“I even gave him some extra time to pay me back, since I’m such a nice guy, but he still couldn’t come up with the cash.”
The secrets are accumulating at a rate that I can’t even begin to believe.
My father went behind my back and borrowed money from someone dangerous. Why didn’t he just go to a bank like other people? He lied and told me everything was okay.
Looking at the big picture, it’s clear to me that absolutely nothing is okay. Nothing about this situation is okay. Nothing about a gun being pointed at my father’s head is okay!
“I was okay, Amara, everything was okay. Then there was a bad storm, and we lost almost all of the crops. I couldn’t afford to pay…” The earnestness in my father’s voice tells me he is trying to make me understand, and I do, but I still can’t rectify the lies and the danger we are now in.
“Shut up! The time for talking is over. I’m tired of hearing your excuses,” Lorenzo yells, his words echoing off the drab walls of our farmhouse. His voice is authoritative and commanding as if his words hold a power that everyone bows to. He looks as if he is used to being obeyed and doesn’t tolerate any insubordination. His eyes fall onto me, his gaze possessing me, holding me prisoner. Their darkness is overwhelming and makes me wonder if any good can be found in him.
Silence falls over us as I push the tears away and put my thinking cap on. There has to be a way out of all of this. There has to be a way to earn the money so we can pay these men back. The danger that surrounds these men tells me that it will be a mighty feat, but I’m not scared of a little hard work. My momma didn’t raise no quitter.
My eyes scan the old blue wallpaper that lines the living room walls. My mom had wanted it, she loved it so much that after we lost her to cancer, we never took it down or painted over it—no point in doing so since it wouldn’t make the hurt go away. Instead, we just kept it as a vivid reminder, something to hold her memory and keep her here with us even when she isn’t. God, I wish that wallpaper held some answers.
“There has to be a way to repay…” I don’t get to finish my sentence because he abruptly stands up and walks menacingly toward me. The man at my back releases my hair and pushes me forward, so my body is almost touching Lorenzo’s. I stumble and fall to my knees. Lorenzo holds his hand out, gesturing for me to stay below him.
“To repay me? Well, in fact, there is,” he says huskily, coming down on his haunches. He smells of high class and elegance; two things I’m not used to.
I’m filtering through my thoughts for an answer. My father has borrowed money from someone who is obviously very capable of killing people. Who has probably already killed many people.
“You could be a good girl and help your dad out. He did borrow money to pay for your school, after all.”
The way he says ‘good girl’ has my skin crawling. Goosebumps erupt across my skin. I don’t actually know how I could help, but whatever he is thinking, I will at least try.
“I will get a job, so we can pay you back in payments or…” I have to throw it out there. His full-on laughter cuts me off. He is an asshole, and I’m certain everyone in the room knows it. I glare at him as I watch a huge smile form on his face.
“Payments… Hmm… That’s a problem, dear Amara.” My name falls from his lips like a prayer, causing more goosebumps to pebble across my arms. I feel the need to ask him to keep saying it, but at the same time, the dark look he is giving me makes me want to piss myself.
I shake both of those feelings away. I won’t cower down on the floor any longer. I stand up and straighten my back.
“Problem? I don’t see what the problem is if you’re being paid back. Do you?”
I pretend to be calm and cool, determined to somehow find a way out of this mess. I can’t lose my father, especially after just losing my mother.
In terror, I watch as Lorenzo pulls a gun from his holster, I stumble backward, barely catching myself before I hit the floor again.
“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.