Fighting to Be Free

“My name’s Jamie Cole. If you could tell him that he knows my mother, Sharon Cole?” I asked, before heading over to the comfy looking leather sofa’s they had in here. If I had just walked in off of the street and didn’t know what this place really was, then I would actually think this place was nice, respectable and would be somewhere I would borrow from. But I knew better, as did most of the scum that lived around here, it was only the suckers that didn’t know any better that got pulled in by the cleanliness and free coffee machine. Well, the suckers that didn’t know any better, and the idiots like my mother who didn’t think about what they were getting themselves into.

As I sat there I could feel myself getting angrier and angrier. This guy had either hurt my mother or had one of his goons do it, I really needed to calm down and not let this affect my proposal. If I went in there in this mood I was liable to shove my fist down his throat and then I would be a dead man, he’d have a hit order placed on me so quick I wouldn’t even have time to tell Ellie I loved her before I died. As much as I wanted to smash his face in, I knew that this was how it worked, having a woman beaten was an everyday occurrence for him, just his job, so I needed to stay detached too.

After a few minutes the door at the back opened and two guys came out, neither of which looked very friendly. Just the way they stood screamed bodyguard or heavy. One of them walked up to the lady at the counter and she smiled politely, gesturing over to me as they spoke in whispers. His eyes flicked over to me as he stood back up, I did a quick scan of his body, assessing my chances. I always did this, I didn’t mean to, I guess it was just habit. This guy would be tough, I was pretty sure he was packing something in the waistband of his pants at the back too, hopefully I would be able to keep my cool and not start anything because by the look on this guy’s face, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in my head.

“Mr Cole, I’ll tell Mr Grier that you’re here. He’s just finishing up, he won’t be long,” he informed me in his thick New York accent. I nodded in response and watched him walk back to the office.

After a few minutes the same guy walked back out, he hand his hand on another guys shoulder, it wasn’t a friendly gesture though. The new guy didn’t work for Tony Grier, he was someone who had borrowed, and judging by the way he was nursing his stomach and breathing heavy, he was having trouble with this weeks payment.

I looked up just as Tony Grier came to the door. He was probably in his early fifties, average height, a little overweight, slightly balding, his body encased in an expensive looking grey suit. He smiled warmly before heading over to me with his hand extended. I stood up and tried to keep the hatred and anger from my face as I played the polite role of person begging for more time.

“Jamie Cole. I hardly recognised you, you’ve grown up a lot. I bet you don’t even remember me, do you?” he asked, looking me over as he shook my hand.

“No Sir, I don’t,” I admitted. Had I met him before? I’d certainly heard of him, I know Brett had some run in’s with him when Tony tried to branch into areas of Brett’s business, but that had been sorted pretty amicably, with Tony backing down - and only losing three of his men in the process.

He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder, nodding towards his office. “We met a few years ago, you came with Brett Mason to a meeting once,” he said, grinning sheepishly. I’m guessing that was one of the meetings about him trying to screw Brett over and steal his deals.

“Really? I guess that was a long time ago then,” I said, trying not to spit my words at him. All I wanted to do was to knock his teeth out and shove them down his throat.

He laughed and led me into the office, shutting the door behind us. He motioned for me to sit down then he headed to the seat behind the desk. I discreetly scanned the room, noticing there was another guy in the room with us, his gun wasn’t as subtle as the other guys, he wore it on a shoulder strap so it hung in front of his chest.

Keep your cool, Jamie!

“So then, Kid, what can I do for you on this fine Sunday? Can I call you, Kid? That’s what everyone used to call you, although I guess you’re not really a kid anymore,” he mused, looking me over again.

I shrugged, “You can call me whatever you want.” I forced a smile and got more comfortable in my seat, hoping that this meeting would go my way. “I’m here to talk about my mother’s debt.”

A slow smile crept on his face, “Ah, I thought it would be something like that,” he stated, his eyes calculating now, he looked a little more alert, maybe he thought I was going to grab the gold plated letter opener from his desk and shove it deep into the side of his neck…. I was actually considering it.

I nodded, “Yeah. So she owes you thirteen thou, right?” I asked, cocking my head to the side, still trying to keep this conversation light and casual.

He opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a binder, dropping it on the desk and opening it slowly, whether he was doing it slowly just to piss me off I couldn’t be sure, but it was certainly working if he was. “Let me check,” he said, sucking his tongue over his teeth. He came to a page fairly near the front so I’m guessing it was in alphabetical order or something. He sighed exaggeratingly, “I’m afraid that thirteen was last weeks total…..”

I bit back my groan. “And this weeks total?” I asked, not even wanting to know the answer.

He closed the file and pushed it back into his drawer before speaking. “You know how these things work, Kid. Interest, late payment charges, call out fees, I have to pay guys to go and chase up the money…..”