“At Luigi’s Palace.”
Antonio nods. “Pink or blue side?”
“Not sure.”
“Is your apartment’s door pink or blue?”
“Pink.”
“We call that one Luigiana’s Wing.”
We ride a few more minutes before Antonio drops me off. I try to tip him, but he seems offended, so I apologize and thank him profusely before climbing two flights of stairs to reach my apartment. Once inside, I shower and plan to nap for an hour before I have to catch my flight at one o’clock.
A knock on the door wakes me out of deep sleep. I check my watch. It’s not time to check out for another few hours, but the other days I’ve stayed here, I noticed housekeeping chatting loudly outside as they went about their work. Maybe that’s them, thinking I left already.
I remain in bed, hoping they’ll go away.
They knock again. Still, I don’t rise.
Knock-knock.
Persistent mofos.
On my way to the door, I swipe a pink robe and shrug it on. There’s no peephole, so I secure the door with a chain before opening it and peeking out.
It’s housekeeping.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
“Yes,” a tall, large woman says, slapping her hand on the door. She throws her weight at it, the chain gives, and the door slams into my face. Blood spurts from my nose, and I pinch it while three different people file into my room. I hold my nose, hoping it didn’t break, fully aware that these people are here to rob me. So much for island safety, huh?
“My suitcase is in the closet,” I say. “Money is in the sack inside it. Take whatever you want, but please leave my passport so I can travel today.”
“Come here.” The tall woman in a housekeeping uniform grabs my elbow and leads me to the bed. She forces me to sit down on the mattress.
The other two intruders are men. One stays by the door. The other is going through my suitcase. He takes out my passport.
Yes.” I nod. “I only need that. You have no use for it.” Blood’s dripping down my chin. I taste copper in my mouth. I’m terrified and but remain as calm as I can so they don’t hurt me. The man hands her my passport. She pulls a metal lighter from her pocket and flips it open, then holds my passport above it.
“No, wait, please. What are you doing? Take the money. Earrings?” I start unhooking the diamond earring from my left ear. It’s hard to part from them since my daddy bought me those, and he’s passed away, but I’m parting with them because they’re not worth my life or my passport. I have to get on the plane. My flight leaves at one. Isola di Monteverro to Rome. Rome to Washington. Washington to Louisville. That’s it. That’s my day.
Not this. This can’t be happening.
I hold out my earrings. “They’re real gold and diamonds. Take them. Please take them.”
The woman’s fat thumb slides over the flint. Flame springs up and catches my passport.
“Noooo!” I lunge to save it.
She backhands me, and I fall on the bed, bouncing off it with blood seeping through my fingers. I’m holding my nose and feel a bump forming on my cheek. Disoriented, I blink through the haze her blow caused and sit up again, holding up my bloody hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re not here for the jewelry or the money.”
A million reasons why these people are here run through my head. All of them are worse than a robbery. Kidnapping and trafficking are at the top of the list.
I put my shaking hands in my lap, my palms facing forward the way Mr. Grump showed me while we were having a good time. He said this signals submission. It’s not how he meant it, for he never hurt me, but I’ll use whatever I know to get out of this situation alive.
The man who rummaged through the suitcase notices my gesture and sits at the desk under the window, where only yesterday, I sat while I wrote about how safe I felt on the island. Thick black sunglasses rest over a nose that curves downward like a beak, giving him a somewhat menacing appearance. Sunglasses cover his eyes but not the thick, bushy eyebrows.
He wears a beige shirt, shorts, flip-flops, and a baseball cap. He looks like someone’s dad. Or a writer on an island retreat. Not a typical criminal with hardened edges to his personality that go along with a tattoo or two.
