Roses & Thorns

Chapter Four: The Boss

I had just turned twenty-one when it all happened. Getting evicted or kicked out of apartment after apartment had really taken its toll and I shivered on the front steps of what seemed to be a post office after a full day of roaming the busy streets.

There were no other people on the streets but at a distance I could hear the faint sound of police sirens and the thumping of a heavy bass beat.

I didn't know where to go. I only knew one other person in New York and that was Rebecca Santana from my last job as a waitress. She'd been the only employee to warn me about the harsh reality of working late shifts at the diner where drunk men were daring and perverted. Though, despite her words, I'd evidently ended up kicking a customer who purposely grazed my ass as I brought over a steaming bowl of soup. But the tip of the ice berg, and the act that had gotten me fired, was my poor decision to slap the cheek of a mafia man after he grabbed my chest. Immediately after I did it I knew I was in trouble regardless of how violated I felt from his actions.

Rebecca gave me her phone number when I left, in case of an emergency. She knew of my hopeless situation and she knew I had nowhere to go.

But should I call her? It had been a few days since I'd been fired and I was sure that she was busy. She was a single mother and the last thing she needed was my grown ass squatting on her sofa for several nights job searching while eating ramen noodles.

I stood up, grabbed my duffle and headed down the street. I didn't know where I was going, but I figured walking toward the sound was my best gamble.
• • • • • •
There was a hard knock on the door that sat at the top of the staircase. The staircase led down to the dingy basement that I'd spent the entire night in. I hadn't slept, partially because the twin sized bed by the far wall looked as if it were rusting to the point of no return. The other reason was because I had been kidnapped and I didn't feel that closing my eyes was an appropriate thing to do.

It wasn't a large space but I was sure that the door by the stereo set led to a more lavish area that was unfortunately locked. They'd shoved me in this antique room with a non functioning kitchenette and two windows that were too small for even a mouse to crawl through.

The knock sounded again but this time it was followed by a voice.

"Can I come down?" I wasn't familiar with the soft voice that spoke but I simply responded with a "yes" and heard footsteps descending to my jail.

"Good morning." A blonde haired woman who wore a white body con dress and navy blue heels approached me with a tray in her hand. "I have your breakfast."

My expression was that of confusion as I sat on a wooden chair. The same chair I had sat on all night.

"I'm not hungry." I lied but only because I refused to believe anyone cared enough to feed me. I'd gone two days without food before. This was nothing.

"Oh," she paused and pressed her lips together. "I was told to bring food to you."

"They care enough to feed me here?" I found that highly unlikely. 

The woman sighed and set the tray down on the table in front of me.

"Right." She gave me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry-uh-I don't recall your name."

"Rosemary." She repeated my name silently then smiled.

"I'm Hannah. I'll be bringing your meals down for-" she paused and shook her head. "I'll be sure to make this situation a bit more accommodating for you Rosemary."

"Really?" Her face said it all by the unsure expression. 

"I'll try my best." She assured but I still knew her best wasn't possible. I was stuck here.