Page 5 of The Hellcat Barbies: Saskia
“Ma’am. Do you need some assistance?”
An older woman who looked too aged to be working stood before me, wearing a Jagoda Bay train station shirt, black pants, and holding a broom with blue plastic gloves on her hands.
“If you could point me to the taxis, that would be great.”
She smiled, giving me the same feeling of comfort as a grandchild lying under their grandmother. It was the first time in thirty days I felt at ease, even though I was still far from out of the muddy waters. Jagoda Bay was only a few hours from Sparkling City. I was too close to home. I had been here many times, especially to shop. Some of my father’s favorite stores and many of my favorite restaurants were here. Jagoda Bay was the only place I considered to take a job outside Sparkling City because it was close enough to my father. One of the scouts from Jagoda One – a private hospital here – had come to the school, and our chat had gone well.Shaking my head, I refocused on the little old lady in front of me. There was no point in thinking about work or anything tied to my life. I had to survive.
Lifting her finger, she pointed to the line of black Taxis that were parked on the curve only a few feet away from us. My cheeks warmed in embarrassment as I thanked her and headed that way. Hopping in the back of one, the smell of incense burned my nostrils as the driver with the turban wrapped around his head watched me in the rearview mirror.
“Where to?”
“J.W. Marriott downtown.”
Giving a quick nod, he eased into traffic as I rolled down the window. I needed some air. Not only were the fumes making me dizzy, but so was this whole day. Still, I was trying to stay calm and hopeful.
“Please, daddy. I know you wanted me to marry this guy, but I can’t. If you’re watching like you promised you always would, give me a sign. Give me a sign that I’m doing the right thing,” my whispered voice cracked.
“Excuse me?”
Clearing my throat, I shook my head without even bothering to look at the driver through the rearview mirror.
“Nothing.”
After nearly ten minutes of driving, I replayed the entire escape in my head, trying to see if I’d missed anything she instructed. I had taken the train to Jagoda Bay and now I was in the cab on the way to J.W. Marriott. It had been foolish to put my life in the hands of a stranger, but I had no other options.
The taxi stopped at a red light, and as I looked out the window, my eyes landed on the most beautiful Challenger I’d ever seen. Grief welled up in my chest. This one was clearly brand new and happened to be painted in two of my favorite colors. It was teal, with a hot pink stripe running vertically down the hood and across the sides. It wasn’t in traffic; it was parked outside what looked like a bar.Seeing a Challenger shouldn’t have made me nearly break down in the backseat of this corner store-smelling taxi. I was so disappointed in my father. I was confused by his actions, but still, I couldn’t bring myself to hold malice toward the only person I had in the world.Then realization hit.
“Did she say her husband was a Don? As in Mafia?” I asked myself in another whisper.
“What did you say?” The driver’s accent was so thick that his words nearly ran together.
I’m Dasani Rinaldi. Wife of Don Demise Rinaldi. Now, run.
A wave of black terror swept through me. My stomach clenched tightly, and I could barely steady my racing pulse. The light turned green.
“STOP!”
The driver suddenly slammed on the brakes even though he had just started to accelerate, which threw me forward. Glancing at the meter, I grabbed more money than I thought I needed from my hood pocket and slid it through the glass that separated us.
“Here? You want to get out of here? We are in the middle of the road! There are trucks-”
Opening the door, I ran toward the curve, which was more than three lanes away, before I was hit. Horns blared, but I didn’t care. I’d asked my father for a sign, and there was a Challenger parked in the lot. It was only right that he’d get me out of this mess since he’d caused it. Not even bothering to read the bar's sign, I rushed through the doors. My world had been flipped upside down, and I know I looked like an idiot in all white and glam, with my hair half-pinned up, but the patrons inside hardly looked at me. I was a whole runaway bride, and the best I could do was hide in a bar. I was most definitely doomed.But at least I wasn’t at Blackberry Farms.
Chapter Two
SAY YES
Saskia “Sass” Coy
The sun was due to set in about an hour, so it was still daylight outside, but you’d think it wasn’t based on how dark the bar was.
The inside had several pool tables, a DJ, over thirty flat-screen TVs, brick walls, and a wooden bar top. It wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded either. It was probably too early to be at a bar, but I didn’t care. I didn’t have a phone. I didn’t have a plan. I was on limited funds. Still, I had no regrets about getting out of the car. Dasani had been helpful, but Don equals mob. I knew that much. My father made sure I was knowledgeable in all things crime and well-versed in the many roles a person could take on when they made money illegally. Mobs kill people, traffic drugs, and commit various illegal activities for their organization. It didn’t matter that it was organized; it was still illegal, and I wanted no part of it. She mentioned that I might not like the solution she came up with. I felt bad about taking her money and fleeing, but I had to prioritize myself, or I might as well have stayed at the venue.
Taking an end seat, I sat there, twiddling my thumbs while trying to figure out what was next. I couldn’t stay in Jagoda Bay. As much as I loved it here, it was too close to my doom. So,first things first, I needed to decide where I would go and how I would survive. I couldn’t use my debit card. My father hadn’t given me my inheritance, but my account still had well over two hundred grand in it. My father had been giving me a monthly allowance since I was a teen, and since I hadn’t had much to buy, most of the money had been stacking up for some time. I also still had my AMEX, the only credit card I’d gotten on my own. My father had been building my credit since I was thirteen and preached the importance of responsible credit card use. I’d rarely used it, but Dasani’s warning about not using a credit card lingered. I was in a tough spot, but I’d come this far, so I was confident I’d get through the rest.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
A short, brown-skinned bartender who had been smiling at two men's faces a few seats down finally came over to serve me. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed a drink or three to calm my nerves, and I knew I had to eat something before drinking alcohol.
