Mackenzie

I debate whether to wake Theo. I’m desperate, but he’s passed out, and I’m not ready to face the awkwardness between us.

I dig through my purse and find my phone. It takes three failed attempts before I’m able to make my fingers work enough to dial the cab company.

A woman’s voice bristles on the other end.

I don’t let her finish before I burst out, “I left my bag in the back of one of your cars.”

A short silence, then the tapping of a keyboard on the other end. “Do you know the driver’s name, or the cab number?”

Shit. Of course, I don’t. I close my eyes and try desperately to remember anything about the driver, and come up with nothing.

“He picked me and my friend up outside Charlie’s Pub & Grill less than an hour ago.”

“And you’re sure it was our company?”

“Yes.” No. Tears sting the back of my eyes.

“If you give me your name and number I’ll make a note for when the drivers come off their shift.”

“I can’t wait that long.” Then, fear punches me in the gut. What if they open the bag? I don’t know exactly what’s in it, but I can guess. Drugs. A lot of drugs.

I’m totally and completely fucked. If the driver hands the bag over to the police and they can connect me with it, I’ll go to jail.

“Ma’am?” The woman is still talking. “If you give me your number–”

I hang up.

A sharp pain starts in my chest and radiates down my arms. I’m too young to have a heart attack, but the possibility seems extremely likely right now.

I walk the streets until my feet blister.

My brain is fuzzy, my body aching. I would go back to Charlie’s, but it’s closed, and the cabs are already gone. I think about going to the cab company, but if I show up and they’ve opened the bag, then I’m doubly screwed.

What should have been one of the most monumental nights of my life has turned into a nightmare. Worse, because you can at least wake up from a nightmare. There’s no way I’m getting out of this intact.

Either Stefano is going to kill me, or the police are going to arrest me.

There’s a suitcase in my room, under my bed, packed in case of an emergency. I need to get in, then get out, before Stefano realizes what I’ve done.

Despite what happened between us tonight, I know Theo will let me crash at his place. At least until I figure out what to do. Where to go.

It’s late, or early, depending on which way you look at it, when I reach my house. The lights are off. The sky is a dark purple, meaning the sun will be up soon.

I fumble with my keys, dropping them once before I’m able to steady my hands enough to get it in the lock.

Get the bag and get out. I repeat the mantra in my mind.

Slowly, I open the door, trying not to make a sound.

“Where the hell have you been?” In the shadows, Stefano is sitting in the worn La-Z-Boy, watching me, his eyes hooded and dangerous.

Every cell in my body goes on high alert.

I think about running. No. He might be big, but he’s fast, and I’m exhausted. I wouldn’t make it to the sidewalk before his big, meaty hands would be wrapped around my neck.

It was stupid coming here. But none of my actions tonight have been very smart. Maybe if I just tell him the truth…

“Where’s the bag?”

“I–”

He stands slowly, and one of his eyes begins to twitch. He’s big. Not Theo big, but Goliath big, and scary as hell. When he strides towards me, I know I’m in trouble.

“I’ll get it back. I promise. Just give me–”

He’s on me before I have a chance to react.

“Where’s the bag?” His fingers thread through my hair, yanking my head back.

“I-I lo-lost it.”

He backhands me so hard, I literally see stars. I thought it was just something in the cartoons, but no, there they are. Bright, white stars, blurring the grotesque face in front of me.

“What do you mean, you lost it?” His foul breath is hot and sticky against my cheek.

I need to bite my lip to keep from passing out or puking.

“It w-was a-an accident. I left it in th-the cab–”

His fist slams into my stomach, but the way he’s holding me I can’t buckle forward, and my cry sticks in my throat. He lands another shot, and I’m pretty sure he’s cracked a rib.

Bile rises in my throat.

“You left it in the fucking cab. Are you really that stupid?” He tightens his grip in my hair.

“I’m sorry.” Tears blur my vision, burning my eyes.

“You will be.”

I see the flash of metal, before I feel the cold steel against my throat. The blade cuts into my neck and I cry out.

He’s going to kill me.

“Do you have any fucking idea how much that bag was worth?”

He draws the blade lower along my collarbone, down to my breast, pulling my shirt down with it and grazing the skin.

“I’ll get it back.”

“Damn fucking right you will.” One hand is around my throat, cutting off my airway. He digs the blade deep into my left breast, twisting.

The pain is excruciating. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Sweat beads on my forehead, and it takes all my strength not to pass out.

“Stef?” My mother’s worried voice carries down the hall.

His fingers tighten momentarily, then he releases me.

I choke and cough, buckling over.

“Two days,” he sneers, pulling the switchblade back and pocketing it.

He doesn’t need to verbalize the threat. I know what he’ll do to me if I don’t get the bag back.

My mother leans unsteadily against the wall, obviously still drunk or high from whatever poison she put into her body last night.

She looks between me and Stefano, frowning. “What did she do now?”

What did I do?

In that moment, I hate her. No. I despise her.

“We’re just having a little chat.” Stef says, his dark eyes glittering with malice.

My mom staggers forward. She puts her arms around Stef’s barrel-sized chest and frowns at me as if I’m a five-year-old with her hand caught in the cookie jar. She doesn’t seem to notice the blood that trickles down my neck and chest, staining my shirt.

I want to scream at her. This is all her fault. If she hadn’t brought the bastard into our house, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have been forced to take that damn bag in the first place.

“Come to bed.” She pulls on Stef’s arm.

His breathing is labored, the threat in his eyes clear. He points at me with a big, meaty finger and snarls. “Two days.”

My breast throbs like a heartbeat where his knife dug deepest.

When their bedroom door shuts, I race down the hall and grab the emergency backpack from under my bed. I add a few more things. A small photo album. My grandmother’s ruby ring. The gray sweatshirt Theo gave me last Christmas. Anything I have of any value. I don’t plan on coming back.

The sun is low in the sky when I finally stumble down the hall of Theo’s apartment building. My entire body feels like it’s on fire. I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I rest my forehead on the door and knock.

No answer. He’s probably still passed out.

I keep banging. “Theo.”

The door creaks open. I press my palm against it, pushing, but the chain stops it from opening fully.

What the hell? “Theo?”

“He’s sleeping. What do you want?” A blonde peers through the slit. Her hair tousled, makeup smeared. I’m pretty sure she’s wearing one of Theo’s shirts and nothing else.

I didn’t think there was any emotion left in me, but I was wrong. I’ve heard people talk about a broken heart, but I’d never actually experienced it until this moment. My chest feels like it’s been split in two. I can’t breathe.

“Are you all right?” She opens the door a crack more and I recognize her. She’s one of the girls Theo’s friends were hitting on at Charlie’s. “You’re that waitress, right? You want me to tell Theo you stopped by?”

Stopped by? I’m pretty sure the synapses in my brain have stopped firing.

I stumble backwards, blinking, trying to right the world, but it just keeps crashing down on me.

I don’t think, I just run. I don’t even think about where I’m going. I just know I have to get away.

Far away from Theo, Stefano, and this godforsaken town.