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her. With a predatory grin, Campanella stepped forward, grabbed her wrist, and pressed the tip of his cigar into Avery’s exposed forearm. He held it there for several seconds until it was completely extinguished.
    Avery screamed, knees buckling, and would have collapsed if Tony hadn’t been holding her. Tears spilling from her eyes, she swallowed convulsively to keep from throwing up.
    From across the room Jeff shouted, “No! Leave her alone!” He rushed toward Avery. He didn’t get two steps before Rat Face intercepted him, delivering a vicious blow to his abdomen. Jeff sagged to the floor with a groan.
    Avery shook her head, trying to clear it. The pain and the terror made it difficult to form a coherent thought. Think, think, think. The only two things a man like Joe Campanella understands are money and money . In a quavering voice she pleaded, “Give me till the end of the month, please, and I’ll pay you double what Justin owed.”
    A calculating look came across Campanella’s face. “Let her go,” he ordered Tony. Avery swayed unsteadily on her feet. “No, my dear. You’ll pay triple . Or Tony and Vito will be back.” He glanced pointedly at Jeff. “And I promise there will be collateral damage. Do I make myself clear?”
    She nodded wanly, and Campanella turned dismissively from her. As the mobsters left, she watched helplessly as Vito Rat Face gave Jeff a parting kick in the ribs. The minute the door shut, Avery rushed over to Jeff, kneeling at his side. “Are you all right?”
    “Yeah, I’m ok. Just had the wind knocked out of me. It’s you I’m worried about.” He turned over her hand to look at her arm. “Geez, Avery. That’s probably a third degree burn. It’s going to leave a scar.”
    She pulled her hand away, avoiding eye contact. “It’s probably not that bad.”
    “Yeah, right. Hey, help me to the couch, would ya?” With her help he stumbled to his feet. She got underneath his arm, and he leaned on her for support. They shuffled over to the faded second hand vinyl sofa and sat down. Putting one arm over his stomach, he laid the other over the back of the couch inviting her to lean in. She rested her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. He stroked her hair as tears trickled down her face. “Avery, where in the world are you going to come up with that kind of cash?”
    Her shoulders slumped even further, and her voice was muffled in his shirt, “I don’t know, Jeff. I just don’t know.”
     

     
    “MARCUS JUST CALLED,” Trevor announced when Avery admitted him into the apartment early the next morning. “You look terrible. What’s wrong?” he asked, noting her rumpled appearance and bloodshot eyes.
    “Nothing,” she lied, striving for a neutral tone while pulling down her sleeve to cover up Campanella’s burn. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was drag Trevor into that situation.
    “I don’t believe you kid.” Trevor eyed her suspiciously. “I’m your manager. Managers need to know everything. It’s like a law or something.”
    “She’s just trying to protect you, Trevor.” Walking out from his bedroom, Jeff spilled, “Joe Campanella came by yesterday.”
    “ The Joe Campanella? The mobster? Avery, how in the world did you get mixed up with him?”
    “Not her. Justin,” Jeff answered, ignoring her glare and zip it up gesture. “He owed Campanella money and they’re leaning on her for payment.” He put on his jacket and headed for the door. Glancing back at them over his shoulder, he said, “Avery, don’t give up hope. We’ll figure something out. I’m late for work, but we’ll talk when I get home.”
    When the door shut behind him, Trevor looked back at Avery, his brown eyes full of sympathy. “I don’t need a guy like Campanella pressuring one of my clients.” He pulled out his checkbook. “Let me loan you the money. It’s not a big deal.”
    She put her hand over his. “No. Absolutely not! No