The man rubs his beard. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-three," I find myself saying even though I'd rather never speak to this man.
Come on, Cora, keep it together.
"Interesting." He steps closer, and suddenly, this already quaint home feels even smaller.
"Ricardo, please," Dad blurts out. "I'll do whatever you want, just leave her out of this." He reaches for the man again, but this time, Ricardo shoves him away, knocking him onto his ass.
I stifle a gasp and inch farther away, my eyes going wide at how easily he threw him down.
My dad isn't the biggest guy, but he has a foot on me and no doubt a hundred more pounds. If he was tossed aside with such a lack of effort, what would happen to me if I tried to get away?
"I'm not going to hurt you." Ricardo closes the distance between us, and once he's directly in front of me, he tilts my chin up toward him, a menacing look on his face. "At least not yet."
I ball my fists to the side and consider my options, quickly realizing I don't have any.
My phone is plugged in on my nightstand so there's no calling for help, and if I open my mouth to scream, Ricardo will surely snatch me up before I get a chance to cry out. There are no guns in the house, and even if there were, I wouldn't know how to use one. The only other weapon that comes to mind are the kitchen knives tucked away where they belong next to the toaster.
The only chance I have of making it out of this is going along with whatever it is he has in mind.
My nostrils flare, and my jaw tenses as I remain rooted in place. If I comply, maybe this will be over soon enough.
Ricardo keeps his mud-brown sights on me and says, "I accept this as payment."
Harshly, I swallow. "What?"
"You."
It's then that I smell the cigar and whiskey lingering on his breath, poorly masking a foul odor that could only be remedied by twelve gallons of mouthwash. Everything about him is repulsive. His breath. His crusty beard. The long, grey hairs wisping out of his nose. The dirt caked under his fingernails. The bulge of his belly as it pushes into me. The way he towers over me with no regard for my autonomy. Nothing is redeeming about him, and the more I'm forced to be this near him, the more my stomach turns.
I hate him, and I've only just met the man.
Ricardo skims his finger along my chin and up my cheek. "Solid bone structure." He twirls it through my hair. "It's been a while since I've had a blonde." His gaze travels south and he lowers his voice. "And I'd be thrilled to find out if the drapes match the curtains."
Without even meaning to, I shift back but not before he latches onto my arm and keeps me rooted there for his examination.
"You will stand here and obey me."
"I'm begging you," Dad says again from his spot on the floor. "I'll do anything. Please don't hurt my little girl."
In a flash, Ricardo has released me and withdraws a gun from somewhere on his body. He moves quickly, pressing the barrel to my dad's forehead. "Is this what you want? You want to fucking die?"
Dad's glistening eyes pinch shut, and I freeze, not knowing what it is I'm supposed to do. I hate how cowardice consumes me. I've been in situations where creepy men have made their advances on me. Most of the time I've been able to evade them, and a few times I haven't been as lucky, but now, this, this is something entirely different, and I do not know how to handle what's happening.
My fingers dig into my palms, and I desperately wish that this was another dream I could wake up from. I'd give anything for a gasping breath to bring me back to reality, safe and sound in my bed, but with each labored thud of my heart, I come to the realization that there is no waking up from this nightmare.
"What about you?" Ricardo turns his attention toward me and pushes the gun a bit harder into my dad's temple. "This could all be over right here and right now. You want your pops to die? You want your mom to die?" He chuckles, and I grow even more terrified. "I won't be the one to kill her, no. I'll let the cancer take her at its own pace."
I blink.Cancer?My head shakes, and I'm not sure if it's my doing or not.
"Oh," Ricardo quips. "You didn't know?" He laughs and repositions the gun in his grasp. "This just gets more interesting by the minute."
Tears trickle down my dad's cheek and confirm the truth that he's been hiding from me—that they’ve both been hiding from me.
My mom has cancer. My mom is dying.
And for whatever reason, this strange man knows more about it than I do.
