forcefully. She couldn't engage. She couldn't fight back, even if she wanted to. These guys weren't making empty threats.
These men, and whoever their boss was, had the power to make her life a living hell. Well, way worse than now. She had to keep calm, no matter how much she detested their suggestions.
But, out of the blue, Marcus appeared, bursting forward in a whirlwind of fury and outrage.
"Excuse me?" Marcus snapped as he stepped between Bailey and me with his hands on his hips in full diva mode. "First of all, who do you think you're talking to my girl like that? Second of all, she'll pay you tomorrow. So, run along like the good little dogs that you are. We don't have time for this low-budget gangster movie crap. Intiendes?"
Marcus snapped his fingers, shushing them away. Bailey stared at him, mouth open in shock. She didn't know her best friend could be so courageous.
Bailey's eyes widened. "Marcus—"
The shorter thug took a menacing step forward, his fists clenching at his sides. "You better watch your mouth, little man," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"Oh, I'm the little man?" Marcus shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Honey, I may not be tall, but I've got enough sass to take you and your friend down. I can even do it with my eyes closed and with one hand tied behind my back."
Bailey's heart almost jumped out of her chest. The tension was suffocating, escalating as the minutes passed. The taller man's smirk faded, and a calculated smile graced his lips. His fingers moved toward his pocket, and Bailey's stomach dropped.
Did he have a gun?
"Marcus, stop," she whispered urgently. She grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "Please."
But Marcus was on a roll. "No, Bailey. These guys think they can just waltz in here and—"
The taller thug took a step forward, his hand slipping into his coat.
Bailey's heart skipped a beat. No, no, no…
Suddenly, a voice rang out from across the street. "Hey! Leave them alone! The police are on their way!"
Bailey whipped her head around to see Mrs. Jenkins, the elderly neighbor who lived two houses down. She was walking her dog and aimed her phone at us. She stared the thugs down, and even from a distance, Bailey could hear the sirens.
Thank God for small mercies, she thought.
The two men exchanged a look and nodded. The taller one glared at Bailey, his eyes dark with warning. "We'll be back tomorrow," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "And if you don't have the money, you're going to regret it."
With that, the two men turned and walked away, disappearing down the street just as the police arrived.
Bailey slumped against the doorframe, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Sweat poured down her back and back in rivulets. They would come back, and she was sure they weren't bluffing.
And if she didn't have the money tomorrow...
"Oh my god!" Marcus wailed dramatically, collapsing onto the nearest chair and fanning himself with one hand like he was about to faint. "I swear, I'm not cut out for this kind of stress. I'm sensitive! My therapist is going to hear all about this."
Bailey stared at him in disbelief. "Marcus. You nearly got yourself killed."
He shot her a wide-eyed look, his hand fluttering to his chest in mock offense. "Please, girl. Do you think I was going to let those Dollar Store Vin Diesel wannabes intimidate us? I had them in the bag."
Bailey laughed, though it came out more as a breathless, shaky sound. Marcus was ridiculous; his over-the-top antics were exactly what she needed right now. The tension in her chest loosened slightly, and she gave him a grateful smile.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice shaky.
"Of course," Marcus replied, his diva persona slipping just a bit as he reached out and took her hand. "I've got your back, always. Now, let's talk to the police before I have a full-blown panic attack."
They talked to the police, but Bailey couldn't give information about them. After all, she owes them money.
She stepped back into the house, shutting the door behind her. She glanced over at her grandmother, who was sitting quietly in the living room, her face etched with concern.
"Bailey, sweetheart, what's happening?" Carol asked gently, her voice soft but worried.
Bailey walked over to her grandmother and kneeled beside her, resting her head on the older woman's knee. Carol's hand immediately went to Bailey's hair, stroking it in that soothing way she had always done when Bailey was a little girl.
"I'm so sorry, Grandma," Bailey whispered, her throat tightening with emotion. "I promised I'd take care of everything, but it's all falling apart. I don't know what to do."
Carol's hand didn't stop moving; her voice was calm and steady. "You're doing the best you can, Bailey. Life's not easy, and no one expects you to have all the answers. But we'll get through this together. You've always been so strong, and I know you'll find a way."
Bailey lifted her head, looking up at her grandmother's kind, weathered face. Carol's eyes were filled with warmth but also a deep sadness. She had lived through so much—losing her husband, watching her son, Bailey's father, lose everything to the accident. And now she was watching Bailey struggle under everything.
"I don't want you to worry about anything," Bailey said, her voice breaking slightly. "I'm going to find a way to give you a better life. I promise."
Carol smiled softly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You already give me a good life, Bailey. Just having you here, knowing you care, that's more than enough."
Bailey couldn't hold back the tears that slipped down her cheeks. She leaned forward and hugged her grandmother tightly. She wanted so badly to fix everything, to make everything right, but she was barely keeping her head above water.
After a few moments, she pulled back, wiping her eyes and giving her grandmother a small smile. "I love you, Grandma."
"I love you too, sweetheart," Carol whispered, rubbing her face tenderly.
Bailey stood up on shaky legs. She needed to figure out her next steps. If she didn't have the money by tomorrow, Bailey didn't want to envision what would happen.
She glanced at Marcus, who watched her with a rare look of concern on his face.
"What now?" Marcus asked softly, his usual flamboyance tempered by the seriousness of the situation.
Bailey took a deep breath. "I need to check my bank account. Maybe... maybe I can pull something together."
She grabbed her laptop, her hands trembling as she logged into her bank. Bailey's heart sank as she stared at the balance.
The amount was glaring because there was almost next to nothing.
The hospital bills ate most of her savings, and whatever remained of her salary was used to pay the loans she took years ago. It wasn't even enough to cover even a fraction of her debts. Panic clawed at her inside as she tried to think of a solution.
Only one option was available for her. The one she had been avoiding.
Margaret's offer.