“Just a few,” Dan interjects before Jesse can tell me himself. I don’t believe him for a moment.
“Jesse?” I push, holding him in place with a determined glare. I need to know how much trouble my brother’s in.
His eyes break from mine for a few moments and aim for Dan before he takes a deep breath and starts rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry, Dan. I’m not lying to her. Two hundred, baby,” he says on a long exhale. I might need some temple rubs myself. I’m hoping by two hundred, he means pounds, but I know I’m hoping in vain. I stagger back in shock and Jesse is out of his chair in the blink of an eye. He looks mad.
“Damn it, Ava.” He holds me in place by my shoulders. “Are you okay? Are you dizzy? Do you want to sit down?”
“Two hundred thousand!” I yell. “What sort of bank lends two hundred thousand?” I shrug a faffing Jesse away as my shock allows for the information to sink in, turning my disbelief into anger. “I’m fine!”
“Don’t push me away, Ava!” he yells back at me, taking my elbow and leading me around his desk. I’m pushed gently onto his massive office chair. “Don’t be getting your knickers in a twist, lady. It’s not healthy.”
“My blood pressure is fine!” I snap petulantly, but I suspect it’s probably just gone through the roof. “Two hundred thousand? No bank in their right mind would lend that sort of money for a surf school!” They would laugh in anyone’s face if they rocked up with a request on that scale. How much can a few surf boards cost?
“No, you’re right.” Dan’s shrinking farther into his chair, making himself smaller and smaller. It’s an indication of how he feels—small and stupid. “A loan shark would, though.”
“Oh God!” My head falls into my palms. I know how they work. “What were you thinking?” I can feel Jesse’s palm rubbing soothing circles into my back, but it doesn’t soothe me at all.
“I wasn’t thinking, Ava,” he says and sighs.
I uncover my face, just so Dan can see the disappointment on it. I thought he was smart. “Is that the only reason you came home?”
“They’re looking for me.” Dan’s defeated face yanks at my heart strings. “You don’t get away with nonpayment with these types.”
“You said you were doing well,” I remind him, but I get no explanation, just a shrug. “Just stay here.” I sit forward in my chair. “Don’t go back.” I hear Jesse’s quiet laugh and see Dan’s soft smile. Both reactions to my remedy are not being taken seriously. They are also a clue that both men find my naiveté endearing. I don’t see a problem, though. Australia is on the other side of the planet.
“Ava,” Dan says, sitting forward, too. “If I don’t go back, then they will come here. I’ve already been warned, and I believe it. I’m not putting Mum, Dad, or you at risk and…” Dan’s interrupted midsentence by a cough from over my shoulder, pulling his stare from me to Jesse. I don’t need to turn around to know what expression will be on my husband’s face. Dan continues. “These people are dangerous, Ava.”
My head hurts, and Jesse’s hand rubs are becoming firmer. I rest my head back on the chair and look up at Jesse. “You can’t just deposit that kind of money into a bank account. Isn’t it laundering? I don’t want you involved, Jesse.” I feel terrible saying that, given my brother’s sorry situation and knowing Jesse is his only hope, but we have enough of our own issues, without Dan adding to them.
He smiles down at me. “Do you honestly think I’d do anything to put you and my babies at risk?” He nods at my stomach. “I’m transferring enough money into Dan’s account to get him back to Australia. I have the details of an off-shore account where I’ll transfer the two hundred. They won’t know where the money has come from, baby. I wouldn’t do it otherwise.”
“Really?” I’m looking for reassurance.
“Really.” His eyebrows rise and he lowers to kiss my cheek. “There are ways. Trust me.” His confidence makes me wonder if this is something he’s handled before. I wouldn’t be at all surprised.
“Okay,” I concede, accepting his kiss before feeling his face out. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
I look across the desk to my brother, who has noticeably eased up. “Have you thanked my husband?” I ask, suddenly feeling a little resentful.
“Of course,” Dan retorts, offended. “I never asked, Ava. Your husband’s been doing some digging.” Dan’s tone shouldn’t be, but it’s accusing.