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“What do you mean?” I asked.
Johnny grabbed my phone and scrolled to the number of the police officer. He did not pick up on the first ring, but on the second, he did. Johnny handed the phone to me and asked me to tell him what I knew. “Officer! Maria Doyle, here.”
“Of course, Maria. How are you doing? How's the arm?"
“It’s much better, just a bit of pain here and there. Besides, I think I found a lead in the case. I figured out who it was that had run me over. A man named Angelo Preston. I’m not sure about this, but I think he lives here in the city, do you think you can work with that?”
There were a few seconds of silence on the line before the voice came back to life. “Yeah, sorry I lost you for a second. The line is breaking up. What did you say?”
I repeated myself, but just as I did, the call ended. I tried to call again, but Johnny stopped me. “Look, he’s on the payroll. That means, he’s taking money from Angelo and won’t do anything to get him in trouble.”
“Fuck it, then I find another officer.”
“Then what?” Johnny asked, getting to his feet. “You get him arrested, he gets put on bail, pays and gets out. You take him to court, and God knows you’ll be lucky to find a lawyer who is dumb enough to represent you. And even if you do, they suddenly die under suspicious circumstances. Look, I’m saying that it is better for you to be on his side, than to be against him. Listen to me on this one.”
“I can’t do what he’s asking.”
“I’m not asking you to, I’m saying you should go meet him, talk to him, explain yourself, and just hope that he decides to give you your life back.”
“And if he refuses?” I asked, “What then?”
“Sorry, I don’t have all the answers. I have told you what I think you should do, and you went crazy.”
I left his house in a rage, wondering how I had gotten mixed up in something so messed up. I was not going to be the woman who gave in, but fighting wasn’t going to be an option from everything Johnny had said. I called the officer again on my way out, and it turned out that his number was unreachable.
I didn’t know much about the mafia outside of movies, but I knew that they were most likely involved in a lot of crimes across the city, which was why Johnny knew of them. They were also naturally deadly enemies, which was why Johnny and Officer Kensington feared them.
I went back home to find my mother fast asleep. She seemed to be doing better with the new drugs I had her on, but soon we would be without a house and all of it would be for nothing.
I had left in the morning hoping that I would be able to do something to change our fate, that I would find a way to make life easier for us. But it turned out everything had changed for me, and for us. I considered telling my mother, but I knew what she would say already.
I needed to make sure that we would have a roof over our heads. I could not bear to think of all the horrors that would face us if we decided to move to a woman’s shelter. The system would swallow us, and the already horrid state of my credit would grow even worse. Being stuck between a rock and a hard place was not what I had planned to do with my life, but it seemed like it was about to play out that way. I squared my shoulders and walked into the bathroom to take a good, hard look at myself.
My fiery red hair was in matted in clumps around my face, and I noticed that my eyebags were getting worse. I was paler than ever, thanks to being stuck at work or home all the time. I couldn’t help but feel like the most unattractive woman in the whole world. I sighed and grabbed my phone and the card Angelo had left behind for me. I tapped in his number and hesitated before I hit the dial button. I had to be calm and try to work things out with him. Taking control of my emotions, I hit dial. After a few rings, he picked up.
“I was starting to doubt you’d call,” Angelo began.
"Well, it was a last resort,” I replied dryly. I ground my teeth, seething at the opportunity to ask him to go fuck himself after destroying my life. “I just called to see if you were home.”
“You don’t know where I live… Though for you, let’s say I am always home.”
“Okay, then,” I replied anxiously, not sure of what to say next.
“I’ll send you a car to come to pick you up in an hour.”
A random car coming to pick me up sounded like a bad idea. I did not want him sending a limo or something that would give the neighbors the wrong idea. “How about you send me your address, and I’ll see to it myself.”
Angelo thought about it. “As you wish. I’ll text it to you now,” he said in the end.
I ended the call, still feeling like I would regret my decision. A second later, I received a text with his address and instructions on taking the elevator for going up to his floor.
I got in the shower and grabbed a comb, getting the knots out of my hair and styling it up the best I could. After the shower, I got out and searched for the nicest dress I had. I wasn’t trying to look good for him, but I had to buy his favor again. At least, that’s what I said to myself. I knew there was a small part of me that was attracted to him. A black cocktail dress won the competition, and I put it on with the smallest pair of heels I could find. I applied a bit of lip-gloss, which was as far as I would go for makeup. A second look in the mirror told me just how cheap I looked. Beautiful, but cheap.
As I forced down the temptation to change my mind and sit at home, I made some macaroni and cheese and left it out for my mother to eat when she woke up. Then I locked the door and headed out to get a taxi. As I stepped out, the sky threatened to rain as lightning flashed over the sky. I swore as I was reminded of the night they had run me over.
The taxi got me to the building unceremoniously, the rain still threatening to fall but holding back for now. I got out and walked through the large glass doors of the building that housed his penthouse. The lobby was exquisite, with fancy chairs and Mahogany desks spread all around. Inside it were a few men and women drinking. They did not notice me enter, save for one who sat by the door. I recognized him as Benny, the one who had come to the hospital with Angelo. He walked up to me and ran over me with a metal detector as if I would be carrying some sort of weapon.
Once he was done, he pointed me to the elevator and hit the button himself, allowing me to take the trip up on my own. The elevator seemed to take forever to get to the penthouse, but when its steeled doors finally parted, I found myself face to face with the home of none other than Angelo Preston.
