Page 77 of Something Borrowed

“Get the fuck out. Stop wasting my time.” He points his gun at me.

I look forward, but the rest of the car is empty.

My father isn’t in the front seat anymore. The car is parked underground somewhere. I recognize nothing.

Sliding across the leather seats I climb out of the car and stand next to the angry security guard. I don’t recognize him either. Another new recruit. None of the men last long with my father. This one won’t either.

He’ll fire him, or the guy will just disappear, of his own accord or my fathers. Anyone who disagrees with my father disappears.

“Move.” He huffs, jabbing the barrel of his rifle into my ribs.

“What the fuck is your problem? Calm down, asshole.” I snap back at him.

He pushes me towards a grey door. I open it and step through.

It leads into a dingy foyer with an elevator in the corner. The place smells of dust. Stuff and cold.

“The elevator.” He commands.

I push the button a few times in annoyance. Then stand back and wait for it to arrive.

The silence is awkward and tense. Where is my father? What is this place?

A soft chime beeps through the air and the metal doors slide open.

I step inside before he tells me to because I don’t want to be jabbed with a rifle again. My ribs are already bruised, when I poke them they are spongy and breathing is painful.

He knocks the butt of his gun against the number seventeen and the doors slide closed.

His breathing is so loud. It’s annoying.

Everything is annoying.

We ride slowly to the seventeen floor and the asshole pushes me out of the elevator into a hallway. “Move, dammit.” He snarls.

I lift my hands in a sign of surrender, hoping to ease his aggressiveness. All the while I’m taking everything in, counting how many paces from the elevator. I look to see an escape route.

A door at the end of the hallway is open. I walk towards it, assuming that’s our destination.

I don’t know what I expected to see when I walked through the doorway, but a nice, clean apartment was not it.

Its modern and bright with enormous windows spread across two walls of the corner apartment that let a lot of natural light in.

“What is this place? Who lives here?” I ask, stepping inside.

My father’s voice answers me, coming from the kitchen on the right.

“This is the safe house where you will be staying.”

My mouth drops open. How will Rufino find me here?

“Please, let me go home rather.”

“You don’t belong at home. I don’t want that kind of trouble in my house because you can’t be trusted.

“I’m your daughter, not some prisoner.” I shout.

A sharp slap stings across my face.

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