and have to refrain from asking if her water broke. She told me she’d stab me if I asked one more time.
“Hello?” I answer in a playful, singsong voice.
“I need a trampoline,” she says as clear as day on the phone.
“What?” A trampoline?
“I need to get this baby out! My fat ass needs to get on the trampoline and have gravity do its thing.” I bust out laughing. I freaking love her. I smile as Rigs barrels into the room, wagging his tail that moves the back half of his body. He looks ridiculous. This dog is going to be huge when he's fully grown. I walk to the back door and let him out while she talks.
“I need to get this painting done and then have a nice glass of wine,” I sigh into the phone as I shut the door, leaving him out to play in the fenced backyard. It’s a large backyard. It’s the perfect size for a trampoline or a swing set. I rub my belly, thinking we could have a little one someday. I could be complaining about heartburn and backaches like Becca does. I think I’d go with a swing set though. Trampolines seem a little scary for little ones.
“Well, have an extra one for me,” Becca says with a laugh. I smile at Becca’s playful tone, and then my heart stops.
I can hear Rigs snarling and growling, and then all of a sudden he's barking like crazy. My blood freezes, and my body goes numb with paralysis. I’m not okay. I turn to race to the backyard to get him. I need to get to Rigs. I don’t make it two steps before the front door smashes open, and I scream and drop the phone. My body nearly falls to the ground, I just barely catch myself, and I cover my head with my arms before staring at them with wide eyes.
There are three or four men, all dressed in long-sleeved black shirts, wearing ski masks, covering their faces. One of them is pointing a gun at me as the others move around him, walking toward me with determined steps. One barks orders at the others. He sounds Hispanic. The responses he gets sound like American accents though. I try to pay attention to the details. I scream it out, hopeful that Becca will hear. “Four men! One is Hispanic! Gun! Al--”
A hand whips across my face, knocking me to the ground. A metallic taste fills my mouth. I see my phone on the ground. My heart sinks. It’s off. It must’ve hung up when it fell from my hands. She didn’t hear. My eyes close with failure. I know they’re going to take me. I know there’s nothing I can do. My body goes limp. I won’t fight them. Not here. Not now. Not when I don’t have a chance. I didn’t just start living for them to come and kill me. It’s not going to happen like this. I won’t let it.
Someone kicks me in the stomach. I try to curl inward, but they grab me. The last thing I see is a fist coming at my face as one man holds my arms to my side and pins my back to his chest. The fists lands hard on my jaw, and the world fades to black.
I don’t fight it. I’ll wait.
And when I wake...
I will make them pay for taking me away from Vince.
Vince
I tap the small, black velvet box in my pocket as I get out of the car and shut the door. I can’t wait to ask her. Well, I’m not going to ask. I’m going to tell her she’s marrying me. It’s been enough time that Ma will approve. She calls me after their lunch dates. I’m glad the two of them get along. Nothing at all like the relationship Elle has with her mother.
I cringe remembering how she reacted when I told her Sandra went to rehab. Maybe once she’s out and stays sober Elle will believe she’s changed. It seems like the more time she spends with the familia, the more resistant she is to forgiving Sandra. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it just hurts me thinking she won’t have a relationship with her own mother.
My phone’s going off again. I know it’s Dom. He’s been calling to get my ass down to the docks, but I told him yesterday, today, they would have to wait a while. Right now it’s all for her.
I