by Alexa Riley
“You’re really hard up for money?” He was sitting beside me on the curb now, and I could see how his eyes were a little bloodshot, his pupils a little dilated. He seemed jumpy, but by the way he acted I could assume he was just nervous.
Or juiced up on something.
“I mean, I guess,” I said, my eyebrows pulled down, my confusion strong.
He was silent for long seconds, fidgeting with his apron, looking nervous as hell. “I know a guy who can help.”
“That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”
He kept looking around, and I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end. “I think I’ll pass on whatever it is you’re offering.”
“Sorry,” he said and exhaled. “But I do know someone who can help. He helps a lot of people.”
“Yeah, out of the kindness of his heart I assume.”
Marshall shrugged. “Here.” He reached in his apron and grabbed a pen and piece of paper. He wrote down an address, then handed it to me.
I glanced down at it, not sure where this part of the city was. “Thanks?” I said, because this seemed pretty shifty.
“But seriously, he can help.” Marshall stood and headed back inside. I should have tossed the address, because no way in hell this sounded legit or even safe. But for some reason I put it in my apron and stood.
What I knew for sure was nothing was free.
CHAPTER FOUR
I COULD BARELY KEEP my eyes open as I drove my shitty car back to my shittier apartment. I took the last right onto the street, saw the apartment building looming up ahead, and parked right at the curb. For a second I just sat there, listening to the engine cooling, that clicking. I did this every day when I came home, dreading going in there, hating that I’d be alone.
No real friends.
No family that gave a shit about me.
One day a month where I let loose, where I pretended to be someone else.
That was my life summed up.
I stopped feeling sorry for myself and headed inside. The elevator was broken, had been for the last month. I doubted it would get fixed anytime soon, not unless a bunch of people complained. Which they wouldn’t, because anyone who lived here didn’t really care about anything.
The first two flights of stairs were easy, the third and fourth made me realize I was out of shape. Thighs burning, lungs seizing, I adjusted my messenger bag and took the last step. My head was downcast, my focus on the dirty ground with the cracked and peeling linoleum. When I lifted my head, the first thing I saw was my apartment door cracked open. My heart stalled. I’d locked it. I knew I had. This was a bad neighborhood, and although I didn’t have shit worth a grain of salt in there, having someone break in was an invasion.
I should have called the cops, but again this was a bad neighborhood, and even if the cops did come by, it would take forever, and they’d assume I just didn’t lock the door.
I had my keys in my hand, the metal sticking out between my fingers. I’d use it as a weapon if I had to. Creeping slowly toward the door, I pushed it open with my shoe. I could have maybe asked one of my neighbors to come with me, but with them being drunks, junkies, or senile, I didn’t think they would be much help. Besides, everyone here kept to themselves and didn’t worry about others…it was usually safer that way.
The door swung open, and I saw that my place had been trashed. It hadn’t been a looker to begin with, and I really had nothing of value…expect my coffee can. My heart started beating a static rhythm. I shut the door, my safety not coming into play at this moment as I rushed to the kitchen. The cupboards were all open, the few dishes I had crashed to the floor. And there, among the shards of thrift-store ceramic, was my coffee can. It was on its side, the lid a foot away. I knew it would be empty even before I picked it up with a shaking hand.
I’d been saving any little amount of money from my paychecks, putting a dollar in the can here or there, or a few quarters. It was sometimes my free-for-one-day-a-month fund, what I’d dip into to buy a few drinks if I had any extra. Hell, I used it to put gas in my car when money was really tight.
I sat on the floor, my legs feeling like they’d give out, my heart in my throat. The sadness was soon replaced with anger. I cried, hating that I couldn’t do better, knowing I deserved better. I tossed that fucking coffee can across the kitchen, the metal slamming against the cupboard. Then I put my head in my hands and cried, just bawled because there was nothing else to do. Maybe I didn’t have that much money in the coffee can anyway. Maybe I shouldn’t have even had money around, or hid it better.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
There were a lot of things I could have, should have done differently. In the end, my life was still the same, still broken, twisted and gnarled, with the light I thought I needed drifting further away. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to have that light. Maybe I only deserved the darkness.
Maybe that’s what made me stronger.
I lifted my head, wiped the tears away angrily, and realized what I had in my pocket. I pulled that slip of paper out, the address scribbled across it seeming so damn ominous. Everything in me screamed to throw it away, but the reality of my situation was I was falling deeper into a hole. I just needed to get on my feet, find a second job, and then I could look for something better for myself, something that wasn’t infested with hatred and anger.
My hand was still shaking when I shoved the paper back into my pocket. I stood, held my keys tighter, and headed out the door. I didn’t bother locking it this time. Because what was the point?
I PULLED my car to a stop, leaned forward, and stared up at the building. It looked abandoned, decay and age written all over it. Glancing at the piece of paper again, I knew this was the right place, but it looked fucked up for sure.
This is stupid. Get the fuck out of here.
About to do just that, because I’d rather scrape by than end up dead, I went to pull away. The sound of someone pounding on the hood of my car had a startled cry leaving me. The man in front of the car was wearing a hood and a dark mask that only covered half of his face. He took a step back, my headlights illuminating him. He was dressed head to toe in black, his body still in front of my vehicle. I could have mowed him down if I’d really wanted to get the hell out of there, which I did. But the truth was I was scared shitless. And I knew he wasn’t alone.
The sound of banging at the back of my car had my heart racing so hard it was painful.
“Turn the car off.” The deep voice beside my car had me jumping. When I didn’t move, he held up a gun, tapping the barrel on the glass of my driver’s side window. “Move it,” he shouted.
I turned the key, shutting the car off. It felt like I’d unplugged my lifeline.
“Get out of the fucking car.”
I was too scared to try and make a run for it, the images of bullets flying through my car and slamming into me playing like a grotesque movie reel in my head.
I was out of the car faster than I thought I could move, and instantly pushed up against the side of the vehicle, the metal cold, hard, and unforgiving. The guy keeping me flat on the car started patting me down like I was packing a weapon. Surely they could see how terrified I was. I was spun around so fast my head swam. This guy was wearing the same mask, his eyes shrewd, dark.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I…I…” My mouth wouldn’t work, the words not coming out, not being formed properly.
“Speak up, you fucking bitch, or I’ll really give you something to stutter about.” He placed the barrel of the gun at my abdomen, pressing it in, showing me who was in charge.
“Marshall gave me the address, said a man could help me.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, and I was proud and terrified I’d spoken them. I could hear how scared I sounded. I was scared, shaking, my nails digging into my palms. I was surprised there wasn’t blood on my hands, a testament to the violence swirling in the air. I glanced around. Four men, all of them dressed the same.
Thugs.
“People
need to learn to keep their mouths shut.”
He’s referring to Marshall. God, I shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have named him. I was so scared.
Before I knew what was happening, I was being hauled away from the car and toward the building. I tripped over my feet, but the guy holding on to my arm squeezed tighter. I wasn’t foolish enough to think he would care if I fell on my face.
We entered the building through this rusted-as-hell door. One of the guys hung outside, and the other three all but pushed me inside. The stench of dirt and mold was almost unbearable, and I coughed. Was that why they wore the masks? Or was it to make people like me know how low I was to them, how dangerous they really were?
I was pushed through a set of doors, then pulled down a long hallway. Another door. Another hallway. I felt like we’d been walking forever, going deeper, the chill in the air becoming more intense. Finally we pushed through a door, and I could see tables all around. Guns and drugs littered the tables.
It was then I knew that there was no going back. They’d let me see this, and although I didn’t know what their faces looked like, I knew where they holed up.
“Ricky, yo, we got a live one here.” The man holding my arm finally let go. He pushed me forward, and I stumbled again, catching myself on a table covered in large square-shaped bags wrapped in duct tape.
I glanced up at the one named Ricky, my throat dry, tight. I expected him to have the same getup as his thugs, but he was wearing dirty jeans, an equally filthy shirt, and sporting greasy hair. He had a cigarette hanging from his too-thin lips, and he eyed me up and down. I felt naked in that moment.
God, what have I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER FIVE
“YOU’RE SCARING HER. EASE UP,” Ricky said to the guys behind me. And although he might be trying to make me calm, his too-pleasant voice and the way he smiled made my skin crawl.
I straightened, clutching my hands to my stomach. I knew it was a defensive move, probably making me seem weaker.
“What’s your name?”
I had a feeling lying to this guy wouldn’t do me any good. Hell, I’d left my bag in the car, and I was sure they’d already rummaged through it, seeing my driver’s license, where I lived.
“Sofia.” I only gave him my first name, hoping he didn’t press for anything else.
“How did you find out about this place, about me?”
I rubbed my hands on my jeans and glanced behind me at the three guys. When I faced Ricky again, I realized he’d moved closer. “I got your name and address from a guy I know.”
He cocked his head. “A guy you know?”
“Marshall,” one of the thugs said.
“Marshall has a big mouth,” Ricky said, still eyeing me, making me feel dirty with the way he looked at me. “But that’s what you get with a junkie.”
“I…I don’t think I should be here.” The words came from me before I could stop them. I knew better than to think they’d just let me go.
“Calm down,” he said, moving closer. I couldn’t move, though, and even if I could, I knew there wouldn’t be anywhere for me to run to. “You clearly need something, and I’m here to help.” He held out his arms, his ego grand. “Tell me, Sofia, what do you need from me?” There he went, looking me up and down, making me want to go take a shower, wash off his presence. “Go on, tell me. You’re wasting precious time here.”
“No, I don’t think I need anything.”
“Fucking tell me what you need.” He slammed his fist down on the table, causing one of the duct-taped squares to roll off another. I jumped, my heart racing, the sound filling my head.
“I came here for money.” This man was crazy. I could see it on his face, in the way his eyes shifted back and forth. He smelled like booze and cigarettes, sweat and degradation.
He grinned, and it was an ugly sight. “Money? I can help you with that.” He gestured me closer, and although I wanted to run out of there, I wasn’t a total moron. They’d catch me, and I nearly vomited at the thought of what they would do to me.
I took a step closer, my throat so dry, my mind rushing with what I could do to get out of here. He took me to one of the tables off to the back, where I saw piles of cash. Some were in bundles wrapped with plastic, while others were clearly in the process of being counted. He took a stack and handed it to me. I didn’t take it, my limbs feeling like lead, fear too strong in me to even move.
“Go on, take it,” he said, his face almost jovial. I shook my head, an act I didn’t even know I was doing until it was done. His face hardened. “You’re going to come to my place of business, asking for help, and then refuse what I offer?” God, he was insane, his shifty-as-hell eyes looking at me, checking me out. He was probably thinking some pretty disgusting thoughts.
“I…I couldn’t pay you back, not that much.” I stared at the stack of money. It could easily get me out of the hole I was in, but that was not something I could repay, not in this lifetime.
He shrugged. “We can work something out.” He looked at my breasts, and the need to cover myself, despite being fully clothed, rode me hard.
“Actually, I’ve changed my mind. Thank you for the offer, but I’ll just go.” I started to back up, but the feeling of a hard body behind me made me stop. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was one of his masked men.
Ricky took a step forward. He was so close now that the disgusting scent of him washed over me. “No, you’ll take this, because you’re already here.” He grinned, revealing crooked, yellowing teeth. “Because if you don’t take it, Sofia,” he said, lifting his gaze to mine, “if you don’t take this money, I can’t let you go.” He tipped his head to the side. “You understand what I’m saying?”
You’ve already seen us. You already know where we do our illegal shit. If you go, we’ll have to kill you.
“I understand,” I said, my voice threadbare. But I straightened my shoulders, not wanting to appear weak. That would make them attack like a pack of wild hyenas.
“Good,” Ricky said and all but shoved the money at me. “We can work out payment details later.” He eyed me again, that disgusting smile on his face. “In the meantime, don’t try and run, because Bobbie boy got all your information from your ID.”
I turned and looked over my shoulder. One of the masked men held up my purse. Yeah, I’d assumed they’d go through my shit. “And if I can’t pay you back?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm, collected.
Ricky’s grin faded, and he got this crazed look in his eyes—even more than what was already going on. “Everyone ends up paying one way or another. We always find a way.”
CHAPTER SIX
SEVERAL DAYS LATER
I HAD no intentions of spending this money, not when my life was going to be the collateral if I couldn’t repay it.
I stared at the stack, that wad of cash sitting on my shitty table like a lead weight. I could have said I didn’t want it, tried to make a run for it, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think I would have made it out of there alive.
“You stupid girl.” I rested my head in my hands, the tears threatening to come out, but my self-hatred made everything else stand down. But for as stupid as I was for even going there, and allowing my emotions at this horrible time to consume me, I also knew just giving back the money wasn’t enough. They’d want interest, and whatever that interest was had never been discussed.
I grabbed the money, went over to the sink, and bent down. Behind the pipes was a loose piece of wall. After popping it off, I shoved the cash back there. I had just found the “secret” space earlier in the week, and even though I hadn’t known about it before, I cursed myself for not putting the damn coffee can there to begin with. Once I shoved the few decades-old cleaning supplies out of the way to make it not look obvious I had been messing around under the sink, I got up and headed to work. I didn’t know how much worse this situation could get, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t get any easier.
“Does
anyone know where Marshall is, or has anyone heard from him?” Silence greeted Rita, the lead for the day. “He hasn’t been to work in three days, and I can’t get ahold of him.”
My heart started beating faster. I hadn’t seen him since that day he gave me Ricky’s address. And although I could have said I was overreacting, something deep inside of me said I’d been the one to cause his disappearance.
I started sweating, beads forming between my breasts, along my spine.
“Well, if anyone speaks with him, tell him he’s out. He’s been fired. We can only handle so many no-call and no-shows.”
My heart was thundering hard now, and as I watched Rita leave, I knew I was to blame. If anything had happened to Marshall, it was because of me. I’d opened my mouth, and now he hadn’t been to work. I had to see him, to make sure he was okay at the very least. I had know that my foolishness and big mouth hadn’t killed him. I might not have known him very well, but he didn’t deserve to die.
I finished out the workday, my mind jumbled, a mess, threads of worry, confusion, and fear for my own safety weighing on me. The image of that money sitting on my table, and the implications of it all was a heavy weight, making the panic rise to a blistering level.
I fished my car keys out of my purse, waited until I saw Rita leave to go up front, and slipped into the manager’s office. With the coffee shop still running on actual employee files instead of them being on the computer, I was able to find Marshall’s address easily enough.
Once I was in my car and heading toward his place, I felt my heart thunder. My chest ached, the reality of my life and where I was right now making me sick to my stomach. When I pulled up to Marshall’s housing unit, I held on to my steering wheel even harder. He lived in a shittier neighborhood than I did. The sound of sirens in the distance was barely discernable. What I did hear was men shouting, crude language being thrown around, and glass shattering.
Before I could talk myself into just leaving, because I didn’t want to be put in an even crazier situation, the front door opened and a woman who looked worse for wear came out. She had shorts on high enough they left nothing to the imagination. Her legs had bruises on them, and her shirt was a piece of fabric barely covering her large breasts. Her hair was a rat’s nest atop her head, the black roots coming out an inch before her bleach-blonde hair. I could see the track marks easily enough on the insides of her elbows, but I grabbed on to my courage and reached over to roll down the window.
