“The things you’ve done.” Malcolm lets loose a low whistle. “I bet all those men would love to find out where you live. If they could find you before law enforcement got their hands on you…” he trails off, making it an obvious threat.
“I tracked you down because I was worried about your friend, and this is how you repay my good deed, by intimidating me?” I snap at him.
“Don’t even pretend you’re the innocent little girl here. I ain’t buying it. I saw the screenshots. You’re savage as shit, ruining men’s lives.”
Rather than continue to argue that they deserved it, I sigh and cave. “What do you want?”
“You mean in exchange for me not making your life hell?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m glad you asked, girly. I’ve got just the job for you.”
“Who do you want me to hack? I’m not stealing anyone’s money,” I tell him. That’s one line I won’t cross. What I do may be considered cyber-bullying, but it isn’t the type of crime I would ever go to jail for.
“Nothing like that. In fact, you won’t have to do anything illegal.”
“I won’t?” I ask in surprise.
“Nope.”
“Then what is it? You need a baby-sitter? If so, that’s a hard pass for me too,” I reply. It would be impossible to see an adorable baby every day knowing I can never have my own.
“Something along those lines actually. Except he’s a grown-ass man, not a baby.”
“Huh?” I ask with my brow bunched in confusion.
“My boy Nash is going through some shit, as you witnessed for yourself last night. By the way, I appreciate you shutting down the roof access.”
“Okay?” I reply.
“But it’s going to take a helluva lot more than a combination lock to keep him in line. If I didn’t have businesses to run or a wife and kid at home, I would crash with him myself until he comes out the other side of this. The same goes for the rest of his MC brothers. Everyone is busy with their own shit, though. That’s where you come in.”
“Me?” I repeat.
“You’re going to watch out for Nash, clean his apartment, get him eating and showering again, you know, take care of him in any way he needs.”
“He needs professional help! You can’t expect me to be some depressed guy’s maid, cook, and his what, personal cheerleader for free?” I scoff.
“No, not for free.” This time, Malcolm reaches inside his leather cut and pulls out a wad of green bills and offers them to me. “I’ll pay you five hundred a week. Your bank account’s low, so I’m guessing being a troublemaker doesn’t pay all that well.”
“I do it because those assholes deserve it, not to make money off the people they hurt!”
“Either way, you can use the cash, and I think my offer is more than generous. I’m not exactly known for being charitable, but I’ve got a soft spot for my boy.”
“Nash, right?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t act like you just learned his name. I know Nash is what brought you here in the first fucking place!”
Holy. Shit. “How did you…”
“I have a damn good private investigator. It took him all of about ten minutes to find out everything there is to know about you, girl scout.”
“Wow,” I mutter.
“Take care of him, and I’ll keep all your secrets. Not only will I keep my mouth shut, but the MC will have your back if you ever need the muscle thanks to your extracurricular activities.”
“Really?” I say in surprise.
“If nothing else, I’m a man of my word,” he tells me.
“I’m not a great cook,” I mutter.
“Then use the cash to order in. I don’t give a shit. Just check in on him at least once a day. Getting something in him other than alcohol once in a while would be a good start. He needs to sober up and get some perspective.”
“And how long exactly do I have to watch out for him? He really does need to see a professional.”
“Nash would never willingly see a shrink. So, you’re going to keep an eye on him until I say so,” Malcolm grumbles while shoving the cash toward me.
“I can’t babysit your friend forever or keep him from hurting himself!” I exclaim when I back away from the money.
“Unfortunately, you’re all I’ve got right now. I can’t throw him in a mental ward, and I don’t think that’s even what he needs right now, or I would do it. He just needs time to come to terms with everything. A feminine distraction would be nice, too. That’s you.”
“How long am I supposed to distract?”
“We’ll start with two months, or until he fucks you, whichever comes first.”
“Excuse me?” I gasp indignantly. “I don’t care what dirt you have on me! I’m not a whore you can just pimp out!”
With his free hand, Malcolm shoves his fingers through his hair and mutters something about difficult women. “Look, I’m not paying you to try and screw him, but if it happens, it happens. Nash needs to let off some steam. The sooner, the better. The man’s been celibate for three goddamn years.”
“No way. Three years? You’re exaggerating,” I accuse him through narrowed eyes.
“I wish I was, girl scout. Trust me, if I knew a clean hooker, I would hire her over you in a heartbeat to go bang some sense into him.”
“I thought men couldn’t go a few days without humping someone or they’ll explode.”
“We can’t, usually,” Malcolm agrees. “Nash is loyal to a fucking fault. His head is all messed up, and I don’t know what else to do for him.”
“So, you’re recruiting me to be his servant-slash-whore because that’ll make him feel better?”
“How about you start by just trying to be his friend and go from there, yeah? And keep this and the real reason you’re here to yourself. No need to give him another reason to spiral.”
“Fine,” I agree, jerking the cash from his hand. “Not like I really have a choice unless I want to move again, right?”
“I think we’re finally on the same page,” he replies. “Since he probably won’t open up if you knock, I’ll give you my spare key to his apartment.”
I look at the gold key in his hand in complete disbelief. “You want me to just barge into his place without his permission?”
“Yes,” Malcolm agrees. “Don’t worry. I took all of his guns and big knives, so he probably won’t attack you. It’s not like he has the energy to put up a fight.”
“He ‘probably’ won’t attack me? Seriously?”
“Just say I hired you to clean and cook for him. Tell him that I’ll come kick his ass if he has a problem with it.”
“This is going to be a train wreck,” I mutter to myself.
“Like you’ve got anything better to do?” Malcolm huffs before he starts to walk away. “I’ll be calling you or dropping by once a week to see if you’re making progress. My phone number is in your contacts if he gets worse or you need anything.”