I watch her as she rises from the table and walks back to her room, quietly shutting the door. I have a sneaking suspicion that it's more than just hormones. The remainder of the afternoon is spent with me distracting myself with weeding and letting brisk air keep me awake. Once the sun is at its highest, I make my way back into the house. I hear a loud engine from a mile out.
Oh, no. Not today. Please, not today.
I look like an idiot as I watch a puff of exhaust form down the dirt path road. A huge escalade speeds down the road. There’s no time to think. I bolt inside.
“Rosa! This is not a drill!” I roar. I hear her rustling in the room. After my run-in with my brother, I decided we had to take things a bit further. I burst into the room and see that Rosa has already put the tape and rope around her wrists. I tighten the rope then take her down the basement.
“Just for a little bit, okay?” I remind her.
Rosa’s eyes are glasslike. I can’t imagine how terrified she is.
I race back upstairs and gather my thoughts before opening the door. The escalade pulls into the driveway and parks. I wave as my dad and another person wearing a baseball cap get out of the truck. Another victim?
My dad is an older version of Larry — bulky and tall with dark eyes. When he smiles, it reaches his eyes, but only if he’s actually happy. The last time he smiled at me, there was a dark cloud over him and it was the most terrifying thing I’d ever witnessed. I’ve only seen that look a few times; my sister’s funeral, Larry going to prison, and my mom admitting she’d had an affair. Now that time has passed, and all the sins of our family have marinated, I see it lifted from his shoulders.
“Well, there he is. I wondered if you were still alive,” he teased. I walk down the front steps and give him a tight hug.
“Pops.”
He pats me on the back. “You look good.”
I grin, fighting the urge to panic as I think about Rosa in the basement. “I feel good.” I look past him as the person with the baseball cap approaches us. It takes a few moments for me to register who he is until he takes the cap off.
“Nick?” I croak. Nick, or Nicholas Gomez, is the only friend I had growing up. He left for the army when we were freshly eighteen and I was positive I’d never see him again. Seeing him with my dad feels both nostalgic and strange. Nick never liked my dad.
“Do I not get a welcome hug?” he asks. I give him a huge hug. If I weren’t standing in front of my dad, I may have even shed a tear.
“I don’t understand. You’re back in the States? I thought you were staying in Germany for good?” I ask. Nick is a man of few words. He was the one who had my back in high school when I was getting in a mess to save the family’s reputation. When he left, he took a lot of my sense of comfort with him.
“I missed the States,” Nick says with a shrug.
“Also, could use some relief from his shit,” my dad chimes in. Nick stares at the ground, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“Old habits die hard. Besides, after I heard about Larry, I knew you all could use the extra help,” Nick explains. There’s a weird glint in his eyes as he looks past me. “Is she in there?”
I stiffen. “I wasn’t given any instructions—”
“She’s in there, right?” Nick presses.
My dad chuckles. “I need Nick’s eyes on you if this thing is gonna go smoothly.”
A lump forms in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“The girl is a lesson,” Nick answers. “We need to move strategically.”
“We?” I ask with a scowl. I glare at my dad. “What happened to staying low? Any noticeable deaths will put us back on the radar.”
“Let’s see her,” Nick cuts in. My heart rate goes up.
“What’s the rush?” I ask. Nick steps onto the front steps. My dad follows but pauses as his phone blares from his pocket.
He stares at the phone and groans. “It’s Larry’s friend.”
“What?” I yell. I know Larry has a crew in prison watching out for him but I don’t trust them.
“The Irish have been very helpful,” Nick says. My dad answers the phone and walks back towards the truck. Nick looks me up and down. I see new scars on the side of his face and down his arms. He looks a lot rougher.
“What the hell happened to you out there? You never used to be into this stuff,” I say. Nick ignores me and walks into the house. I follow closely behind him. He takes in the house then pauses at the half-open door of Rosa’s room. He eases it open more with the tip of his boot.