Page 27 of Heartless

“I might have something in my purse. You can take that. Just let me go,” I plead.

The man reaches behind him and pulls a gun out of the back of his pants.

“Take me to your money, now!”

I move towards the door, and he snatches my arm behind me. Blinding pain shoots through my shoulder, and I scream, “Oww!”

“Don’t try anything funny either because I don’t mind putting a bullet in your brain.”

“Ooh...ookay,” I struggle to say as I hobble down the hall and to my office. I feel the cold metal of the gun pressing against my upper back where the leotard leaves my skin exposed.

We make it to my office, and I wrack my brain for what could be used as a weapon. My eyes spot a stack of towels, some old pointe shoes, a ribbon, a hairbrush, a couple of batons, and picture frames on various surfaces of my family and friends.

Nothing. Not even the damn baton because he’s blocking it.

I go to my drawer and reach for the handle of the drawer holding my purse.

“Easy there. Let me see what’s inside,” he growls, shoving me down into my chair as he reaches for the drawer.

He pulls my purse from inside and, holding the gun with one hand, unzips my purse with the other.

I watch as he empties it upside down onto my desk. Sorrow feels my heart at the contents of my purse. It’s not the mints, gum, hair tie, cosmetics bag, or wallet that saddens me.

It’s the unopened pregnancy test that I carry, always choosing to keep one close at hand, and the tampons that I’m currently using that hurt me so deeply.

“Fucking twenty-two dollars! That’s all you’ve got in here, bitch!”

“I’m sorry. I don’t carry cash. Just those cards,” I say as he rips each one out of the plastic and tosses them to the floor.

“What about this?” he asks, holding my debit card in the air.

“You could take that but I don’t know what good it’s going to do you here.”

That thought seems to take root, and then his eyes flicker for a moment before a sneer takes over his face. Waving the gun, he says, “I can get someone down here to use it for me!”

“Do whatever you need to. Just please let me go.”

“You’re not going anywhere, bitch, til I get some money!” he says, grabbing me by the neck and squeezing tightly.

My chair tilts back slightly, and as if it just occurred to him that if he doesn’t ease up, we’ll both go tumbling backward, he releases me. The chair rocks slightly, but he’s no longer paying me any attention.

He’s pulled a phone from somewhere, and he’s on it talking to someone.

“Yeah! Exactly where I said I was going.”

He sniffs and rubs the back of his nose.

“Bitch ain’t got no money on her!”

For the first time, I realize that not only have I been targeted, but this guy is high which makes him even more dangerous. I have no idea what he’s capable of doing if he doesn’t get what he wants.

“I need you to come down here. She’s got a debit card.”

He listens some more and sniffs again while pacing back and forth, but his eyes never leave me.

“Fuck that! I need my shit now! Get down here!”

The man ends the call, and then glares at me as if I’m to blame for the ordeal.

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