Page 5 of Cruel Promise

My father’s face contorts into an ugly sneer. It’s a look I’ve seen hundreds of times, and it never fails to send a shiver down my spine.

He whips my mom across the face with his gun, knocking her to the ground.

“Mom!” I bend down next to her, but my father grabs me. “Let me go!”

He places the gun to my head, forcing me to go still. “You were always too pretty for your own good. I hated having a pretty daughter. I saw the way men looked at you.”

I never saw those looks because he never let me be around men at all. It’s another delusion my father made up to make me feel terrible about myself.

“But right now, I’m glad I have a beautiful daughter.” He runs the gun up and down my face. “Because you’re going to earn me a pretty penny.”

I’m not sure exactly what he means by that, but I can guess enough to know I need to be terrified. And I am terrified.

“Let her go,” Mom warns, standing back up. “You don’t need Ava. Take me instead.”

“Why would I want you? You’re old, woman. No man would want to buy you.”

Buy?

“Just let her go,” she reiterates. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

“Mom, don’t.” I can see the desperation in her eyes. I can’t lose her.

“I’m the reason we left,” she says. “Punish me. Leave Ava alone.”

“You know, I would love to punish you. But I need money more. And Ava will fetch me a good price. You see, I bargained. There’s a man who wants a wife, and he’s offering a lot of money for Ava. So, I’m going to give her to him.”

“What man?” I ask.

He shrugs. The fact he can act so nonchalant hurts even more. “Some Mafia man. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“You sold our daughter to the Mafia? You fucking bastard.” She lunges at him, raking her hands down his face. He shoves her away and points his gun at her.

Then he fires.

The bullet lands in her stomach.

“No!” I scream, wrenching away from my father, but he pulls me tighter against him.

Mom staggers back and drops to the ground.

“Let’s go,” he growls, dragging me out of the apartment.

“No! Mom!” I continue to scream down the hallway, but no one leaves their apartments to come check. I’m invisible. I’m alone.

“Stop,” Father hisses and whips his gun against my face. The shock and pain of it makes me stumble back. He uses that to his advantage and shoves me forward. My feet just barely catch up as we leave the apartment building.

I don’t know whether I’m crying or bleeding as he forces me into a car. I think a little bit of both.

All I can think about as we drive away is that my mom is dead.

She’s dead.

I slump against the car door, not putting up a fight. What’s the point? My father will never let me go. And now some Mafia man wants me. I don’t know anything about the Mafia except from what I’ve seen of movies, and it’s obvious in those films that once the Mafia has their hooks in you, they’ll never let you go.

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