4. Vinny
CHAPTER 4
Vinny
T he clothes were the gateway to my connection with Rosa. After seeing tears streamed down her cheeks, guilt and regret washed over me as I watched her raw emotions spill out. I messed up and let her in. Now, I have two Kindles, more clothes, a TV, and tons of girly bedroom décor. Her parents' debts to my family have no influence on my pity for her. I did my best not to follow the advice from store employees and just stuck with pink and frilly stuff. Thankfully, it eases over well with Rosa. Our strained relationship is slowly inching towards conversation throughout the day. In the mornings, we drink coffee and sit on the balcony, watching the birds and talking about our favorite 80s movies. For lunch, we’ll drink beers and eat more fast food. Dinner is the same.
Two weeks in, and Rosa’s prison cell is a pink palace with fluffy, pink rugs, and flamingo print wallpaper halfway installed. I can only hope my dad won’t drop by and see what I’ve done. This house, as hideous and remote as it is, is still under his name. He let me work out the logistics. Larry’s request, of course.
But when there’s a ransom kidnapping, the victim isn’t supposed to be comfortable. What my family doesn’t understand is that, in just two weeks, I’ve changed my mind completely. Rosa Newton is unlike any woman I’ve ever met, and I can’t imagine her being killed for her parents’ debt. I silently make a deal that nothing will happen as long as my dad doesn’t come over. As long as it’s just Rosa and me in our own secluded world, no harm will find her.
Of course, I’ve always suffered from some level of delusion.
Even with Rosa’s collection of expensive things piling up around the house, she occasionally has that look of annoyance. The best I can do is show her the dusty collection of movies in the cabinets.
“My mom showed me this when I was sad about not going to college,” I tell Rosa as the opening scene of Vampires plays. Rosa’s eyes fill with wonder as she parts her lips.
“Hardcore vampire hunters was your mom’s way of making you feel better?” Rosa chuckles and crosses her arms. “I’m more of a Blade girl.”
“So, are you an antihero type of girl?” I press. The lighthearted conversation is paused as vampire bloodshed takes over the screen. Rosa winces before continuing.
“College was a dream to me so I don’t get how this movie made you feel better about not going,” she says slowly.
“I don’t need some stupid school teaching me what the streets have,” I respond, my jaw tightening. There’s a lot of regrets I have and being normal is at the top of my list. Rosa turns to look at me, sighing heavily.
“You wanted this?”
“The movie?” I play coy in the hope she’ll drop it, but her eyes say otherwise. “Choice wasn’t mine, alright? Is that what you wanna hear?”
She turns back to the screen. “I was going to be a caseworker. Too many kids grow up in the system because of deadbeat parents.”
Rosa shifts and wipes her eyes. I don’t dare look over at her.
“Shit happens, Rosa. We can’t choose our parents but it doesn’t mean we whine over our lives.” I say.
“Whine? You think I’m whining about my misfortune?” Rosa asks, her voice getting louder.
“I’m just saying don’t be a victim,” I press.
She smiles. “I’d love to not be a victim, but the night you kidnapped me I became one.” Rosa jumps to her feet and I pause the movie. Our time getting to know each other is once again cut short.
“Rosa, I didn’t mean it—”
“You think turning on some movie and talking about your criminal family can make me forget about why I’m here?” she asks with tears in her eyes. “Jesus, I’m so stupid. You are not a good person, Vinny.”
I also stand up, no longer in the mood. “Watch it! I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”
“No, you haven’t. Because if you were, you would’ve let me go!” Rosa screams as she pushes me as hard as she can. I barely stagger.
“Go to your room,” I demand coolly. Rosa swiftly races to the room and slams the door shut. I sink onto the couch with disappointment.
I doze off and wake up to the TV turned off and moonlight shining through the window after the storm passed through last night. The house is unnaturally quiet. Usually, with Rosa’s new equipment, I hear Netflix or soft jazz coming from the room.
I should probably check on her. I was pretty rude.
I stand up and make my way down the hallway. My hand hovers over the door before knocking firmly.
“Rosa, are you alright?” There’s no answer. I take a deep breath and wait a few moments.
“I’m sorry for what I said. I was being insensitive,” I add. The silence persists and it makes my stomach flip-flop. I pound my fist on the door.
“Rosa, I am coming in!” I barge through the door.
The room is dark and quiet. The bed is made and all the clothes are neatly folded and stacked in little piles on top of it, the bed is empty. The chair, normally placed by the desk, now sits on top of it. And above, there is a gaping hole in the damp and moldy ceiling, with small pieces of debris scattered on the floor below.
My heart sinks, she’s escaped.