Page 1 of Medusa's Revenge

Prologue

Amelia "Medusa" Baxter

Fifteen years old

Leaning back in my folded card chair, and it squeaks as if it’s about to break under me I sigh. I stretch my arms above my head, moaning when my back cracks. After checking the time on my alarm clock next to my bed, I take note that the four hours I’ve been working without a break, so it's no wonder I’m so sore. As I shake out my limbs to regain my circulation, I scan my room realizing I need to clean it up. There are books all over the full size bed I share with my younger sister Michelle. The posters of my favorite bands, motivational cats which give me a giggle,stuffed animals, doll houses, and the wipe off board remind me of my assignment’s due dates giving the room some color.

I walk down the hall to the kitchen to grab a snack when I hear yelling outside my window. Before heading to check out the noise, I check to make sure my siblings are okay and asleep. Michelle had a nightmare earlier and wanted big brother to keep the monsters away so he’s letting her sleep in with him. We live in a building with sixty apartments, and we are on the fourth floor. My parents and two siblings live here in this three-bedroom apartment. I’m the oldest, fifteen; my brother Tanner Junior is thirteen, and my sister Michelle is seven.

Walking back to my room, I have a view of the sidewalk and road. The shouting gets louder.

“Did you think you could steal from me and I wouldn't notice it? Do I look that stupid to you?” The voice sounds familiar, but I can't hear it well. The closer I get, the more I listen to it.

“Please, it wasn't me. I know not to steal from the man who feeds my kids.” My Dad's voice shakes. I open the curtain slightly to see what is going on. The scene before makes me bite down on my fist. I'm watching this heavyset man stand over my Dad while he is on his knees crying. There are two men. One has my Dad's arms behind his back, while the other man has a gun to the back of my Dad's neck.

“I hear differently. Your wife is bragging about all the money you're bringing in, saying she can afford some bag. What was it? Vito, something.”

“My wife is lying. You can check the house or my checking account. I'm not a rich man. I'm just an old man trying to keep food on my kids’ plates and a roof over their heads. If my wife has money, than she's either cheating on me or stealing it. She's not getting it from me.” My dad's pleas are ignored. The fat man stands and wipes his forehead with a handkerchief he pulled from his breast pocket.

“Either way, the evidence points to you.” He sighed, looking up at the full moon. I gasp when I realize who it is. “Finish him. Make it hurt.” Tommy DeMarco walks away while the two guys begin beating on my dad. They are calling him all these names with each hit. I head toward the front and struggle with the locks on the door as my hands shake. I’m running down four flights of stairs to get to him. As soon as I put my hand on the black metal bar to push on it to find my dad, the loud sound of the gun goes off. I jerk away from the door. This neighborhood is shitty, and constantly having guns going off is nothing new. I know the cops won’t get called because people don’t like them investigating the issues here. Taking a big breath, I race out the main door to the building and see my dad’s body lying there.

“Daddy!” I scream. I don't know when I started crying because out of nowhere, I tasted something salty on my lips. I wipe my cheeks as I kneel by his body.

“Melly, what are you doing out here? Go back inside.” My dad’s wheezing voice gets out as he moans. I grab his hand. “I don’t want you to remember your old man like this.”

“ No. I’m not leaving you, Daddy. I can call an ambulance, and we can make you all better. I promise.” I’m full-on sobbing now and clutching his hand in mine. I look around his body for the gunshot, but there is so much blood. “I know for gunshots and stabbings, I need to put pressure on the wound. Where were you shot? There’s so much blood.” My voice is hoarse from the sobbing.

“I’m not going to make it. Please don’t waste your tears on me.” My dad’s eyes stare into mine, and I don’t blink because I don’t want to miss a single second with my dad. These are his last moments. “My firstborn. My daughter taught me about unconditional love. One of three reasons my heart has been beating for the last fifteen years. When your sister turns eighteen, I want you to get out of here and make something ofyourself. Don’t be like me and work for other men. Be the boss.” His eyes flutter open and close as he talks like he’s trying to slow his breathing to speak to me.

“I love you, Daddy,” I whisper.

“I love you too, Melly. Take care of your brother and sister.” My dad’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and he takes his last breath. I lay there crying over his lifeless body.

“Amelia?” I hear the voice of the man who works the convenience store on the corner. “What do you need from me?” He places a hand on my shoulder.

“I don’t know, but when I get bigger and stronger, Tommy DeMarco is a dead man walking,” I vow. Arthur, or Smitty, to his friends and family, calls about a body in front of the building. He hangs up the phone and crouches before me to be at eye level.

“Don’t tell anyone about who you saw. You heard a man yell who sounded like your dad, so you came to check. You found him like this. Don’t mention Tommy’s name to anyone but me. I will train you—only if you promise to finish school and keep your head straight. We will get him when the time is right. Nod if you understand?” I nod as I see flashing lights from the ambulance and cop cars. Everyone in the building is nosey as fuck, so they are coming to check things out. Smitty and I keep our stories straight; we have never told a soul the truth.

The following week is a blur of flowers, people offering their condolences, and bringing us. They want the gossip. I sit in my dad’s recliner, staring out the window. Smitty spent hours cleaning up the blood once the cops took my dad’s body away. The cops keep coming to talk to me, but my story never changes. Smitty has come to speak to me and check in on me, and I’m grateful for it, but I need to focus on my siblings. My mother smiles a lot when she doesn’t think anyone is watching her. I heard my dad say she must be stealing from the DeMarco family. When he showed up here a couple of days ago, offering to payfor the funeral, my mom jumped at the chance. He even paid the rent for the year. I saw the way he touched her ass. They had to have set this up. I write this all down in a notebook I give to Smitty. He’s helping me stay sane. Our apartment feels empty without Dad’s booming laughter, and we’re all numb now. He was the glue that held us together. I don’t know what we are going to do without him.

“Amelia, right?” Tommy comes to sit on the couch next to me. I move my head to look at me. I keep my face blank. “The gossip girls tell me you were with your dad. Did he say anything to you?”

“No. My dad was already gone when I got out there. I’ve told everyone this, including the cops. I just held his hand while someone called nine one one.” I move back to looking outside the window.

“Well, I am here if you ever need anything.” He stands to leave. “Amelia, I’m going to help your mom through this.” I shrug my shoulders in response.

“Your days will be numbered, Tommy. You’ll never see me coming,” I say to myself as I watch Tommy DeMarco get into his Lincoln and drive away. Mom is humming some song, and I roll my eyes. She is not mourning the husband she was with for twenty-three years. Did she even love him? I put my mother on my list for revenge too. She’ll get hers one day.

Chapter One

Medusa

Fifteen years later

Thirty Years Old

The rumble of the bike makes my legs vibrate, and its roar makes my soul happy. No matter what happens, whether good or bad, the bike seems to heal everything. I have nowhere to be until ten when I meet with my brother and sister for our bimonthly brunch. I rev the bike and hit the throttle to open myself up more, which makes me smile. I slow down when I begin to enter the city limits. I try to be on my best behavior andnot bring my motorcycle club on the cop's radar. I pull into the gas station to top off.

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