Rely on Me - Elizabeth Knox Page 0,30

explaining I got tied up.

“Har du bundit dig? Bokstavligen?” He asks if I got tied up, literally.

“Nej, inte bokstavligen. Jag ser att mamma har haft ett negativt inflytande på dig igen.” I tell him no, saying that I see Mom has been a negative influence on him yet again. She always has to corrupt his mind. She got him into floggers and he felt the need to tell us at a family dinner. I almost vomited over the entire spread on the table. There are certain things I don’t need to know about my parents, including their sex life.

“Ja. Kommer du att vara här snart?” He says yes, asking if I’ll be there soon.

“Nej jag är ledsen. Jag borde ha ringt. Jag är minst två timmar bort just nu med trafik. Var är du?” I tell him no, that I won’t be there for a bit because I’m at least two hours away due to traffic, then ask him where he is.

“I din lägenhet. Några av dina saker kom in så jag har packat upp dem åt dig. Din hyresvärd gav mig nycklarna, eftersom jag undertecknade hyresavtalet med dig.” I feel nausea storm through me when he says he’s in my apartment, how the landlord gave him the key since he co-signed my lease with me, telling me how he’s been unpacking some of my things already.

I don’t like the idea of him being there, not with what happened last time. “Pappa, lämna lägenheten. Jag kan lägga bort saker senare. Jag känner mig inte bekväm att du är där ensam. Sanningen är att det var en incident i går kväll. Två män bröt in i min lägenhet i Baltimore. Med allt som händer glömde jag att ringa och berätta.” I ask him to leave the apartment, telling him I can put things away later and don’t feel comfortable with him being there alone. I go on to tell him a bit about last night, masking it as only being a break in. Then tell him again that with everything going on I forgot to call and tell him.

“Vad? Är du okej? Fick polisen dem?” He’s shocked, asking if I’m okay and if the police got them.

I don’t have the heart to tell him what happened, so I lie. “Ja, de sitter i fängelse. Kan du lämna? Jag vill inte ha dig där ensam. . . de visste vem jag var pappa. De letade efter mig och var bundna till en kubansk gäng.” I say they’re in jail, asking him to leave again, reiterating I don’t want him to be there alone because these men were after me specifically. I go on to tell him they were in a Cuban gang.

“Varför skulle folk leta efter dig? Du är söt, min tjej.” He wants to know why people would look for me since I’m his sweet girl.

“Jag skulle hellre prata med dig om detta personligen, men inte i telefon. Jag kan vara i Philadelphia om ett par timmar. Låt oss träffas för en sen middag, okej?” I say how I’d rather speak to him about this in person and can be in Philadelphia in the next couple hours. How we can get a late dinner and wait for his response.

I hear a door shutting just as he begins to speak again. “Okej, perfekt. Jag kommer tillbaka till mitt hotell och berätta för mig när du är här. Du kan berätta var du vill äta.” He tells me it’s perfect and how he’ll go back to his hotel. He also wants me to let him know when I’m close and the place to eat.

“Okej, jag älskar dig.” I tell him okay, and say I love him.

“Jag älskar d—” He begins to tell me he loves me before he abruptly stops speaking to me. “Can I help you gentlemen?”

“Lars Karlsson?” I don’t mistake the Cuban accent, knowing it better than anything else after last night.

“Dad, run!” I scream into the phone.

The only thing I hear is the sounds of gunshots going off.

Mammoth comes right up to me, “What is it? What happened?”

“He was l-leaving and h-he . . . gunshots.” I can’t speak in complete sentences, my hand shaking so badly I drop the phone.

“Where was he?” Mammoth doesn’t seem phased at all, asking me everything he needs to know.

I give him the address of where my apartment building is, and he makes a call. I don’t know who he’s calling, but I know he must be doing something. This all seems to be