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“You don’t make deals with me, my dear. I’m not a fucking bank, and I don’t take payments unless they’re in blood. So, tell me… Who shall be paying today?” A sick smile creeps onto his face as he points the gun at my father.
Lorenzo’s cold, dark eyes stare into mine, and there isn’t an ounce of mercy there. He will shoot my father without blinking; he will shoot me without blinking. He isn’t the type of man who gives second chances.
“No!” I’m not sure where it comes from. All I know is I can’t face losing someone again. It will be as if I’m dead anyway.
He lowers the gun, turning his attention back to me.
Taking a step toward me, he stops when he is only inches away. His large body looms over mine, and I can feel his hot breath on my face as he looks down at me.
“Of course, I could make an exception for a pretty girl like you. Another form of payment.” I notice the way his eyes linger on my breasts, my body in general. I think he wants me. At the very least, he is intrigued by me.
“Me?” I whisper for his ears only. “You want me to work for you?” He pushes his longish black hair from his face as he continues to hold the gun in his hand like he is weighing his options carefully.
“I don’t know if I would call what I have in mind work. It might be kind of fun, depending on what you are into.” He grins, and his men laugh.
My father starts begging again but shuts up when Lorenzo shoots him a glare.
“What do you have in mind?” I ask, doing my best to keep my voice even.
“Well, you have three choices. One, you work at the brothel. Two, we can auction you off to the highest bidder. Three–in my opinion, the best choice–you come home with me.”
My mind is reeling. Options one and two are out immediately. Though, looking at the man in front of me, I wonder if that’s true. I can’t imagine the kind of things he wants me to do.
“Come home with you? What would I be doing at your place?” I ask as if I don’t already know the answer.
“I’m sure you can figure that out.” He smirks knowingly.
Sex… of course, he wants sex.
Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I ask, “How long would I have to stay with you?”
“Until I feel like the debt is repaid.”
Great, how long is that? A few days? Two weeks? I have to be back at school on Monday. I can’t just miss classes. Then again, we are talking about my father’s life here, which makes my college education meaningless in comparison.
“If I come with you, will you let my dad be? You won’t kill him?”
His eyes narrow, and for a brief second, I think he will say no.
“Deal, I won’t kill him…” I know he isn’t done, though. There is a “but” in there somewhere… “But if you run, I will kill him.”
Lorenzo’s hand snakes out, gripping the hem of my shirt. An icy, sweaty feeling of dread sweeps through my body. This can’t be happening.
He looks amused, yet deadly serious as my skin feels the burn of his hand slowly roaming up to the top of my shirt. I hear the tear of fabric as he rips my shirt to gain access to my chest, but I hardly notice because I’m held captive by the fear in my father’s eyes as Lorenzo’s men surround him.
“Please, stop!” my father yells.
One of Lorenzo’s men steps forward and slugs my father in the side of the head. Fury rises inside of me, and I slap the hand on my shirt away, but he grabs my wrist, holding me in place.
“You said that we had a deal!” I cry out. I only offered myself, so I could save my dad! I try to push his hand away again, but I’m obviously no match for him.
“The deal was that I won’t kill him. No one is killing him.”
I’m horrified as the thug’s grip my father’s head to hold him in place. The man who had guided me in here looks gleeful as he takes his place next to my dad and prepares to carry out his boss’s orders. Tears stream down my dad’s face as he waits for the pain to come. His eyes never leave mine, telling me how much he loves me and how sorry he is.
The brute’s fist lands against his face with a sickening crunch. Hearing my dad’s painful groans and seeing his blood gush out is just too much for me to handle, and I’m on the verge of collapsing. These thugs can’t do this! They have to stop. It’s wrong!
“Make them stop! Please. I will do whatever you tell me.” I’m screaming and sobbing as I plead with Lorenzo. My eyes beg for his to meet mine, but they still linger over my body. I’m close to being a hysterical, blubbering mess, but I have to keep my wits about me; I have to find strength. I have to do something. I can’t lose my dad.
