Chapter 2 Rupi #2
I go to the cash register and punch in the keys to open the drawer.
“Accusing me of stealing and lying is hardly going to get you what you want.” I take out every bit of cash.
There isn’t much. Matthew cleans it out every day.
He’s obviously been expecting me to run off from the moment I got here.
I’ve never hidden the fact that this is just a pit stop along whatever wretched journey I’m on.
I roll up the money and shove it deep into my bra, trying not to think about the fact that it’s barely two hundred dollars, including the tip I just got.
“It doesn’t have to be this way.” Tina changes her tone, attempting some grotesque version of niceness. “We were friends once. One of the pieces you took was my dead mother’s bracelet. You can keep that if you want. Just return the file. You have no use for it.”
“I can’t imagine why you couldn’t make it as an actress. You’re not half bad.” She’s actually terrible. “Maybe you can give Hollywood another shot. I hear there are more roles for older women these days. Unless you plan to keep Ron’s operation going?”
“You’re forcing me to go to the cops.”
Despite myself, I groan in frustration. “Stop treating me like I’m stupid, Tina.
” I consider leaving Matthew a note, but I’m not living the kind of life where I get to say my goodbyes.
What’s the point, anyway? He was only interested in learning my technique, and he’s already gone as far as he can with that. Talent can’t be taught.
I put on my mask, cap, and glasses. Time to get out of here. “I think bringing someone to this country under false pretexts and then forcing them to work without pay after taking away their passport might be a bigger crime than whatever lie you’re planning to pin on me.”
This time her pause is longer. “I wouldn’t have to lie.
Do you think we don’t have cameras in the house?
” There’s another pause. I’ll bet she’s wondering if she should offer up my passport, but that would mean admitting to having it.
“You are stupider than I thought if you believe Ron could do what he was doing if he was afraid of the cops.” Finally she hits her target.
Cold sweat breaks across my skin. Of course they’ve always had the cops in their pockets.
“If you’re arrested for theft, you’ll be deported. ”
I’m going to be deported even if I’m not arrested for theft, thanks to her and Ron. “I didn’t steal anything. You owed me a year and a half of wages.”
“Ron took care of you,” she has the gall to say.
I want to laugh, but I’m too sick to my stomach to manage it. “I can charge you with trafficking, you know that.”
“Is that what we’re calling entrapping and sleeping with a married man now?” she throws back.
“And what are we calling a wife aiding her creep husband in cheating a woman into moving to a foreign country so he can take advantage of her?”
“It could be argued that you lured us into bringing you to America and then supporting you at the cost of our reputation and marriage.”
“Did I also lure him into taking away my passport and holding me to ransom for it?”
“Stop lying.” She sounds tired now. “My mother’s bracelet is my only memory of her. To lose that when I’m grieving my husband. Don’t you have a heart?”
This time I do laugh. Ron told me exactly where each piece of jewelry had come from and what transgression he was apologizing to his wife for with each one.
Ron turned into a storyteller after two Lagavulins.
I knew exactly how loving that marriage was.
Not that “a loving marriage” isn’t the most oxymoronish of oxymorons.
“If you want something from me, threatening me is hardly the way to get it.” Not that I can give back the jewelry. I’ve pawned off all of it, which is probably how the private investigator tracked me. The only thing I have left are those papers. That file is my only leverage.
She sighs a deeply defeated sigh. “Fine. I’m asking nicely. What do you want?”
The last two years of my life back. “For you to leave me alone. Stop siccing private investigators on me, and stop threatening me. I don’t owe you shit, but you owe me wages and my passport. Let’s talk when you’re ready to hand that over.”
Another sigh. “Fine. Tell me where to meet you. We’ll do an exchange.”
Right. She’s already told me that the cops are in her pocket and she has me on camera taking her stuff. I send up another thanks for finding the title deed for the restaurant. “I’m not getting anywhere near you. That’s never happening. But send me my money and my passport, and we can talk.”
This time she laughs. There’s no negotiation without trust.
“That’s not going to happen until I get that file back first. Aren’t you tired? How long can you keep running?”
Oh, the woman has no idea. I’ve trained for running and hiding since the day I was born.
“Haven’t you learned this past year that you will never catch me? Give me what’s mine, or leave me alone. Otherwise I’ll destroy the thing you’re looking for.”
I can hear the anger in her pause. “Don’t underestimate me, Rupi. I know you’re not stupid enough to do that. If that’s gone, you have nothing left to protect you. You’ll never get to stop running. I know you have nowhere to go.”
In that, she’s wrong. I do have somewhere to go. I’ve been avoiding it, but it’s time. Time someone protected me for a change. Time someone paid me back for everything I’ve done for them. I’ve had enough of being the only one who pays and pays.
“You’re right,” I say. “Which is exactly why you will never know where to find me.”