Page 81 of Memphis

Antonia

“Come on, Antonia. You can’t just sit here! Think!”

I wanted to believe that Wes or my father would come crashing through that door and would rescue me, but neither of them came. I was alone, and it was up to me, and only me, to get out of there. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked around, making sure I hadn’t missed anything.

I don’t know why I bothered.

There wasn’t much to it—just a bed, a nightstand, a rug, a dresser, and a small closet. There were no windows, and the heavy wooden door was locked from the outside.

I knew there were at least three guards on site. I’d not only seen them, but I heard them every time they walked by the room—which had been every hour on the hour. And the hours were starting to add up. I couldn’t see outside, but I knew it had to be getting dark out and I was growing irritated with myself taking so long to find a way out.

I was about to just give it all up when I spotted my reflection in the dresser’s mirror. At first, I just dismissed it and turned away, and then, I had a thought. I grabbed the lamp from the bedside table and carried it over to the dresser. While I was hesitant to make too much noise and attract attention to myself,I gripped the base tighter, then butted it up against the lower corner of the mirror.

I’d hit it pretty hard, but the glass didn’t break.

So, I hit it again, and once again, nothing.

"Come on," I whispered, more to myself than anything else. “You can do this.”

Frustrated, I hit it even harder, and this time, the mirror shattered, and pieces of glass scattered onto the rug. Being careful not to cut myself, I picked up one of the longer shards and quickly examined its edge. I ran the pad of my thumb across the sharpest point and was disappointed to find that it wasn’t quite sharp enough. Using the base of the lamp, I started hammering away at one of the larger pieces, shaping it against the hardwood floor until I got something resembling a blade.

Eventually, I managed to forge a decent edge. I ripped the hem of my shirt and wrapped it around the base, hoping it would protect my hand from being cut when I held it. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. I slipped it into my back pocket, then rushed to the closet and grabbed one of the old dry-cleaning wire hangers. I quickly unwound it and fashioned it into a straight point. I carried it over to the door and placed my ear against the smooth wood, listening for any signs of the guards.

There was nothing.

Only silence.

So, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, then slipped the hanger into the lock. It took a few tries, but eventually, I felt the lock give way. I felt a surge of hope as I opened the door just a little and peeked out, checking to see if the coast was clear. I kicked off my shoes, and my heart raced as I stepped into the hallway.

With my makeshift blade in hand, I slipped out and darted into one of the other rooms down the hall. It was just another bedroom—much like the one where I’d been held captive, onlythis room was much bigger with all the amenities. I was about to go over and look out the window when I heard Vittorio’s voice coming from the next room.

I only heard his voice, so I knew he was talking on the phone when he said, “I don’t care if he pays the money or not. I’ve got the girl, and she’s a looker. I can sell her for top dollar.”

Like a moth drawn to a flame, I stepped back into the hall. My bare feet barely made a sound on the cold tiles as I made my way over to his office doorway. I took a quick glance inside and found him sitting in a chair by the fireplace. His back was to me, but I could see the phone was up to his ear. “The last thing I need is for him to go and run his mouth. I’ll let him sweat a bit, then later tonight, I’ll have one of the boys go over and take care of him.”

My blood ran cold when he chuckled.

This psycho thought this whole thing was funny, but I didn’t find it humorous at all. In fact, it all sickened me. Every bit of it. I couldn’t fathom the thought of being sold to God knows who and being forced to do God knows what, but even worse than that, I couldn’t stomach the thought of this lunatic killing my father. There was no way I could let that happen.

So, I did the unthinkable.

I withdrew the blade from my back pocket and tiptoed over to the back of the chair. I stood there, waiting for an opportunity as I listened to him snicker, “Yeah, I bet she’d be into all kinds of crazy shit, and even if she wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You should come check her out. If you like her, I’ll cut you a deal.”

He tilted his head back and laughed once again. His eyes were closed, and he was completely unaware of the fact that I was standing right behind him. I couldn’t think about what I was about to do. I just had to do it, otherwise I would never have the strength. I clenched my jaw then jabbed the sharp glass into thecenter of his throat and quickly jerked it to the left, severing his voice box and his carotid at the same time.

Vittorio stood and flailed around for several moments before he got his footing. He tried to call out for help, but only a small rush of air came from his mouth.

Knowing there was little he could do, I grabbed the phone from his hand, ended the call, and dropped it into his glass of brandy. He clutched his throat with his hands, but it did little to stop the blood from streaming down his neck and chest.

Maybe I was in shock or just plain denial, but I felt nothing when I told him, “You have about ninety seconds before you bleed out.”

He reached out and grabbed hold of my shirt, pulling me over to him. It startled me, but I could see the color was already draining from his face. He was growing weaker by the second, and it wouldn’t be long before he was gone. “Sixty more seconds. Maybe less.”

I jerked free from his hold, and my pulse quickened with a mix of fear and exhilaration as I backed out of the room. “Might wanna start saying your prayers 'cause you’re gonna need ‘em.”

Without saying anything more, I started running down the hall. I just needed to make it to the front door, and then, I’d make a run for it. I’d just reached the front foyer when I heard one of the guards talking at the other end of the hall.

I didn’t stop.

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