Natsinet laughed.
“You sound like you’re scared of me. As big as you are? I bet you could snap my neck with one hand.”
Big Mike reached out quickly and grabbed her by the throat in one of his tremendous paws, squeezing just enough so that Natsinet could feel his strength, how easily he could end her life. Her pulse sped up as fear shot adrenalin through her bloodstream.
“Believe that,” he muttered. Gone was the easy-going expression he’d slipped into after seeing Mrs. Smith. “I could kill you before you could blink.”
“Then I won’t.”
She slid the knife out of her pocket and into his gut. Mike’s eyes went wild and he tightened his grip on her throat, pinching her windpipe shut. She withdrew the knife and stabbed him again. His grip tightened. She was starting to see spots. She pulled the knife out again and this time Mike caught the blade before it could descend once more.
“You fuckin’ bitch!” Mike roared. “You tryin’ to kill me? I’m gonna rip your fucking head off!”
His grip was incredibly strong. Natsinet felt herself beginning to lose consciousness. She fought to free her hand from his grip, struggled to wrest her neck from his other hand. She was successful at neither. She could see Mike’s eyes beginning to glaze just as her own vision went black.
Chapter Nineteen
Tonya rushed straight from the conference room to the parking lot, ignoring the look of disapproval on the face of her boss. She had to go see her mother. Something just felt wrong.
She’d spent an hour in the meeting that morning, then excused herself and tried calling the apartment. When nobody picked up she was gripped by a sudden dread. Something was wrong over there. She folded her cellphone up and went back into the conference room to get her things.
Chad looked at her in annoyance as she scooped up her briefcase and purse.
“Tonya? You’re leaving?”
“I have to go,” Tonya explained quickly, ignoring the curious looks from her co-workers. Bernie had been in the middle of a presentation; he looked on in concern. Most of the people in the room looked concerned, but not Chad. “My mother’s sick. I’ve got to go.”
“Tonya!”
Ignoring him, she left the conference room and hurried through the maze of cubicles to the hallway and out the building.
She tried calling the apartment several times as she walked out to the parking lot and made her way to her car. The phone rang and rang. She hung up and called back three more times and then tried Big Mike’s cell phone. No answer there either. She continued trying to call both phones as she hopped onto I-95 and made her way toward the city. By the time she reached Philadelphia she still had not reached either of them and was starting to panic. Tonya knew what Mike did for a living and a drug dealer not answering his cell phone was bad business. If anything, Big Mike was an excellent businessman.
Tonya hit Lincoln Drive doing sixty through the nerve-jarring turns, not caring for her own safety but only that of her mother.
Something is wrong. Why won’t someone answer? Where the hell is Natsinet?
Tonya was afraid that perhaps Natsinet had walked off the job and left her mother alone or worse. Maybe someone had broken into the house or attacked Natsinet on the way to the house. A dozen different possibilities went through her head including one she didn’t want to even consider; that perhaps she didn’t know Big Mike as well as she thought she did and he’d done something to Natsinet and momma. That would explain why he wasn’t answering his cell phone. He would know it was her calling to check on momma, and if he’d done something to them—but that was impossible. She’d known Big Mike her entire life. Yet she knew that Natsinet had a way of rubbing people the wrong way. She could imagine her getting under Mike’s skin, and if he was drunk or high…plus they’d already gotten off on the wrong foot when he’d gone over there last night. Still, there was no way he would hurt her mother no matter how pissed off or intoxicated he was. He had too much respect for Tonya’s mother to do anything to hurt her. Even if he beat Natsinet to death he would have stayed there to look after her mother until Tonya could get there. He would have called her and told her to come home quickly. He wouldn’t just leave her in the dark.
So what the hell is going on?
A car pulled out in front of her and Tonya stomped on her brakes. The front of her car collided with the other car’s driver side door, pushing it in and bending the other car in half. Tonya’s head shattered the windshield, opening a gash on her forehead.
“Shit!”
The rear of the vehicle skidded and Tonya fought to control the skid. Her car came to rest at the side of the road, facing oncoming traffic. A sports car narrowly missed her, the driver honking in irritation. She felt a spurt of adrenaline surge through her as she stepped on the gas after coming to a stop—she had to get back on the road. Had to get to her mother’s apartment but the car stalled, then died.
Tonya pounded her fist on the steering wheel. She was only four or five miles from her mother’s home, but by the time she got done with the police it could be another two hours.
“Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!” Tonya buried her face in her hands and cried in frustration.
Around her, traffic continued as cars drove around the accident. A couple of good Samaritans ventured out of their vehicles and headed toward the accident. A young White guy in blue jeans and a white t-shirt leaned toward Tonya’s side of the car.
“Ma’am, you okay?”
Tonya risked a glance at the car she’d hit. A crowd of people were gathered around it. Somebody was leaning inside, talking to the driver. She wondered how badly they were hurt.
“Ma’am?” The man tried to get her door open. It was stuck. “You hurt anywhere else besides your head?”
Tonya shook her head. Her head didn’t hurt at all. She touched her fingers to her forehead and felt blood.
“Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out of there,” The man outside her car said. He was already joined by an older White guy and a young guy who looked Puerto Rican. Off in the distance she heard sirens.
Tonya Brown’s day had just gotten worse.
Chapter Twenty
The EMT insisted Tonya be taken to the hospital and was having none of her protests. He listened with a fake look of concern on his face that just barely masked his annoyance as his partner, a big guy with an olive complexion, made sure she was secure on the back brace.
“I’m telling you, I can’t go to the hospital! My mother’s in trouble! I have to get to her!”
“Uh huh, that’s what they all say,” the EMT said. He was a young White guy with a mop of black hair. “My mother’s in trouble, or I’m late to work or band practice or whatever. I’ve heard it a million times lady, and if I were you I’d count yourself damn lucky you made it out of this accident with your brain still in your brain pan.”
“Listen to me you little shit!”
“Wanna hear something?” The EMT didn’t seem fazed by Tonya’s anger. He leaned closer to her as his partner secured her to the gurney. “One time we had an accident victim like you. Guy was doing a hundred in a fifty mile an hour zone. He hit a tree head on. Dude wasn’t drunk or under the influence, he was just a really bad driver, know what I mean? He put on the same song and dance you’re putting on now and my supervisor, who showed up at the site, made the call for the guy to sign himself out. Turns out the guy had broken his back and didn’t know it. He got maybe ten feet before one of his discs collapsed and one of his vertebrae slipped down at just the right angle and—bam! It severed his spinal cord. I’ve never seen a guy drop so fast in my life.”