The Family Business

“I’ll find it,” I said with relief. “And, Tony, I love you.”


He didn’t say it back before he hung up. In fact, I could have sworn I heard a laugh as he disconnected the call. But I had bigger things to think about now. I headed back into the house.



Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the Howard Beach Motor Lodge, a serious step down from our usual five-star rendezvous spots. I always swore I’d never go into one of those short-stay motels, but then again, I never thought that I’d cheat on my husband, or that my daughter would get kidnapped. My life had taken a drastic turn from the path I always thought I’d be on.

I knocked twice before Tony opened the door. I felt my chest tighten at the sight of him. He took me into his arms, but it was far from comforting to me. I could almost feel his eyes surveying the parking lot as he hesitantly welcomed me inside.

“Oh, Tony, they’ve got my baby.” In spite of his strange behavior, I collapsed against his chest and sobbed.

He led me over to the bed and helped me sit down. “This world is so crazy. Nowhere is safe anymore.” He was saying the right things, but it sounded so mechanical, so cold.

“They took her and shot my security in cold blood.” I looked deep into his eyes as I asked, “What kind of people do this?”

He looked away quickly and answered, “Animals, only animals.... Maybe they’re after a ransom or something.”

“That’s what the police said, but no one has called about a ransom yet.”

The color drained from his olive skin. “Police? You called the police?”

I felt it in the pit of my stomach; my instincts had been right. There was only one reason Tony would be concerned about the police being involved.

“Oh, Tony. Just hold me, please,” I said, though the last thing I wanted was to feel this man’s arms around me now. I just needed to check one thing to confirm what my intuition was already telling me.

As he leaned in close, I placed my hands on his back and felt it: a bandage on his back, in the same spot where I’d stabbed my attacker with a pen. Ever since the shock of the attack had subsided a bit, I’d had this nagging feeling that I knew the voice of my attacker. At first my brain—or maybe it was my heart—wouldn’t allow me to acknowledge the painful truth that it was Tony’s voice. I hadn’t wanted to believe it, but feeling this bandage now, I had the proof I needed.

Tony pulled back a little when he felt my hand on the bandage. As our eyes met, a sinister grin passed over his face.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“You ...

His hands were on me in an instant, throwing me around like a rag doll. I tried to fight back, but he effortlessly pinned me on my stomach, yanked up my skirt, and tore off my panties.

“No,” I gasped as he plunged into me violently.

“Shhh. Relax. I just want to take away your pain,” he hissed into my ear as he rammed himself into me over and over again. The weight of his body made it hard to breathe. I lay there, crying silently, as he tore me apart. It wasn’t long before he finished his business and got up off me. He pulled up his pants without even cleaning himself.

“I hate you, you son of a bitch!” I yelled as I jumped off the bed and yanked my skirt back down.

He laughed. “You have no idea how much you’re gonna hate me. Now, get your black ass outta here.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes and left without another word to Tony. I would get payback later. Right now I had only one thing on my mind—getting Mariah back.

“Was it him?” Junior sat up in the backseat when I got into the car.

Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books