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“What’shmm? You’re not Sherlock Holmes.”
“I don’t need to be. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. I don’t mean to pry.”
She glances at the doors, her features tight.
“I read some stories about construction in the city. Apparently, there have been union strikes. I heard it’s getting ugly. Threats and stuff like that.”
Since Mom died, Rosa has been reluctant to share her problems with me. I get why. She’d prefer if I unloaded on her, but that’s never been our dynamic since we were kids.
I’m always the listener. I like that.
“Oh, yeah,” Rosa says. “That.”
“Does it have anything to do with—”
We both jump to our feet when the doors burst open. I step back, knowing the fumes of this city have to be worse than the West Coast. I’m hallucinating. A half-naked man emerges into the garden, a streak of blood down his face. He’s panting, scrawny, with shell-shocked eyes and a large chunk torn from his hair.
A second later, one of Rosa’s staff members appears. Like most Italians, he wears a slick suit, and his earpiece and sunglasses tell me he’s security.
The half-naked man turns and spreads his arms. “You can’t do this.”
“Get over here.”
The man leaps, grabs a vase, and throws it. The guard tries to approach, but after the vase shatters—Rosa gasps, grabs my arm, and I stare dumbfounded—the man grabs a shard. He squeezes, not caring it causes him to bleed, and waves it at the guard.
“I’ll cut you to pieces.” The man’s accent is heavy, maybe Russian. “I’ll slice you up good.”
Soon, more guards join the first four. They fan out around the half-naked man and then close in. One takes a slice to the forearm, grunting in pain, but soon they’ve got him pressed against the floor with a knee in his back and a blade to his throat.
Deep in the back of my mind, past the shock, a small voice whispers, So, this is what I’ve been missing.
It seems so obvious now.
>One click Kidnapped by My Best Friend’s Dad<
CRUSHING ON THE BILLIONAIRE
Jane
This is my happy place: headphones on, sitting at my computer, heavy metal music blasting in my ears as I tap the keys. The programming book is open to the side of my keyboard. The equations and processes are so much simpler than people.
Programming will never abandon me, leave me stranded for almost a week, shaking in the corner, wondering if anybody will ever come and get me. I’ll never let that happen again.
I wince when there’s a crashing sound from the next room. It’s so loud that it cuts through the screaming voices of the heavy metal. I listen to this kind of music specifically to block any sounds, not just from the outside but also from the inside of my mind. It’s difficult to focus when my roommate and her boyfriend are arguing next door.
Taking a moment, I rub my hands up and down my face. My eyes are sore from staring so long at the screen. My clock tells me I’ve been at it for two hours this evening, and I did three hours earlier, before my cleaning shift.
Another crash. I wince, taking off my headphones.
Axel’s voice penetrates the paper-thin walls.“You say you love me, Lily. How thefuckam I supposed to believe you?”
Standing, I pace a circuit of the room.
I hate living here since Axel moved in. This apartment is supposed to just be for Lily and me. They arranged it through the orphanage program, but Lily doesn’t care about my opinion when her boyfriend is concerned.
She can do better than an asshole hopped up on beer and who knows what else. He’s an animal who throws a tantrum every few days.
Bang, bang, bang. Oh, great. Now he’s knocking on my door.
