Page 122 of Easy Out

“I’ve seen you around little girl. Making friends with everyone.” His steps are heavy as he makes his way to the fridge. Miguel jerks open the fridge door. I’m not surprised to see it full of beer, a giant box of wine, and completely void of anything with nutritional value. There is a half-gallon of milk that is probably weeks past its sell by date.

He reaches for a can of beer then slams the fridge closed. The crisp sound of a can opening is like a gun being fired except much scarier. At least a bullet is predictable.

Miguel guzzles the entire can like he’s in Cancun for spring break. Then fetches another beer from the fridge. “You don’t belong here. You think you can come to my home and take over my family? Take my boys from me?”

“I’m not doing that. I wanted to take them somewhere fun.” Immediately, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. He drains his beer and throws it into the sink. Glass shatters among the dirty dishes.

“Fun? Manny, do you not have fun at home?” His question is innocent enough, but it’s laced with poison. It’s a trap set up for Manny to fail no matter how he answers.

I block Manny the best I can and gently squeeze his hand, begging him to stay quiet when he opens his mouth to answer.

Miguel lunges for me again. I don’t know if he intended to hit me or simply separate me from Manny. I’ll never know because Carlos charges at him. Is that a? Oh God!

“Los, stop!” I scream. Miguel and Carlos, both ignore me as they grapple for the knife Carlos pulled out of a drawer.

What is he thinking?

Miguel isn’t fit by most standards, but he is a big guy. He is tall and stocky. He has at least fifty pounds on Carlos.

Carlos kicks and claws at his dad while still clutching the knife. For a moment I think Carlos might win this dog fight, but then Miguel upper cuts him knocking him off balance and on to the floor.

“You crazy bastard!” Linda screams, suddenly finding a voice. She attacks him with tiny fists on his back. He swats her away like an annoying little fly and turns his attention back to the three of us.

This can’t continue. It’s completely out of hand. I’m about to try to reason with this maniac when there is a knock at the door.

“Not a word,” Miguel spits, pointing a finger in my face.

No one makes a move to greet the visitor. I guess holding people hostage isn’t a good look even with your neighbors.

The knocking starts again. More aggressive than before.

“Get it,” Miguel orders Linda.

She cracks open the door. I can’t see who it is, but I hear his voice. The strong façade I’ve been clinging to burns to ash.

He’s here. He came for me. He isn’t leaving me behind.

Miguel yanks on my arm and pulls me away from Manny. He’s completely unstable. I don’t trust him not to stab me or anyone else who tries to remove me from his clutches.

Hart’s eyes beg me to remain calm and not do anything rash. It’s hard for me not to fight. I’ve been doing it my whole life. I don’t know how to relinquish the job of protecting me to someone else.

Morelli, Hart, and Enzo edge closer to the four of us in the kitchen like they are approaching a crazed gorilla. Slow, sure steps and placating words don’t seem to have the desired effect on Miguel. It would take a tranquilizer to bring him down.

He switches his hold from my arm to the back of my neck. Carlos spits in his father’s face. That’s all it takes for Miguel to attempt to stab his own son.

Before he can draw blood, Enzo and Hart are there. Each of them wrestles one of his arms pulling him into the living room. Hart works his fingers until Miguel drops the knife. Then he kicks it across the room out of reach.

The boys are still struggling to hold him captive when Morelli comes at him like an MMA fighter. He slugs him a few times in his face until Miguel’s body goes limp and falls to the ground.

He’s knocked out just in time for sirens to sound in the distance. I bring Manny and Carlos into a group hug chanting over and over how everything will be okay. You’re safe now.

When I let them out of my embrace, the first person I see is Morelli, my dad, not Hart as I expected. I don’t know what comes over me, but I take off running and jump into his arms.

“Dad,” I breathe as I cling to him. His body tenses for a moment then his arms lock around me. A hand tenderly brushes the top of my head and down my ponytail.

“Piccola.” Tiny one. He told me he started calling me that after he held me the first time. Apparently, I was half the size of Enzo at birth. “Are you okay?” I nod yes and more tears stream down my cheeks. He puts me down and looks me over, noting the bruises on my arms. “I will kill him.”

“Get in line,” Hart says over my dad’s shoulder. “Cariño.“ His sweet plea has my body wracked with sobs. “Shhh… cariño. Ahora estás a salvo. Todo ha terminado.”

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