Chapter 17: Loan sharks ’Shit..’ Noah’s grocery bags suddenly weighed a thousand pounds each. He turned slowly, facing the inevitable. Rex stood beneath a flickering streetlight, one hand tucked into his leather jacket pocket. The universal sign for "I might have a weapon." A thick gold chain stood against his neck, probably purchased with someone else’s money. "Rex. Hey. What a coincidence." Noah’s voice came out an octave higher than intended. Rex didn’t smile. His face remained expressionless as he closed the distance between them, stopping close enough that Noah could smell his breath. And...it stank. A nauseating cocktail of cheap cigarettes and garlic bread. ’Don’t gag. Do NOT gag.’ "Follow me." Rex turned, not bothering to check if Noah complied. Because of course Noah would comply. Both men knew the script. Four minutes later, they stood in an alley between a laundromat and a cell phone repair shop. Noah’s groceries had gone from fresh purchases to hostages. "You’re a hard man to find lately, Carter." Rex examined his fingernails. "Almost like you’re avoiding me." "Me? Avoiding you?" Noah laughed. "Why would I do that? I love our chats. Quality time." Rex’s eyebrow twitched. "Multiple visits to your apartment. Nobody home. Your phone goes straight to voicemail. Beginning to think you’d skipped town." "Phone broke. It’s still in the repair shop. Also, work has been crazy lately." "Work?" Rex smirked. "Thought you were unemployed." "Self-employed," Noah corrected automatically. Why am I arguing semantics with a debt collector? Rex leaned against the brick wall. "Must be doing well. You are buying meat ." He nodded at the bags. "Instead of those ramen cups we always see in your trash." ’They go through my garbage?’ "Just had a lucky break," Noah muttered. "Lucky break." Rex repeated the words like testing their flavor. "Lucky enough to start making payments?" Noah swallowed. "I was going to call you guys tomorrow, actually. Because my moblie phone would be fixed by then." "Sure you were." Rex’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. "Just like you were going to call last week. And the week before." "I really was this time." "Then today’s your lucky day." Rex straightened up. "Your grace period’s over. Weekly payments start now." ’Worst. Timing. Ever.’ Noah calculated quickly. "How much?" he asked, already knowing it would hurt. "One thousand. Cash. Now." Noah’s mouth went dry. "I don’t have that much on me." Rex shrugged. "ATM’s right around the corner. I’ll wait." ’Of course he knows where the nearest ATM is. Probably has a mental map of all withdrawal points within three miles of my apartment.’ "Fine." Noah set his groceries down carefully. The ATM transaction felt like organ donation. Each button press extracted another piece of his soul. The machine spat out ten crisp hundred-dollar bills, reducing his account to a pitiful balance. ’It’s okay. Tomorrow... tomorrow I’ll have it back.’ Noah consoled himself. Noah returned to find Rex exactly where he’d left him, scrolling through his phone with an expression of boredom. The groceries remained untouched. "Here." Noah handed over the stack of bills, trying not to let his hand shake. Rex counted them, licked his thumb for the last few bills like an old-timey banker, then tucked them into his jacket. "Same time next week. Another thousand." "Next week?" Noah’s voice cracked. "That wasn’t the agreement." "Agreement’s been updated. Boss says weekly payments until you’re square." "But that’s—" "Smart business." Rex finished the sentence with a smile. "You understand business, right, Carter?" Noah thought of his bread shop, his idle income. "Yeah. I understand business." "Good man." Rex clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to stagger him. "See you next Friday. Don’t make me hunt you down. Because there will be a fine for that." He walked away, disappearing around the corner like a recurring nightmare that would return right on schedule. Noah collected his groceries, hands slightly numb. ’It’s okay. I can manage this. Pay these goons their weekly thousand, pay the hospital bills, still have plenty left over.’ But something dark and cold had settled in his stomach, and it wasn’t just Rex’s garlic breath. If his system stopped working? If the portal disappeared? If the princess decided to throw him in a dungeon tomorrow? Noah trudged home, groceries no longer feeling like a victory. His tiny, crappy apartment came into view, the promise of broccoli and chicken failing to lift his spirits. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough. He needed that daily income transfer. Needed to sell more products and increase his daily revenue even further.