Page 91 of Something Borrowed

But it’s just my father’s voice. He’s yelling and swearing at the security guards. I can’t make out too much of what he’s saying but I hear the word fire.

I walk closer to the door, a little nervous, but eager to find out what’s going. By flicking open the food slot and holding it there I can make out more of the conversation. My body is shaking. Adrenalin surging through me.

“It’s him. Who the fuck else would it be.” My father snarls.

Rufino.

“Sir, we are not sure. We arrived after the person had already escaped.”

I hear a thud, and someone huffing, gasping for air. My father hit him. “I said it was fucking him. Don’t fucking question me.”

“Yes, sir.” A muffled response.

What did he do?

Where is he?

There’s the rhythmic thud of pacing footsteps. My father is walking up and down. I can picture him. He does it often. He’ll be clenching his jaw and lifting his upper lip as he takes long strides across the floor. His fists will be tight balls at his sides.

“How the fuck are we going to stop him?” he screams a rhetorical question to no one at all. And no one answers him.

“What about the girl?” one of the security guards asks.

“What about her?” he snaps.

“Why don’t you just give her to him? Isn’t that what he wants?”

There is a deadly silence that follows the question and I half expect a gunshot to fire off. My father does not have a high tolerance for stupidity. Or retreat.

I hold my breath, but nothing happens. My heart is beating in my ears, it’s deafening.

“Open the door. I think the girlisthe answer.” My father commands.

I step away from it, backing up against the wall. What does he want to do with me? I doubt he will give me up. His ego would never allow that. He would rather see me dead that back with Rufino because giving me back would mean losing to a man he hates.

I wonder what Rufino has done to make him so angry.

I bite back a smile at the thought.

Heiskeeping his promise.

Heiscoming for me.

But he better hurry if he’s going to get here before something happens to me. The door flies open and bangs against the wall behind it.

Two men run in with guns pointed at me, followed by my father.

He looks pale.

He’s worried which is unusual for him. Nothing gets under his skin. He thinks he’s invincible.

Whatever is going on has him on edge.

I keep my lips pressed together, not saying a word, waiting for him to speak first. I need more information because I can decide what to do.

“Give her the phone.” He snarls.

One man throws a phone onto the bed near me.

---