The back of the Golden Hay Hotel was just different compared to its opulent front — cracked asphalt, humming ventilation pipes, and a single flickering lamp above a rusted maintenance shed.
Darren was just a few feet away from the dot and so he glanced ahead. There — in the shadows near the dumpsters — he saw them.
Terry Wilson's hulking form loomed over Alison, who was backed against the wall, fear written across every inch of her body.
Her arms were thrown up defensively as Terry shouted angrily into the air.
"You did this to me!"
"You're the reason Tyler is no longer friends with me! My company! Everything is gone because of you. Where's the money you owe me?! Where is it!"
"Please— Tyler! Please! I don't have the money no—"
"Oh. Don't worry. I've thought of other ways you could pay me."
Terry grabbed her wrist, planted it to the wall and held both with just one hand.
But before he could take off her shirt, he felt an arm lock around his shoulder and ripped him back.
