Crashed Into a Gangster

3

I need to call her back - before she calls Jack. I get to the car and my hands control themselves, shaking and rummaging around the floor of the vehicle.

I eventually feel my phone at the bottom of the passenger seat and yank it from underneath. I immediately dial her number. Pulling it up to my ear, I glance at the front porch to see a curious Jack, his gaze peering in my direction.

"Honey..." he begins. "What happened to the car?" He questions curiously, from the front porch. I follow his gaze and spot the dent on the side of my Nissan again. Right...

"Um, just had some car troubles when I was on the way." I shout back, plastering a faint reassuring smile. By the look on his face he doesn't buy it, but he shrugs anyway.

Wow.

I watch Jack then nod from the porch. "OK!" He responds with the house phone now pressed against his ear.

Well, I now know if there was ever any more damage on a car of ours, he would be perfectly fine with it. Noted.

"Hello? Vic?!" I hear my sister pick up. "Ann, I'm so sorry-"

"I called about a hundred times after all that racket! You never answered, what happened?!" She interjects, concern piping in her voice.

"I bet you did, I..." I suck in a breath. "I got into an accident." I continue. "But don't tell Jack! He'd freak out." I instinctively add on quietly.

"What?! What kind of accident? How bad is it?!" She asks over the line.

Very. "I'm OK, Ann. It definitely wasn't a hard hit." I look at Jack as he's talking on the phone to someone on the porch as I'm far in the driveway, I turn my back to him and begin to whisper.

"Look, Ann, the guy I crashed into he...he was angry and had a gun and he threatened me-" I don't get to rush out the last words before Ann is quick to interject.

"Whoa, whoa. This guy had a gun, Victoria?!"

"Yes!" I whisper. "He...he told me to work for him." I finish.

"Huh?" Ann questions.

"I don't know! He said I just do my job, but for him! What does that even mean?!" I merely ask myself the last part, running a hand through my short brown hair.

"OK, OK, listen, Vic. You have to go to the police, do you remember what he looked like?" Ann says, earning for my brows to merely raise in return.

"What, no!? I can't go to the cops!" I blurt yet maintain my whisper.

"So you don't remember how he looks? Or no about you going to the cops?" She asks with confusion. I roll my eyes.

"No, Ann - of course I remember how he looks... how could I forget..." I mumble. "But he specifically said do not go to the police!! I can't!"

"Man..." I hear my sister breathe, "and this guy held a gun up to you?!"

I let out a shaky breath just hearing her question - her words bringing back the feeling of the gun harshly pressed against my stomach. I shiver. "Yes. Look, you can't go to the police, Ann. I don't know if he knows where I live!"

"Whoa, why would he know where you live?"

I clear my throat and glance over my shoulder at Jack, who just now shut the front door behind him when he walked inside the house. "The guy said I would see him again." I whisper and let out a smooth breath. "He sounded so sure about it..."

"OK, that's it. I'm coming over," My sister says.

"No! Not with Jack here." I throw back, feeling my hands steadying, loosing the shakiness.

"So get rid of him!" Ann shouts lowly.

I nod although she can't see me. "OK, OK." I begin to walk from the driveway and walk up to the front door of my house. Stopping in my tracks just before I open it, confusion builds up inside me. "Wait, how do I do that?"

I hear my sister let out an exasperated breath on the other line.

But instead, I go to speak myself. "You know what, I won't get rid of Jack. I'll handle this." I remark firmly.

"What do you mean 'handle' it?" She asks me.

"Jack won't know about any of this because it'll only involve the police, trust me I know. And that's exactly what the tattooed guy told me not to do. I'll... I'll wait for him."

"Wait for who?!"

"The guy. I'll wait for him to show up somewhere whenever he does."

"The gangster?! He could've been lying, Vic!"

I bite my lip, remembering the guy's farewelled words. You'll see me again. I'll let you know when you start.

"The way he said it all... I think part of me knows that he wasn't."

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