Read Online Without Regret (Devil's Playground #1) by Nicole Edwards - Free Book Online
Authors: Nicole Edwards
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anyone to settle his debt. And Isaiah hadn’t been kidding when he’d shared Max’s orders to kill them all. That was the plan.
Maybe not today, but it would happen.
Max Adorite didn’t play games, and when he asked nicely for someone to reach out to him, this wasn’t how he meant. And for that, Howard Turner would die.
However, Isaiah’s goal was to get Jordan out of there in one piece, reunite him with his sister, and get the Owens siblings back to life as normal.
“I take it you received Max’s request,” Isaiah questioned, his gaze scanning the room, taking it all in.
“I did. I figured this was a good way to let him know I wasn’t playing his little game.”
“Oh, Max doesn’t play games,” Isaiah assured Howard. “Then again, you already knew that.”
There was true fear in Howard Turner’s light brown eyes. He knew he’d crossed a line. Granted, he likely had a plan of his own, and Isaiah hoped he would get to hear about it.
He smiled when Howard spoke.
“I don’t have a beef with Max Adorite,” Howard said, his eyes locked with Isaiah’s.
“You mean, you didn’t. Until today,” Isaiah added. “The bottom line is, Mr. Turner, I’m here to take Jordan Owens. Alive.”
“He’s not going anywhere until I get my money.”
“I don’t have your money,” Jordan grumbled.
“So you’ve said,” Howard retorted with a disgusting grin. “Doesn’t mean you won’t come up with it. I’ve already told you, we’ll take that pretty sister of yours as collateral.”
Isaiah growled. The thought of Howard putting his filthy hands on what belonged to him didn’t sit well.
Wait.
Belonged to him?
Since when had he claimed Cassidy as his own?
Before he had a chance to ponder that question, Howard spoke again.
“So what’ll it be?”
Isaiah lifted his eyebrow, encouraging Howard to tell him the options.
“I’ll take the thirty-five thousand that Mr. Owens owes me right now, and you can have him back. Or …”
“Or?” Isaiah asked, trying to keep his cool.
“Or we can make a trade until Mr. Owens can come up with the money.”
“Not gonna happen,” Isaiah assured him. “I’ve got thirty. You take it, hand over Jordan, and you can be on your merry way. Otherwise, you don’t have shit, and in about thirty seconds, I’ll have the cash and the kid.”
That got Harold’s attention. He got to his feet and righted his suit jacket, never taking his eyes off Isaiah.
“Thirty isn’t the deal. I said thirty-five.”
“That’s not what he owes you.”
“Sure it is. I charge for my time, and I’ve wasted the last half hour on him. That’s an extra five.”
Isaiah shook his head. “Thirty or no deal. Your choice. But keep in mind, the more you barter, the deeper of a hole you dig yourself. You claim you don’t have a beef with Mr. Adorite, but you seem to forget who you’re dealing with. Continue on this path, and he’ll have a beef with you . He asked nicely for you to reach out to him, to talk this through. You opted to ignore his generosity.”
“What’s keeping me from getting the rest of my money from the sister?” Harold questioned, his tone hard, his gaze backlit with fury.
“Because you touch one hair on her head and I’ll rip your throat out with my bare hands,” Isaiah said, his tone lethal. “Understood?”
Harold glanced over at Jordan, seemingly weighing his options.
Isaiah knew better.
People underestimated him, figured him to be a street-stupid businessman. What most people didn’t realize was that Isaiah had never had it easy. He could brawl with the best of them, even at thirty-eight.
And the last thing he would tolerate was anyone threatening to hurt a woman. Especially his woman.
Shrugging off the thought once again, Isaiah said, “Like I said. Your choice. I’ve got a club to run, and I’m wasting my time with you. So either choose the money so we can all be on our way or don’t. I don’t really give a fuck.”
Howard’s
Maybe not today, but it would happen.
Max Adorite didn’t play games, and when he asked nicely for someone to reach out to him, this wasn’t how he meant. And for that, Howard Turner would die.
However, Isaiah’s goal was to get Jordan out of there in one piece, reunite him with his sister, and get the Owens siblings back to life as normal.
“I take it you received Max’s request,” Isaiah questioned, his gaze scanning the room, taking it all in.
“I did. I figured this was a good way to let him know I wasn’t playing his little game.”
“Oh, Max doesn’t play games,” Isaiah assured Howard. “Then again, you already knew that.”
There was true fear in Howard Turner’s light brown eyes. He knew he’d crossed a line. Granted, he likely had a plan of his own, and Isaiah hoped he would get to hear about it.
He smiled when Howard spoke.
“I don’t have a beef with Max Adorite,” Howard said, his eyes locked with Isaiah’s.
“You mean, you didn’t. Until today,” Isaiah added. “The bottom line is, Mr. Turner, I’m here to take Jordan Owens. Alive.”
“He’s not going anywhere until I get my money.”
“I don’t have your money,” Jordan grumbled.
“So you’ve said,” Howard retorted with a disgusting grin. “Doesn’t mean you won’t come up with it. I’ve already told you, we’ll take that pretty sister of yours as collateral.”
Isaiah growled. The thought of Howard putting his filthy hands on what belonged to him didn’t sit well.
Wait.
Belonged to him?
Since when had he claimed Cassidy as his own?
Before he had a chance to ponder that question, Howard spoke again.
“So what’ll it be?”
Isaiah lifted his eyebrow, encouraging Howard to tell him the options.
“I’ll take the thirty-five thousand that Mr. Owens owes me right now, and you can have him back. Or …”
“Or?” Isaiah asked, trying to keep his cool.
“Or we can make a trade until Mr. Owens can come up with the money.”
“Not gonna happen,” Isaiah assured him. “I’ve got thirty. You take it, hand over Jordan, and you can be on your merry way. Otherwise, you don’t have shit, and in about thirty seconds, I’ll have the cash and the kid.”
That got Harold’s attention. He got to his feet and righted his suit jacket, never taking his eyes off Isaiah.
“Thirty isn’t the deal. I said thirty-five.”
“That’s not what he owes you.”
“Sure it is. I charge for my time, and I’ve wasted the last half hour on him. That’s an extra five.”
Isaiah shook his head. “Thirty or no deal. Your choice. But keep in mind, the more you barter, the deeper of a hole you dig yourself. You claim you don’t have a beef with Mr. Adorite, but you seem to forget who you’re dealing with. Continue on this path, and he’ll have a beef with you . He asked nicely for you to reach out to him, to talk this through. You opted to ignore his generosity.”
“What’s keeping me from getting the rest of my money from the sister?” Harold questioned, his tone hard, his gaze backlit with fury.
“Because you touch one hair on her head and I’ll rip your throat out with my bare hands,” Isaiah said, his tone lethal. “Understood?”
Harold glanced over at Jordan, seemingly weighing his options.
Isaiah knew better.
People underestimated him, figured him to be a street-stupid businessman. What most people didn’t realize was that Isaiah had never had it easy. He could brawl with the best of them, even at thirty-eight.
And the last thing he would tolerate was anyone threatening to hurt a woman. Especially his woman.
Shrugging off the thought once again, Isaiah said, “Like I said. Your choice. I’ve got a club to run, and I’m wasting my time with you. So either choose the money so we can all be on our way or don’t. I don’t really give a fuck.”
Howard’s
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