Chapter 2
It was morning the next day, and Emma hadn't even been able to sleep properly. When she got home, she showered and tried to forget that she had faced armed men, an injury, and a lot of money. Her heart kept racing for hours. When the new day finally dawned, she felt worse than the day before because she was rotten with fatigue.
She yawned, walking through the house and wished her father good morning when she found him in the kitchen. Emma reached for the mail on the table that had her name on it and took a deep breath as she opened it.
"Holy shit..." she sat up when she saw the credit card bill. "How do I pay this now?"
"Some problem?" her father asked, watching her. But she just smiled and denied it. But there really was a problem. Emma had bought some books for university, bought new music to listen to on the streaming app, and a lot of food via the app and was now facing the credit card bill. She was too screwed up to pay for that.
"I should have taken that money," she muttered under her breath when her father said goodbye and left for work. But she decided to put the bills aside when she looked at the time. She showered in a hurry and brushed her teeth, eating only an apple for breakfast. Her day would start at university, and soon after, she would go directly to a supermarket where she worked part-time. And her day might even be labeled "ordinary" again.
She took the same bus, sat in the same seat, and listened to the same symphony. However, when she arrived at the university that day, she again felt her heart skip a beat and found herself with no way out. The same two men who had threatened her the night before were right there at the entrance to the building, watching and waiting for her with a smile on their faces.
It wasn't hard to tell that these men were from gangs. They had identical neck tattoos—a phoenix with wings spread out to the back of the neck. That, of course, not counting the other assorted tattoos and piercings they had, plus the lit cigarettes between their fingers and the unflattering black leather jackets.
Emma thought about turning around, turning her back and leaving as if she hadn't seen them, or simply running away like the day before. But before she could react, Ramon waved at her, approaching with Pietro, who, as soon as he stopped beside Emma, wrapped his arm around her, laughing when he saw her scared and cowering.
"Hi Princess," he smiled. "Relax, we're good people," Pietro said.
"The boss sent us here," Ramon said. He held up an envelope containing even more bills than the day before and handed it over.
"How... how did you know I would be here?" Emma asked, smelling the strong scent of cigarettes and woody perfume from the man hugging her.
"Come on, princess, did you forget that yesterday you showed me your bag? I saw the coat of arms on it." Slowly, Emma looked down at the bag, cursing herself for it. Some students who passed by looked at her with those men and whispered about.
"But I do not..."
"No 'but' or 'No'," Ramon warned. "Keep it safe." He himself pulled her purse and opened it, keeping the money in the biggest pocket. "We would send it by pix, but you ran away yesterday," he smiled, still too close to Foster.
Having two tall, frightening men closing in on her was agonizing.
"But now you won't run away anymore." Ramon touched her chin, smiling again. "We'll protect you from today."
"What?!" Emma was careful not to shout the question. "No need," she smiled low, completely lost in what was happening. "I'm serious, you can go."
"None of that, princess," Pietro said, finally releasing her. "In that alley, they had security cameras, and now there are people who know that you helped the boss."
"Yeah, they might come and kill you, but we'll manage if they're around," Ramon blinked.
Emma laughed, the universe had to be taking a shit with her. "Please go away. People are watching."
"Let them look," Pietro threw the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with the sole of his shoe. "Aren't you late? By the way, my name is Pietro Sanchez. This is Ramon Garcia."
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you formally, Emma Foster."
"Y-Do you know my name?"
"Puff, of course, we know. We did our homework."
"In one night?!" Emma thought. She sighed again, feeling lost, but she got scared when she heard the bell that indicated the first class and turned back to them. "Need to go."
"We know. Come on."
"Are you coming in?" her eyes widened.
"Of course, protection means always being close."
"No..."
"Yes," Ramon smiled and touched her on the shoulder, pulling her close when, this time, it was he who wrapped her in a hug and walked into the university. Everyone kept looking at her with those men and commenting more and more.
Does innocent Emma hang out with people like that? Is she naive? What does she do with that kind of people? Who are they? I never saw her with any friends. Questions came with every new step, but Emma tried not to care when she already had so many problems around her.
Ramon and Pietro left her at the entrance to the classroom and waved to the teacher. Nobody there in their right mind would really complain to gangsters, which is why they seemed to have so much freedom. Emma sat curled up when she was finally alone and wanted to disappear with the looks she still received. She didn't even have a friend with whom she could share the story of what she had become involved with, and that frustrated her a little.
When the class was over and she finally left the room, she thought that Ramon and Pietro weren't really going to be there waiting for her, but she sighed when Ramon waved again and Pietro hugged her by the shoulders.
"We'll drive you home," Pietro said. "Excited?"
"No way, I don't even know you!"
"The boss who ordered it, do you want to go against his order?"
"He's your boss, not mine!" she walked ahead, in order to leave by bus, as she would no longer walk through what had been involved in a mere alley. But Emma stopped in the university parking lot and looked back, seeing Ramon and Pietro walk calmly behind her.
"If I don't go, what does he do with me?" she stopped and asked, crossing her arms.
"Well, you'd have to try your luck to find out."
"Then I won't!"
"Are you sure?" Pietro smiled roguishly, pulling a little of the jacket he was wearing, giving her a view of the gun on his waist.
"What if I call the police?"
"Look here, girl!" Ramon deepened his voice, leaning closer when he stopped his face inches from hers. "No police shit, got it?"
Emma's body shook completely as she nodded.
"Wouldn't it be nice to take her to the studio? The boss should be there by then."
"No, not that one. He told us to take her home, and that's what we're going to do."
"Quiet," he agreed with Ramon, looking back at Emma. "Shall we go?"
"I'm not going to the house," she replied sharply. "I work."
"Are you sure the patricinha works?" Ramon asked, genuinely surprised.
"Of course, I work! I'm not a preppy girl."
"Okay, cool. But still, get in there. We'll take you and then pick you up, simple."
Emma wanted to deny it again, but she didn't want to try her luck anymore. She had no options, so she trusted those men not to kill her or do her any other harm, and she got into the luxury car that was there to take her away. Pietro was the one who directed it, while Ramon was chattering away, making her more shy than she wanted.
When they arrived at Emma's work, they judged her, of course. It was a random place, with no security and drunk men around, but still, it was her job, so they had to respect it. They left her there, with the promise that they would return at the end of the day.
And even though Emma had tried to leave the shop twenty minutes earlier, the men were back long before that, waiting for her like faithful subordinates.
"I hate you," she said, getting into the car again. Ramon laughed, he seemed more relaxed, even if it was Pietro who always pissed her off.
When they stopped a few meters from the house where Emma lived, she said goodbye, praying that they didn't feel entitled to follow her to the front door because her parents were there at that time, and she would never be able to explain what had happened. But she sighed in relief when the men simply walked away.
The next morning, when she got ready to go to the university again, she was startled by the car stopped at her door.
"What the hell!" she wanted to shout it out but couldn't. "What are you doing here again?" she asked, staring at the two men with easy smiles.
"We are your protection, have you forgotten?" Pietro asked, and Ramon blinked, fixing the ends of his mustache.
"Please?" Sanchez opened the car door. Emma watched the bus stop a few meters away but hurried and got into the car quickly so her parents wouldn't see anything.
"When are they going to stop this?" she asked, already irritated.
"When the boss decides," Ramon, who was driving that day, responded.
"This is stalking, it's a crime, you know that?"
"Do you really want to talk about crime with us?" Pietro asked, laughing along with his friend.
"It's not funny at all. You guys scare me."
"Thanks?" Pietro loved to see her angry. She was a completely different girl from the ones they had at the base or anywhere else they went. She was just funny when she got angry.
"I don't want them to do that anymore," Emma said at last.
"Like I said, it's up to the boss to decide that."
The girl snorted; that was absurd. But in the end, it was the truth. For an entire week, Pietro and Ramon would pick her up and then drive her home at the end of the day. She tried to get rid of both of them, but they kept coming to her house, picking her up, taking her to the university, and leaving her in the classroom, which intimidated and bothered the teachers and students. Ramon and Pietro scared everyone; they fought and cursed wherever they went and with anyone who looked at them the wrong way. It bothered Emma too. She bitterly regretted having saved that man.
When Friday finally arrived, Emma saw the opportunity to escape when one of her teachers canceled one of their classes and released them early. Ramon and Pietro were still around, but not on their tail. Emma left the building without ever being seen. She ran to the bus stop and waited anxiously for what would take her home. When she saw the bus approaching, her happiness was present.
"Hey! Stop right there!" she heard Pietro's voice. She looked scared and cursed when she noticed him approaching the bus stop next to Ramon. But luckily, her bus arrived at the stop before the two gangsters. She walked in, smiling when she heard them cursing outside, and sat down in the first few seats, relieved.
"Finally," she celebrated, closing her eyes, relaxing in the seat. But she didn't even get to rest for real. A dark car, luxurious but different from the one Ramon and Pietro used, closed in on the bus and stopped it.
"Is that motherfucker blind?" the driver growled.
Emma looked attentive and trembled with rage when she saw the man she had saved his life come down from there. She cursed him too, of course, asked the driver not to call and move on, but when her eyes returned again to the man in the suit who was now looking directly at her, everything in her froze. Blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and Emma's body instantly calmed down, even without permission. The girl was literally enraptured and seduced by the man's unique look and didn't even move when he made the driver open the bus doors and finally got into the car.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked quietly, smirking at her. Emma couldn't answer. Seeing him on his feet, smiling and looking so well and recovered, left her confused.
"Come with me," he raised his hand.
"No…" she whispered.
The man approached her, not even caring about the others looking at him or the traffic stopped because of him. When he stopped in front of Emma, their eyes met and connected.
"As I said?"
"I'm not going with you," she said, still stuck.
"But why not?"
"Because I do not know you."
The man's white smile appeared. His skin was lightly tanned, but everything seemed to contrast beautifully with his eyes. It was always the eyes holding Emma.
"All good," he raised his right hand. "I'm Sebastian Rivera."
Emma slowly touched the man's hand and sighed when she felt him kiss the back of her hand.
"Could you come with me now?"
Emma blinked slowly, entranced by even the man's voice. But it was when his hand rested on her waist and fit there, pulling her, that she was sure she was completely surrendered to a mobster.
"Let's go," the man called her again, and she didn't even protest. With her waist trapped by him, she walked off the bus and into the car, letting him take her home or wherever he wanted.