Page 7 of Rescued By the Mafia

Elise: Hey, sorry, I’m hanging here another day or two. I swear I’ll be back by Monday. Enjoy having the place to yourself!

Iris had managed to get her flighty roommate to send a selfie before Elise had gone radio silent again, but the result was the same. She had the apartment all to herself at exactly the time when she wanted it the least. Her discomfort was only exacerbated by the aggravation of having to spend her limited funds on Uber fees just to get where she needed to go. Like the garage where her car had been towed. She tried consoling herself with the fact that it was a miracle they’d only taken a single day to fit her into their schedule. A day she’d spent mostly at her other job, recounting the odd events of the previous evening to her boss-turned-close-friend, Megan.

Megan had a lot of feelings about the things Iris had shared. Most notably, Megan was very insistent that Iris call the police and file a report. She thought it was important and didn’t understand that Iris wasn’t willing. All of which had plummeted Iris into a down mood.

Iris knew Megan meant well. She understood Megan had never had the kinds of experiences she had. But she’d told Megan a little about her story during the short while Megan had allowed Iris to live on her couch. So Iris couldn’t help feel like her friend should have recognized that reaching out to law enforcement was not a thing she could do. Not yet, anyway. Surely not for a while.

Iris gave herself a shake as she climbed from the Uber, yet another fee paid, and made her way into the half-outdoor garage. She couldn’t see her dirty bronzish Corolla yet, but from the angle where she’d been dropped off, she estimated she could only see about half the actual lot. Arguably, it even made sense that client vehicles would be parked out of sight from the street. At least to her.

So Iris took herself in the direction of the reception desk and plastered on a smile for the portly, balding man who turned to greet her.

He looked her up and down from the other side of the chest-high countertop and wiped his hands on his jeans. “What can I do for ya?”

Both hands clenching tight to the straps of her purse, Iris said, “I’m here to pick up my car. I got a call a couple of hours ago that it was ready.”

The man made a face and reached for a grease-smudged binder. “Don’t think we got any cars ready to go,” he said as he flipped it open. “You sure you’re in the right place, lady?”

Iris frowned. “Yes. I’m very sure. This is the only garage I have the address for in all of Newark and I confirmed it with my Uber driver.” She set her purse on the counter and pulled it open, fumbling through the assortment of unnecessary things that always piled up before her fingers closed around the slip of paper she wanted. “Here,” she said, extracting the receipt. “Here’s the receipt from the tow truck that brought it in the night before last.”

The man took it and looked it over, his brow furrowing. He shook his head, flipped a couple pages in the binder, and dragged a meaty finger nearly all the way down the page. When he came to a stop next to a crossed-off item, Iris felt her heart sink. He held the receipt out for her, still scowling. “Look, lady, I don’t know what you’re tryin’ to pull, but that car ain’t here.”

She snatched the receipt from him and shoved it into her purse, her throat constricting as her anxiety flared. “It is. It has to be. This is where they said they’d take it!” Had she been tricked? Had they lied to her?

He shook his head. “No, what I’m sayin’ is, someone already signed it out.”

Her panicking thoughts came to a screeching halt. “What?”

He tapped the crossed-off item beneath his finger as if it held all the answers. “About half an hour ago,” he said. “A guy I ain’t seen before came up, signed for it, showed us a release with your signature, an’ drove off in the car.”

Her mouth went dry and the world spun around her. “Th-this man … what did he look like?” She didn’t know why she was asking. It wasn’t like anyone else hated her so intensely.

“Ah, he was maybe six-foot, a year or two older than you I’d guess.” The man pointed to his face. “Had a crooked nose, like he took a mean swing in a bar fight some years ago or somethin’.”

Iris stumbled away from the counter until her back hit the opposite wall, barely aware of her short, labored breaths. No. He couldn’t be there. He couldn’t be stalking her in Newark, New Jersey. She’d worked so hard to get away from him. There were arguably three states between them, why—how—had he followed her so far?

He’ll never stop.

“Hey, lady, you okay?” A figure moved in front of her, blocking the angry glow of the room’s main light source.

Iris jerked away when a hand brushed her arm. “Don’t!”

“Whoa, sorry!” She finally saw him a bit more clearly as he took a step back, hands raised in a wordless proclamation of innocence. “Looked like you were gonna faint or somethin’, I just wanted to see if I could help.”

Iris held tighter to her purse. “I—I need to go.” There was no need to be there if her car was lost … stolen by the very man she’d run away from.

She made it as far as the parking lot outside the small office space, parallel with the opening of the garage, before she realized her immediate problem. It wasn’t like her Uber had waited. Iris reached into her purse again, aiming for her phone, and a rectangular card came up simultaneously. Pinched between her thumb and the screen.

“If you get to a point where you do need help, give me a call.”

It was the beginning of rush hour. A fact which meant the next Uber she called would take longer than usual to get to her, and longer than necessary to get her back to the empty and vulnerable apartment. Longer time on the road meant more money spent. But she didn’t know the man who’d given her the card still in her hand. Not really.

Not more than to know that he’d taken it upon himself to offer her comfort and support the very moment he’d seen her struggling.

Iris opened her phone and typed in the number he’d written across the back. The worst that happened was he didn’t come, right? She stared at the number for another second before hitting the button to start the call and bringing the phone to her ear. She at least needed to get back to the apartment before it got dark.

If only so that she could sit in the darkness, alone, waiting for the nightmare to start again.

The line connected almost as soon as the terrifying image took shape in her mind. “Go ahead.”

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