Page 7

7

IMOGINE

“ O h! Excuse me. Sorry,” I exclaim after bumping into Molly, another server.

“Where’s your head at today, girl? You’ve been shuffling around half-awake.”

I sigh and close my eyes, trying to stem the tears at the thought of Marco. He’s the reason I’m so damn tired. He’s the reason my chest has a giant hole in it. He’s the reason I’m cranky one minute and close to crying the next.

I mean, what the hell? I woke up three days ago, alone in bed, with nothing more than a note. I’ve never felt so thoroughly used, and that’s saying something, considering my father is a gambling addict who has lied to me multiple times in his requests for money over the years.

“Uh-oh. I know that look,” Molly says, answering her own question. “Who’s the guy? Or girl, perhaps?”

“Guy,” I admit as I blow out a breath. “It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have let myself get so caught up in him. I’m not that girl, you know?”

“We’re all that girl sometimes, honey,” she replies with a sympathetic smile. “But you keep your head high. The best revenge is a life well-lived, as they say.”

I thank her right as the order for my table comes up from the kitchen. I deliver the double cheeseburger meal and Salisbury steak to my customers, then look around my section to see if I have any tables to clear or a new customer to wait on. Sure enough, a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard and a black fedora is sitting in the corner booth.

I can’t think about Marco or his stupid note right now. We need to be apart for now. I’ll contact you when it’s safe. I’m sorry.

That’s it. That’s all he had to say to me after he took my virginity, and he didn’t even have the balls to say it to my face. He’s sorry? Really? Not as sorry as I am for being such an idiot.

Rolling out my shoulders, I shove those thoughts way down deep and paste on a smile as I head over to the back booth. “Good afternoon,” I greet.

The man tips his head up, his tiny brown eyes narrowing the longer he looks at me. His stare rattles me to my bones, but I don’t know why. My stomach twists, and I instinctively step back, though I keep my smile wide as I ask for his order.

The strange man glances around the diner, his shifty eyes making me even more uncomfortable. Just when I’m about to tell him I’ll give him some more time with the menu, he snaps his attention back to me.

“Slice of pie and a Coke,” he grits out.

“What kind of pie? We have cherry, apple, wildberry cheesecake, and French silk.”

The man rolls his eyes as if that’s an obnoxious question. What is this guy’s problem?

“Apple is fine.”

“Great choice,” I reply in my cheeriest waitress voice. I still need the tip money, though looking back at Mr. Fedora, I’m not so sure he’s the type to leave a tip.

As I move about the diner doing my regular tasks of wrapping silverware, clearing tables, and keeping up with customers, I get the odd sensation that I’m being watched. I brush it off at first, thinking my paranoia is due to my exhaustion. After two hours, however, I need a break.

“I’m taking the garbage out back,” I tell Sal.

He nods and opens the back door leading to the alley behind the diner as I push two large garbage bins on wheels in front of me.

Once outside, I take a moment to enjoy the slight breeze on my cheeks. It’s hot, like most days in Vegas, but the fresh air is still nice. The silence of this secluded spot is even nicer. Leaning against the brick wall, I take a few deep breaths.

My stomach has been in knots since I woke up to Marco’s note. I’ve gone from furious to ashamed to heartbroken and back to furious over the last few days. Sometimes, I feel all of it at once, nearly crumbling under the weight of all the emotions.

Even my dad noticed something was off the last three days. I told him I got a second, temporary job, which is why I’ve been out of it. After he kept demanding answers, I finally broke down and told him I’d been doing “odd jobs” for the Caparellis in exchange for clearing his debt. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. It was all a job. I’m even more painfully aware of that in the aftermath of the last few days.

My father was outraged at first, but he quickly lost his self-righteous attitude when I reminded him that we wouldn’t be in this position if not for him. I hated seeing him sink onto the couch with the weight of his shame, but I sure as hell wasn’t about to apologize for doing what needed to be done. He nodded and sighed while I told him this should be his wake-up call.

I might be young and optimistic, but I think this will be a turning point. I hope.

I wipe a rogue tear from my cheek and close my eyes, trying to still the storm of thoughts in my mind. It’s no use. I can hardly go five seconds without my attention floating to Marco. I’m such an idiot for trusting him.

What did I expect? We never set guidelines for physical contact in our deal. I was just as into it as he was, and I certainly loved every minute of being with him… until he left me cold and alone in his bed. Was it all a game to him? Maybe Marco really did want to sleep with me, but in the harsh light of day, he realized what a mistake it was. Are we still going on fake dates? Is my father’s debt paid off? So many questions and zero answers.

A scratching sound echoes down the alley, making me snap my eyes open to search for the source. I don’t see anything, but goosebumps prickle my skin, and my heart races. I’m being paranoid. It’s nothing.

I hurry to empty the garbage into the large dumpster next to me so I can get back inside. My shift is over soon and then I’m crawling into bed and sleeping as long as possible. A good depression nap is just what the doctor ordered.

I grab the first garbage bin and heave it up and over the rim of the dumpster, standing on my tiptoes and angling the bin to empty it. I’m about to set it back down and reach for the second bin when a hand clamps down on my shoulder.

“Wha–”

Before I can even finish the word, I’m yanked backward. I trip and fall to the dirty ground littered with trash and questionable substances. The garbage bin follows, trapping me in place.

I push the damn thing off me and attempt to scramble to my feet, only to have a hand wrap around my neck, pinning me to the ground. I recognize the man from earlier—Mr. Fedora. He presses his knee against my stomach, digging into my flesh to subdue me.

His beady little eyes bore into mine as his lips curl into a sinister smirk. “Funny, I wouldn’t think the girlfriend of a mafia Captain would bother working a shitty service industry job. Does Marco not buy you everything you could want or need?”

I attempt to answer but cough and wheeze instead. Between my lungs being crushed by the weight of this man’s knee and his tight grip around my neck, I have to fight for each breath.

“I knew the whole thing was a sham from the beginning. Marco could have any woman. Why would he choose you ?”

I grit my teeth, determined not to let him see how cutting his comment is. It speaks directly to the heart of my insecurities. I’m a poor, fat, foolish girl who looks absolutely ridiculous standing next to someone like Marco. Of course, no one believed we were a couple. Even Marco, despite what he made me feel. None of it was real.

“I’ll get all the answers soon enough,” the man grunts seconds before I feel a sharp prick on the side of my neck.

He stands, and I try to follow him, but I can barely move my limbs. Soon, I become dizzy to the point of nauseousness, and blurry dots swim in my eyes. The last thing I remember is a police car pulling up at the end of the alley and two more men running toward me. They grab my arms and legs and lift me from the ground.

Then, my vision goes black.