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A Bad Loan | SparkyMan | 2

 

Mitch never hesitated, coming to his decision. As if he had already known what his choices would be and what his decision would be, Mitch coughed, “Go ahead, take her.” His head slumped forward, his eyes never meeting his wife’s. An exasperated gasp of air escaped his lungs as he looked down in shame. He knew what was coming next.

Brenda’s shrill scream filled the room. “Whaaaaatttt!” Her eyes flew wide with surprise and rage. “You bastard,” she cried as she painfully fought against the restraint holding her in place. “How could you …,” her face, now beet red with anger. “A hundred thousand dollars?” Brenda’s anger was quite evident as she kicked and struggled to get free. She didn’t care about the visitors anymore; she wanted to exact her fury on her worthless husband. She was pissed!

The big guy holding Brenda down, clamped his gloved hand over her mouth, muffling her tirade until she calmed down. Once Brenda relaxed, he informed her of the previously agreed upon contract. “Mitch, here, put *you* up as collateral, in the event he couldn’t pay. Big Mac warned him he wasn’t kidding. Turns out your hubby can’t pay. So now you have to pay!” He finally loosened his tight grip on Brenda’s locks, easing the pain in her head. She gave up fighting as she listened to his detailed explanation. “A hundred thousand is a lot of money, so Mac says *you* are allowed to make *payments*! You can work off the debt. You are *his* girl until the debt is paid off. After that, you can …,” he snickered, “… if you want, go back to your husband.”

Brenda boiled inside as she realized her fate. The bastard sold her off, like a cheap slave. The fire in her eyes, flickered at her, piece of shit, husband, sitting in the chair. If she knew she could move quickly enough, she’d jump across the room and kick him in his balls. She wanted to rip his dick out and shove it down his throat. She envisioned a million cruelties in order to exact her revenge. The room was unusually quiet as Brenda’s seething, was gradually replaced with curiosity. How was she supposed to work it off? What was she expected to do? How long would it take?

After debating the questions and picturing herself as a prostitute, standing on a corner, Brenda gathered up enough nerve to ask. “What, exactly, do I have to do?” Her voice cracked, and tears were streaming down her face again as she worried about her doom.

It was as if the leader could read her mind. His cruelty was replaced by gentle sympathy. His gloved hand caressed her face, wiping the tears away. “Don’t worry sweetheart. You won’t be on the corner of Fifth and Madison, shaking your ass at every car that passes by.” Brenda knew that area to be the red light district. “You will stay here with your, loser, husband. You simply do whatever Mac tells you to do. He’ll keep tabs of your balance. If there are problems, he’ll simply tack on penalties and interest, raising the amount you owe.”

“What exactly will I have to do?”, Brenda asked, knowing she knew the answer anyway.

“C’mon, you’re a very beautiful woman. I know you’re smart also.” Again he was caressing her face, his fingers gently tucking her hair behind her ears. “Figure it out for yourself!” He placed his hand beneath her chin and lifted it slightly so that her eyes reflected in his dark sunglasses. “So, do we have a mutual understanding, and agreement?”

 

How does Brenda respond?


          Brenda agrees, but doesn’t want to stay with Mitch.

 
 
 

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