Page 25 of Neverland

“Mr. Salvatore,” Hopkins greeted.

Dominic’s father.

There was no response, but I watched as he stood next to Romeo and proceeded to indecently leer at my body the same way he had in Principal Rosser’s office. The same way his son did every time he saw me.

“Eight dollars or return the items,” Mr. Hopkins barked impatiently.

“Asshole,” Romeo muttered, snatching the milk and bread. He gestured for me to follow and I abided, feeling awkward and intimidated by Dominic’s father. How he looked at me was sickening, illegal even, given my age. Sticking close to Romeo’s side, we walked back down the aisle to the row of fridges along the back wall. The men up front started talking, voices terse and defensive. I watched them in the round security mirror hanging in the top corner, their hands wildly gesticulating.

Although he stood at the fridge, Romeo didn’t replace the milk as intended. Instead, he scanned his surrounding, biting hard on his bottom lip, nostrils flaring in anger. He paced back and forth like an antsy bull.

“Just give me the money and I’ll pay for it,” I placated.

“Fuck him! He doesn’t deserve my business. And besides, he’ll still charge you the same knowing you’re giving it to me. Racist asshole. Does he know I was born here?”

This time I was biting my lip with nerves, worried we’d be heard, and worried my best friend would end up doing something he regretted.

“Well… what are you going to do?”

He glanced over the aisle and then back to me, his anger having turned to mischief. “Whatever the fuck is going on between him and Salvatore has got him distracted.” His eyes glistened. “It’s now or never, babe.”

He left me standing there, determined to leave the store with everything his mother asked for. I snatched at his wrist before he got too far ahead.

“You can’t steal this!” I whispered.

He winked. “Watch me.” He turned but I stopped him again.

Taking a deep breath, I couldn’t believe what I was going to say. “Give me the bread, you take the milk.”

Romeo shook his head, hating the idea. “Nah-ah. This isn’t on you.”

“I know it isn’t, but you walking out looking like a pack horse is going to look a little obvious, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” he conceded.

“Give it to me.” I snatched the bread and aligned it with the loaf I’d purchased. From side on it wouldn’t be noticed. Opening and closing the fridge door for effect, we headed back down the aisle and bypassed the counter. It felt weird not saying goodbye to Mr. Hopkins, but when I glanced at the men who were still engrossed in a heated debate, I watched a resentful Mr. Hopkins hand over an envelope, the top opened enough to reveal a thick wad of cash inside. The doorbell chimed and I felt a rush of panic. I’d never stolen anything before, and this was by far, the worst thing I’d ever done. However, Mr. Hopkins’ behavior toward Romeo and his family was completely unacceptable. Especially if he’d been consistently overcharging them all these years.

“Hey!” Mr. Hopkins clued on quick. Too quick for our liking. “Come back here with that bread,” he shouted.

“Shit,” Romeo cursed wishing he’d been firmer with me. “Lucy, run home. Now!” But I couldn’t. Frozen firmly in place, Romeo had to shove me into action. “Go, now.”

I turned and ran, sprinting for the corner that would take me the long way home. I was never meant to make it very far, a pedestrian knocking shoulders with mine, both turning the blind corner. I rebounded and grazed my back along the bring wall.

I apologized before looking, and then I wished I hadn’t.

“What’s the rush, little Lucy?” Dominic asked, giving his trademark smirk.

I couldn’t answer because I was shocked over the state of his face.

“Oh, this?” he appeared amused, although I didn’t know why. “This is nothing compared to what I’m used to.” He bit his lip. “I guess we have that in common.”

I never would have thought Dominic Salvatore and I would have such an awful thing in common. But then, it kind of made sense. He left eye was badly bruised and swollen, it was sealed closed.

He glanced down at the incriminating loaf of bread and smiled. “You better run, Lucy.”

I’d wasted enough time, although I didn’t know why it seemed to matter. Mr. Hopkins knew where I lived, as with Romeo. Romeo lived in the only Mexican-looking house in the neighborhood so that much was obvious.

Dominic winked with his one good eye and disappeared around the corner. I turned in the opposite direction, only to meet a brick wall of the human kind. A large hand wrapped around the back of my neck and forced me against the side of the parked SUV, the two loaves of bread falling in the gutter. My cheek burned on the car’s heated panel and my attempts to wriggle free were met with more force.

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