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“Tough titty, little shitty.”
“Please, honey. I know you’re hurting but if you mention Alessandro and Don Colombo hears about it, we might be in trouble.”
I hang up. I’m not having the same argument yet again. My father might think the sun shines out of Don Colombo’s ass but as far as I’m concerned, he shouldn’t get to sweep this under the rug. His son killed Jody, nearly killed both my parents. Not even charged with DUI. Got away with the whole thing.
I look up. The three men have pulled out a set of dirty playing cards and are dishing them out across the beer soaked table. Outside the window, the city continues to roll by. The gray clouds match my mood. It looks like rain. This time of year, it hardly ever stops. Halloween coming up. Jody’s favorite holiday.
I miss her so much it’s hurting to breathe.
I look up at the sky and find myself wishing as much as praying. I wish I had enough money to sort all this out. To pay for the funeral. To pay my parents' medical bills. To sue the ass off Alessandro Colombo, mafia Don’s son or not.
I imagine myself making it as a singer, platinum albums. Number one hits. Money rolling in. Then I could sue him. Make him pay for what he did.
The police aren’t even bothering to investigate properly. Didn’t breathalyze him despite the empty bottle of bourbon in the footwell of his car. Let him stagger away from the scene with his laughing friends while Jody lay there dying.
There’s a shriek. I look up and the three assholes have moved out of their seats. They’re now surrounding the woman who was sitting on her own. They’re reaching out, grabbing her tits, goading each other to do more, laughing at her like Alessandro laughed at the crash scene.
I could leave the carriage at the next stop. Not get involved. Be grateful they’re not doing it to me. I could look down and ignore the whole thing. Not my problem. Why get involved? I don’t know her. Why should I have to help?
I imagine them coming after me. Would I want her to walk away? To ignore me and my cries for help?
I get to my feet and walk toward them, my heart pounding as the men continue to mock her for begging them to leave her alone. “Sarah,” I say like I just recognized her. “Oh, my God, it’s been so long. How have you been? I haven’t seen you since your dad got promoted to detective.”
She wrinkles her brow as she turns to look at me. Then she realizes what I’m doing. “I’m good,” she says. “Sit with me, will you? We’ll catch up.”
The assholes stand up, looking from her to me. I slide into the vacated seat next to her and I realize too late, the whole thing was a trick.
The woman’s holding a knife, had it in her hand the entire time. She’s pressing it lightly into my stomach. One jab and she’ll cut me open. My heart freezes, my blood turning to ice. Terror rising up in me. I almost choke on it.
“What are you doing?” I ask her. “I’m trying to help you.”
The three men start laughing. “Worked like a charm, Betty,” Mohican says. “Now, hand over your purse, sweet tits. We reeled you in good, didn’t we?”
“She had a decent cellphone,” Black Teeth adds, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Get that too.”
“Come on,” Betty snaps. “We ain’t got all day, bitch.”
They’ve timed it perfectly. The train is slowing down for the next stop. By the time I hand over my stuff, the doors will be open and then off they’ll go. Like they were never here.
The woman is pressing the knife harder. I look down at it, frozen with fear. “This ain’t a lipstick,” she snaps. “Hand it all over or we open you up.”
“Why?” I ask, the word falling out of my mouth. “Why are you doing this?”
Black Teeth is sniggering. “Listen to the little princess. Sits there in a thousand dollar dress with a thousand dollar phone and thousand dollar teeth and she wants to know why we’re pissed at her?” He wipes his mouth again. “Lady, we’re Robin Hood, that’s who we are. Take from the rich and give to the poor. That’s us.”
“This dress was twenty bucks from Goodwill,” I want to say. I could add that my cellphone is ten years old and my purse has a buck eighty-five in it. I don’t say anything at all. I’m too scared.
There’s a screech of brakes as the train jolts to a stop. I go to shove past the men blocking the aisle. I catch them off guard, knocking them off balance enough to squeeze by.
I almost make it but Betty lunges for me with the knife, yelling at them to grab my purse. I try to run but a hand is on my shoulder, gripping it so tightly I cry out in pain.
“Should have handed over the stuff,” Mohican says, leaning close enough for me to smell the sweat coming off him. “Now we got to stick you on principle. Maybe scar those pretty titties of yours.”
He’s got hold of my right arm. Black Teeth gets the left. Betty is coming toward me, knife outstretched. Pirate Earring is giggling as he watches events unfold. The knife gets closer as I squirm to get free, yelling for someone, anyone, to help me.
That’s when I see him for the first time. Stupidly tall. Broad shoulders. Tree trunk arms. Expensive black suit. Dark eyes. Cellphone up to his ear. A sense of power emanating from him that’s so strong it’s racing down the carriage toward me.
He’s looking directly at me, unblinking. I’ve no idea who he is but I don’t care. All I care about is getting away from the knife slashing through the air, getting too close for comfort as I try to squirm free.
