I texted my manager that I had to leave because of an emergency. I couldn’t bear to tell him the truth. What was I supposed to say? That a man with a gun threatened us and gave me a stack of cash to leave? He wouldn’t believe a word.
My manager is used to fucked-up customers, but this story would take the cake. No one would pay a waitress to leave. Joe would probably think I didn’t want to work … and I’d get fired.
I’d rather stay quiet and hope it doesn’t happen again.
I swallow away the nerves as I watch some guys pass me by, and I quickly go inside the building I call home. With sweat drops rolling down my back, I step into the elevator and blow out a breath when the doors close.
Momentary safety from a turbulent world.
Just like the books I like to bury myself in.
It’s such a shame they don’t have more work for me at the library so I could spend all my time there instead of a mere few hours. But I guess that comes with doing what you love. You have to make sacrifices. And my sacrifice is that I have to work two jobs. One being my dream job while the other is a way to pay the bills.
When the elevator dings, I exit onto my floor and saunter to my apartment. I’m really looking forward to ditching these clothes and hopping into the shower. Just the thought brings a moderate smile to my face as I stick the keys into the lock and open my apartment door.
As I step inside, I expect the television to blast me away, but it’s not turned on. Chris doesn’t appear to be home even though it’s late at night. Where could he be?
Going into the bedroom, I quickly rid myself of this outfit sticking to my skin and throw it in a corner. It’s only then that I notice I forgot to close the curtains. I squeal and rush to the windows, covering my boobs. But as I briefly peer outside, my stomach drops, and I completely forget my own nudity.
Chris is right there in front of the building … kissing another woman.
I swallow as tears form in my eyes. I can’t stop staring at the way he wraps his arms around her and gazes at her with passion in his eyes. How heavy the pang of jealousy hits me … even harder than the soul-crushing pain of losing your love to another.
The kiss he shares with her is passionate, greedy. A kiss I never dared to dream of.
The way his hands palm her back so sweetly yet so warmly, as though he wishes for nothing more than to pull her closer, makes me clutch the curtains and sigh.
This is the man I wanted but could never have.
The man he promised to be for me.
Given to another.
A scowl forms on my face, and I slam open the wardrobe and tear out the hottest dress I can find, putting it on along with sky-high heels. Then I grab the reddest lipstick from my makeup drawer and purse my lips in front of the mirror, rolling the lipstick over my own salty, teared-up lips. And after glancing at the broken woman in the mirror one final time, I throw my keys, phone, and wallet in my purse and march out the door, slamming it shut behind me.
Tears stream down my face, but he won’t find me here.
Eli
I wait in my car and stare at the couple making out on the pavement. I’m surprised they didn’t even make it to the apartment. Most people would be apprehensive to do these things in broad daylight, but not him, it seems.
I clamp a cigar between my teeth and light it, taking a big whiff before rolling down my window to take a closer look. The two just can’t seem to get enough of each other, and the obscenity of their act almost makes me want to go over there and tear them apart.
Someone should teach that guy a lesson. And I think I will … after I’m done with her.
I blow out some of the smoke and stare at them until he finally notices me.
I cock my head at the dude as he pulls his tongue out of the woman’s mouth and proceeds to stare me down in a threatening manner. But no man can easily intimidate me, especially not the likes of a disgusting pig like him.
The guy’s grip on her waist softens, and he mouths something at her. She turns her head to me. The look in her eyes doesn’t change one bit. I wink. She nods.
“Go,” I tell the driver, and I throw the cigar onto the street.
As I roll up the window, the two stare me down until the car has long driven away. But it doesn’t matter how far I drive …
Everyone will eventually catch up with their sins.
Chapter 3
Amelia
Sixteen years ago
I can only hold one of my grandmother’s hands because my other is locked tightly in a sling. The tears flow freely down my cheeks as I look at the casket being rolled out onto the streets. Six men shove it into a black car while we watch from a distance.
Everyone thought I’d be afraid of cars after what happened, but I’m not. It’s not the car’s fault that the road was too narrow at the bend and that we fell off a deep cliff.
I swallow hard.
There isn’t much family left to mourn, just me and my grandpa and grandma. That’s it.
Will my tears be enough?
If I cried hard enough, would Mommy hear it?
Would she come back?
Mommy said she and Daddy would always come back to me when they left … but she lied.
I sniff as Grandma squeezes my hand a little tighter. The second casket is rolled out of the funeral home, and my grandpa walks out too, burying a tissue deep into his pocket. Mommy once said grandparents don’t ever cry because they have already cried all the tears they had, but I guess she was wrong.
Just like she was wrong when she told me she would always be here for me.
That she’d cheer me on every time I got a good grade and watch me grow old.
My heart aches as the six men load up the second casket too, and the doors are closed, the harsh sound like a slap to my face. The pain in my arm doesn’t even come close to the pain in my heart.
And as the driver starts the car, and my grandparents whisk me away into theirs, I can’t help but stare at the one my mommy and daddy are in right now, wondering why they’re not here … and I am.
Amelia
Present
I grab a cab to Club M, the nearest club I frequent. Tonight, I can really use a pick-me-up under a heavy bass to drown out the pain with noise and pretend everything is okay. I smile at the bouncer out front, who nods at me when I show him my ID, and then I go inside.
I look around at seats in the corners and the two staircases leading to the second floor that oversees the rest of the dance floor. Maybe I’ll hang out there as I’m not in the mood for dancing, and the usual popular spot seems empty tonight.
Heading to the bar, I order a drink, then make my way upstairs. It’s still busy with a bustling crowd dancing in the corner, and the couch in the back is obviously taken by a bunch of rich dudes and their posse of money-hungry girls.
I pay them no attention as I lean over the banister and wistfully stare out at the scene below, at the people dancing their night away, blissfully unaware of the emotional gash inside my heart bleeding out onto the dance floor below.
“Wishing the night away?”
I prop myself up on my elbow and look up at a man I never saw approaching from the side. A man I instantly recognize. Green eyes, smoldering look, slick dark hair, chiseled jaw. It’s him.
My jaw drops, and my veins flood with adrenaline as my eyes search his. How did he get inside? Did he come here for me?