But Mia sees right through it. “I’m not letting you walk back to Brownsville. It’s four a.m..”
“I said it’s fine!”
“Quit being stubborn and take this,” she says, marching over and shoving a couple of bills into my hand.
I grimace as I look at the three twenties she passed to me. “I don’t need your charity.”
“Then pay me back later,” she insists. “I will not be able to sleep tonight if you don’t get home safe. And you don’t want to see what happens when I have to run a shift on under eight hours of beauty sleep.”
I offer her a weak smile. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Then keep trying to.” She gives me a stern look before turning away. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”
I wave at her retreating figure and let out a long breath.
It has been seventeen years since I was last in Brooklyn. In that time, the streets have become nearly unrecognizable. Still, I’mable to find a cab within a few minutes after helping a group of party girls to the nearest fast-food chain.
The cab ride takes thirty minutes, and I have to fight with each passing second not to fall asleep.
Claudio’s home is in an apartment complex on the wrong side of Brownsville. Seventh floor, no elevator, and a new type of stench emanating from his neighbor's door every time I pass by.
Still, it’s more than I can afford while trying to save up for a place of my own.
When we left Ohio, Claudio told me I was welcome here. All I needed to do was keep the space clean, and what was his was mine. But I think a part of me always knew I needed a backup plan, just in case the worst were to happen.
Like if he were to suddenly decide I owed him seven thousand dollars worth of rent.
I shake off the sense of despair and switch on the lights. Claudio is still out, as he promised, leaving me to assess my life in the cold light of the fluorescents.
My new reality is far from the comforts of my family home in Ohio. Claudio has little interest in creature comforts like a bed frame or a dish rack. Everything lives in piles. Piles of plates, clothes, take-out boxes.
I don’t have the energy to deal with any of it, so I wander mindlessly to the bedroom and sink into the mattress.
Closing my eyes, I will sleep to take me quickly.
But something keeps nagging in the back of my mind.
“What would happen, do you think? If you broke up with him?”
Lose my job, probably. It’s the one good thing to come out of this mess, besides being able to reunite with Mia after almost two decade’s worth of a long-distance friendship.
Claudio’s face flashes through my mind—the expression he wore when he thought something might have happened between Rocco and me. He’d hurt me again, that was for sure.
But what if…
What if there was someone who could protect me from his wrath? Someone who seemed more than willing to put Claudio in his place. Someone with the power to do that and more.
Mia’s warning rings in my ears.
It’s a stupid, ridiculous idea. I’d likely be giving up one kind of prison for another.
But the thought lingers, and sleep continues to evade me.
And Claudio should definitely be home by now. I check my phone for the hundredth time. Nothing except the “goodnight” message I received from Mia an hour ago.
Six a.m. rolls around, then seven a.m. I sit up in anxious frustration. The sun will be rising soon, and there’s only one club that keeps its doors open twenty-four-seven for people like Claudio Lazzaro.
I check my wallet and count up Mia’s remaining cash as I make the call.
