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“Please, please, I’ll pay, just give me a week.”

“I don’t want your repayment in a week, I want it now.” He throws the man onto the grass.

Over his shoulder, the Bargainer says to me, “Pick up your bag, cherub. It’s rude to litter.”

“Says the man who just destroyed a door,” I mutter as I grab the bag, my gaze fixed on what’s happening in front of me.

The Bargainer throws me a smile. “That’s not littering, that’s B&E.” He pauses, and I hear a series of odd groans behind me. “And now it’s just E.”

Without looking, I know he’s fixed the door.

“Show off,” I say, the beginnings of a smile forming on my lips.

For the second time this evening, the Bargainer’s eyes drift to my mouth.

Beyond him, his client shakes on the ground, his gaze meeting mine. “Please, help me,” he begs.

All humor drains from Des’s face as he turns back around.

The Bargainer steps in front of me, and I swear the night darkens. “You shouldn’t have done that.” Thunder rumbles in the distance.

Des stalks over to the trembling man, who’s now crab-crawling away from him. The Bargainer puts a boot on his chest.

“Give me the name,” Des demands.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Des sizes the man up for several seconds, then nods. “Alright, Stan. Get up.”

Don’t get up, Stan, you fool.

But Stan the Fool does get up, a disbelieving spark of hope in his eyes. Like the Bargainer ever releases a man from his debts.

“C’mon,” Des jerks his head towards a beat up car parked in front of the house, “get in.”

Now Stan hesitates, confused.

The Bargainer is already walking towards it. “Keys,” he demands.

When Stan doesn’t hand them over, they float out of his pocket of their own accord. Des catches them in midair.

He raps on the hood of the vehicle. “In.Now.”

“What are you doing?” Stan demands. I can see the whites of his eyes.

“We’re going to visit the Otherworld.” Des unlocks the driver’s side door. “And once we get there, I’m going to feed you to the scariest motherfuckers I know.”

That’s enough to break the mighty Stan. The man begins to whimper even as he gets into the back of the car, and his fear is the most pitiful sound in all the world. I grimace at him. It’s as though he hadn’t known this day would come when he bought a favor from the Bargainer.

When Des’s eyes fall on me, they soften. “Apologies, cherub, for the wrench in our evening. I’ll drop you back off at your dorm. Get in.”

I head to the car and slide into the front passenger seat, the interior smelling like stale cigarette smoke.

More begging comes from the back. “Please, you don’t understand,” Stan says, leaning forward, “I have a family.”

“You have an estranged girlfriend and two children whom you don’t spend time or money on. Trust me, they’re better off without you.” The Bargainer pulls onto the dark road.

“I don’t want to die.” Stan begins to weep.