Chapter 9 - The Debt|
Naomi froze, staring at him. "You... you know about David's debt?"
Raymond looked at Marcus, who offered a brief, respectful nod before stepping back into the hallway, shutting the door to give them privacy.
Raymond turned back to Naomi, his grip on her waist loosening slightly, but his gaze remained locked onto hers.
"Six months ago," Raymond confessed softly, "a collections agency in Chicago tried to put a lean on your apartment building because of your husband's unpaid oncology bills. They were going to seize your paycheck at Saint Mercy's."
Naomi's breath caught in her throat. She remembered that month—the terrifying weeks she had spent staring at eviction notices, eating instant noodles, wondering if she would be living out of her car by winter. Then, suddenly, the collection agency had called, apologizing profusely, stating that the debt had been settled in full by an anonymous donor.
"That was you?" she whispered, her voice trembling violently.
"I found out three years ago that you were back in Chicago," Raymond said, his tone entirely devoid of pride. "I watched you from a distance, Naomi. I saw you working seventy hours a week at that hospital. I saw you sitting alone in that small diner near the train station every Sunday morning."
"Why didn't you approach me?" she choked out, fresh tears spilling over her lashes. "Why did you hide?"
"Look at me, Naomi!" Raymond growled, gesturing to his broad, scarred frame, the bloody bandages wrapped around his ribs, and the heavy tactical gear sitting on the chair. "I am a monster who rules this city through blood and fear! Your husband was a quiet teacher who gave you a peaceful life. I thought if I came into your world, I would ruin you."
May you like
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against her stomach, his breath warm through her sweatshirt.
"And tonight," Raymond whispered, his voice cracking with a terrifyingly raw remorse, "I brought my blood straight to your table."
