I Will pay for him

~COOLEY~

Harlan threw back his head and let out a laugh that was unhinged.

A shiver went down my spine; he looked utterly pleased with himself since his crazy schemes were unfolding exactly the way he’d planned.

"So what if I don't let him go?" He snorted, his eyes blazing. "Finally got your reason to shoot me?Go ahead.”

Hansen wasn’t ready to play his game. He grabbed Harlan by the collar, shoved him against the wall, and pressed the gun back on him.

I instantly brought down my hand and started trying to remove them from the belt but I couldn't figure it out.

“Why are you holding him against his will?” Hansen yelled.

Harlan twisted his head toward Hansen, sneering and pulling his lips back. "Well, brother,he owed me fifty million.”

Hansen’s eyes met mine. That familiar kindness was there, gentle and unwavering, just like always when he saw me in pain. It made the tightness in my throat ease for just a moment.

"Alright," Hansen stated, his voice dropping low and steady. "I’ll pay the debt. Every single cent. Just let him go and get the hell out of here.”

His words rang in my ears again and again.

He would pay for me???

Harlan’s expression turned grim almost instantly. His cheeks grew red, his eyes burning with fury. “That's so suspicious.What the hell makes you want to cover for him?” he snapped, his voice rising sharply. “Are you already fantasizing about bending him over? How tight that ass would feel wrapped around your cock??"

Hansen kept the gun pointed, his finger steady on the trigger. “I don’t have time for this crap,” he said plainly. “It’s our grandfather’s birthday feast tonight, and it’s also my engagement party. Don’t ruin it with your madness.”

“Right, Officer. I will send you my account.” Harlan said with a grin, then turned and headed for the door.

As he walked past Hansen, he deliberately rammed his shoulder into him.

Hansen shifted but didn’t respond. He just stood there, his gun slowly lowering.

The door slammed shut. Harlan’s footsteps faded away. There was a heavy silence broken only by my ragged breathing.

Hansen reached for me, his fingers gently brushing my wrists. He quickly unbuckled the belt. My hands felt heavy and tingling as blood rushed back into them.

He didn’t ask me any questions right away.

Tears stung my eyes. I blinked really hard, but they still spilled over, tracing paths down my cheeks. My shoulders trembled with quiet sobs.

Hansen’s hand lifted my head softly,then cupped my face. His thumbs gently wiped away the tears, lightly and carefully. He pulled a neatly folded clean handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at my skin.

“It’s okay, Cooley,” he whispered, his voice calm and warm near my ear. “Stop crying. You’re safe now.”

“Thank you, sir,” I murmured, my voice cracking.

"Come on, let's head to my room," he suggested, as he gestured towards the door. "That belt left marks on your wrists. Let me take care of those for you.”

We made our way down the dimly lit hallway to his room. He pushed the door open to reveal an elegant space.

Hansen knelt by the lower part of the big wardrobe and pulled out a large first aid kit. He popped the lid open, showing an array of bottles, bandages, and tubes. He gave it a quick glance, then picked up a small tube of ointment and twisted off the cap.

"Here," he said, pressing a bit of white cream on his finger. "This should help with the sting."

"Let me do it myself," I murmured, offering my hand.

He shook his head and gently took my wrist. "No, you might miss some spots. Sit down. Let me do it right."

I paused, glancing towards the door. "What if your fiancée walks in? She might get the wrong idea about us."

"She's not the kind to jump to conclusions like that," he said, his tone steady yet still kind. "Just trust me."

I sat beside him on the edge of the bed, holding my wrists out. He worked the cream into my skin with slow, careful circles, the coolness seeping in and easing the pain.

The silence lingered for a moment before he carefully placed the tube down and gazed up at me. "Okay, let me ask. What was the deal with you and Harlan? Is it only about the loan?"

I looked down at my hands, tracing the marks where the red had almost faded away. "My aunt took out a loan for fifty million bucks in my dad's name after he passed. I was the next of kin, so when the bills started rolling in right after I got out of prison, I had no way to pay them. So, I offered myself as collateral. It seemed like a better option since I don't have any other way."

I couldn't tell him about my real deal with Harlan. He’d be devastated to learn that someone he had shown genuine kindness to had also taken part in planning his downfall.

Hansen gave a slow nod, his eyes fixed on mine. "All of that is done now. Harlan won't give you any trouble again.That debt will be settled."

A wave of relief hit me, but it was mixed with a pang of guilt. "Thanks. I’ll pay you back. Every single cent,as soon as I’m able."

He offered a small, warm smile. "Take your time, Cooley. No need to rush." He glanced over at the side table, where a teapot sat under a lid, barely any steam escaping. "How about some tea? Might help us both settle down.”

“Is it a fresh brew?”

“It's definitely a fresh brew, it's a must for them to send fresh tea to my room everyday whether I'm around or not."

He began to get up, but I quickly stopped him. "Please, stay seated. Let me serve us. You’ve already done so much."

"Okay," he replied, easing back onto the bed.

I went to the table, lifted the teapot, and the warmth immediately spread through my hands as I poured the contents into two delicate cups. A strong herbal aroma filled the air, and a gentle curl of steam rose from the liquid.

My fingers slid into my pocket, and I brought out the small packet of powder that Harlan had shoved into my hand when we first entered the house.He had given it without saying a word but I understand that he wanted me to slip it into Hansen’s drink for his scheme.

My heart started racing. I glanced back, and Hansen was staring out the window and not at me.

I carefully tore the corner of the packet, and spilled it into his cup. It quickly dissolved into the liquid.

I didn’t do this to carry out Harlan’s plan. I did it to protect him.

I might still be able to keep an eye on him, but if I don’t do it. Harlan could have a backup plan, and it might be something even brutal.

I stirred the cup until it was smooth, then carried both cups over.

"Here," I said, handing him the cup with the powder in it.

Hansen reached for it, bringing it to his lips. But then, a wave of doubt washed over me.

What if it becomes too much for him???

Or what if it actually killed him???

"Wait! Don’t drink yet," I blurted out, snatching the cup from him. "I think I saw a dead bug floating. Let me just get rid of it and make you a fresh cup."

He handed it back without a second thought but a calming smile.I rushed to the sink, tilting the cup and letting the tea swirl down the drain.

I rinsed the cup quickly, my heart pounding. "A fresh one is coming right up.”

But when I turned back to him, his gaze was distant. His face flushed a deep red, all the way from his collar to his hairline. He was tearing at his tie, yanking the knot until it came undone. The silk hung lopsided around his neck.

"Sir? Are you alright?" I set the cups down on the table and rushed over to him.

"No," he managed, his voice rough and strained. "My head's spinning. Everything feels... hot."

Wait… he hadn't even taken a sip—

He groaned, pressing a hand to his temple. Sweat beaded across his forehead, sliding down his face despite the blast of the air conditioner.

His eyes were darkened, filled with something intense and urgent.

Then his other hand shot out, fingers digging into my arm. He pulled me towards him suddenly and roughly, dragging me right onto his lap.

I landed on him, his hold tight, his body heat washing over me as he held me close.

“Cooley…help me,” he whispered.