Melinda
Antonio slowly opened my bedroom door. The silence was chilling – almost scarier than the sounds of the men partying below had been when I’d first gotten home. The door squeaked on the hinges, and I shuddered.
Cold sweat broke out over my neck. I glanced at Antonio, suddenly panicked. “We can’t do this!” I whispered. “I’m not brave enough! Something bad is going to happen, Antonio! I just know it!”
“Shush, baby,” Antonio whispered. He kissed my cheek. “I know you can do this, Melinda. I’m proud of you. Remember how strong you are,” he added. “I know that together, we’ll make it out of this alive.”
A terrifying vision popped into my head – Antonio and myself, bound and gagged, bruised and bloody. I shivered. If Dad or any one of his goons caught me, I knew everything was over.
Closing my eyes, I thought of Alexander’s sneer. His ugly twisted face, that shiny blonde hair that he was so vain about. I thought about the entitled way he’d grabbed me and sneered at me and told me I was going to have to shape up for him.
Something odd happened – my fear and panic began to shift into something colder, something harder. An icy ball of resolve formed in my stomach. I took a deep breath, holding my head high.
I looked at Antonio. “I’m ready,” I whispered.
Antonio grabbed my fingers, lacing them with his own. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it, then gave my fingers a squeeze.
“I love you,” Antonio said. “We got this, Melinda.”
“I love you, too,” I whispered back.
Antonio pulled the door open the rest of the way and gestured for me to step out into the hallway. I wasn’t carrying much – just a backpack with a few pairs of panties, another pair of jeans, and my purse. Still, I felt like I was carrying the load of Atlas as I stepped into the hall and edged along the plush carpeting.
Antonio took a deep breath, and we walked down the hall, one behind the other. My father’s suite was all the way at the end of the house. The hallway opened up to a railing that overlooked the living room.
Fear pierced my heart as Antonio and I edged closer and closer to the exposed part of the hall. The downstairs was still silent, but I didn’t trust my father and his men.
My heart thudded in my chest, as loud as a drum in my own ears. Pulling my hand free from Antonio, I wiped my forehead and reached out to steady myself on the bannister. I turned back and smiled at him, as if to say, See? This is the easy part.
Antonio nodded. He looked serious – his eyes were grave and his strong jaw was clenched. I couldn’t help being struck by how handsome he looked in the soft lighting of the hallway. His dark eyes were intelligent and strong. His neck was bunching with muscles, and the stubble that dusted his jaw made me want to kiss him.
I tore my eyes away from Antonio and took another step. The carpet was quiet beneath me, and I sighed with relief as I made it past the exposed part of the hall. Just as Antonio was about to follow me to safety, I heard a slam from downstairs, followed by a stream of voices.
“Rodrigo, we gotta get more booze,” a brassy male voice slurred. “I’m startin’ to sober up!”
My father’s laughter was harsh. “You’re a fucking pussy,” he said. “You can’t even stand up straight.”
The other man laughed. There was a ripple of laughter and I panicked once again as I tried to count all of the voices. It sounded like there were eight, maybe nine men downstairs. Big brawny men with guns.
Antonio and I – no matter how strong he was – would be no match for them.
Antonio glanced at me with fear in his eyes. He jerked his head, motioning for me to keep moving. But my fear of the voices and laughter downstairs rooted me to the spot.
“Rodrigo, there’s more booze in the garage,” Marty said. “You want me to get it?”
“I don’t care,” my father muttered. He laughed. “Soon, we’ll really have something to celebrate.”
“Hey, Boss!” The sound of Alexander’s voice made me freeze. “I’m gonna go see Melinda – give her a little preview of tomorrow night!”
Antonio’s eyes went wide but I grabbed his hand and motioned for him to stay put. There was a rush of masculine laughter and the sounds of back slapping.
“No, Alexander,” my father said. “Leave her alone until tomorrow.”
“But she’s mine,” Alexander whined. I could practically picture him making a face and throwing a tantrum like a little kid. “I want her!”
“Tomorrow, Alexander,” my father snapped. “Now go get me another cigar. We’re celebrating, aren’t we?”
Relief washed over my body as the group of men moved out of the living room and down the hall to Dad’s office. Antonio and I scurried down the hall into the master suite and closed the door behind us.
I was sweating and shaking. For a moment, I hunched over and rested my hands on my knees. I’m not going to throw up, I thought. I’m not going to throw up. I just have to keep breathing and this will all be okay in the end. Everything is going to be fine.
Antonio patted me on the back. “Come here,” he whispered. He jerked his head to the side. “We need to find the window.”
“It’s in here,” I whispered back. Even though I knew it wouldn’t slow the guards down much if we got caught, I locked Dad’s bedroom door behind us. Beckoning to Antonio with my index finger, I stepped past him and threw my backpack on the bed.
I kneeled on the floor before Dad’s dresser. Closing my eyes, I murmured a quick prayer and pulled open the bottom drawer. Inside was a layer of flannel shirts and jeans. As quietly as I could, I threw the shirts on the floor and fitted my fingers into a groove on the bottom of the drawer.
A splinter pierced my skin and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I had to work my hands back and forth before the drawer popped off and I was able to set the false bottom to the side.
Antonio whistled from behind me. I turned to him, nodding.
Inside the drawer were wads of cash and a gun. I didn’t want to waste time counting, but there were at least ten stacks of ten thousand dollars each. Spinning around, I grabbed my backpack and shoved five inside.
After a moment’s hesitation, I grabbed the gun, too. I checked to see if it was loaded, then turned off the safety before sticking it inside the bag.
“Come on,” Antonio hissed. “We’re taking too long.”
I nodded. I threw the false bottom and the shirts back in the drawer then left it open. After all, Dad was going to find out what Antonio and I were doing anyway. It didn’t matter if we robbed him, too.
“Come on,” Antonio repeated. “Come to the window. Now. We gotta go, Melinda.”
Just as Antonio was unfastening the lock and pushing the panes up, I paused and grabbed his arm.
“What?”
“Wait,” I said quietly. “Just a second, okay?”
I turned on my heel and scampered back to the dresser. There was a tiny drawer in the center. I pressed it with three of my fingers and out popped out a tiny groove of wood, just large enough for me to grab with my hand.
I eased the hidden drawer out, biting at the inside of my cheek the whole time. Inside was a felt roll the size of a small burrito. As carefully as I could, I spread it out on the bed.
Diamonds and sapphires and rubies and pearls glinted up at me. Some were loose, some were set in gold. There was a large emerald-cut diamond that was tempting, but I pushed it to the side, knowing I wouldn’t be able to sell anything that distinctive on the black market anyway. Finally, I saw what I was looking for. It was a tarnished silver chain and locket. The chain was as fine as floss, and the locket was so dirty it didn’t even shine in the dim lighting of the bedroom.
Licking my lips, I opened it carefully, peering at the faded photo inside.
My mother.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I had to do this. I hope you would understand.”
Bringing the locket to my lips, I kissed my mother’s image before unfastening the chain and slipping it around my neck.
Antonio looked more frantic than ever. “It’s quieting down,” he whispered as he struggled to push the window all of the way up. “I think Rodrigo’s men are leaving.”
I swallowed and nodded, glancing around my father’s bedroom. When I was little, I’d always begged to play in the master suite. Dad had owned a waterbed at that time, and the only television in the whole house had been perched in front of it. He almost never said yes when I asked, though – only when I’d done something really nice, like gotten a perfect report card.
For a moment, I was hit with a powerful wave of nostalgia. I closed my eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to be a little kid, happy and safe and secure in Daddy’s bedroom while he conducted business with his friends. But the feeling evaporated after only a few seconds.
I wasn’t the little girl I’d once been. And my father was no more a hero to me. It was painful, but I was starting to realize that he hadn’t kept me safe and sheltered out of love, or wanting to protect his little girl from the dangers and evils of the world.
He’d protected me because I was a business asset he’d been planning to use later on, when he needed me.
The thought was enough to make me sick.
Antonio gently touched my arm. “Melinda, we have to go,” he whispered urgently. “We’re running out of time.”
I took one last look around my father’s bedroom before nodding in agreement. “I know,” I said softly. “I’m just thinking.”
“You can think later,” Antonio urged. “We need to get out of here.”
I sighed. “I don’t ever want to think about this ever again,” I said, following Antonio to the open window. “I’m fine with leaving the past here.”