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Daddy, he placed five hundred dollars in your wallet. Don’t spend that money.I glanced at the driver, then increased the volume of the radio from the backseat control panel. I didn’t want him to hear my conversation. The snowy trees lining the sides of the road held my attention.
You know where that money came from?I whispered.
Yes, Malaysia, I do. I will not spend one red cent of that money!
I love you, Daddy. I’ll stop by the shop Monday evening to look over the books.
Ok, sweetheart. I will see you then, bye.
Bye, Daddy.I disconnected the call.
I was done crying. I had nothing left but anger coursing through my veins. I wanted to beat my brother’s ass until he saw the light.
En route to the nightclub, I tapped away on my cell screen.
Ethan, sorry I bailed on you this evening. My family issues are escalating. I have to cancel our standing OH for tomorrow. I’m sorry. Have a good night.
“Ms. Newton, we have arrived at your destination.”
I smiled at the driver. “Thank you. Please be here at three a.m.”
“Not a problem. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
The heater I borrowed from my mother was slowly warming up my small room. At four a.m., my gaze was fixated on the navy curtains covering the two windows in the bedroom.
I rubbed my layered feet together under the three blankets like match sticks.
Ethan texted twice last night.
First text message:
Malaysia, why won’t you tell me what’s going on? I’m worried about you.
Second text message:
Call me.
I didn’t call Ethan. What would I say? ‘Ethan, can you find my brother? He’s running the streets selling drugs. Hold a gun to his head and take him home.’
No, I couldn’t bother that man. My eyelids fluttered, then shut.
The heavy banging on the apartment door jarred me from my sleep. I peeked at the clock on the nightstand ten-fifteen a.m. it read.
Hopefully, it’s the super coming to inform me the heat was being restored. I wrapped a blanket around my body. The fluffy socks carried me across the creaking floor. “I’m coming!” I stared through the peephole.
A tall man stood in the middle of the hall with his back to the door. Then an angry face turned toward the door.
“Malaysia, open the door. It’s Ethan!”
My heart seemed to plummet to my feet. “Ethan, you can’t be here.” I patted the purple scarf on my head.
“Shit!” I whispered.
I looked fucking terrible. Leaving the chain on the door, I inched the door open a bit. “Yes, Ethan.”
He stood with his hands deep in his black, tweed, three-quarter-length coat pockets, staring at me. “Let me in, now!” His cheeks reddened.
