“No,” I smiled a little, relieved that he didn’t, “he’s just a little different than I remembered, but we’re trying to make it work, so we’ll see.”
“I’m glad.” She smiled warmly. “You deserve it.”
We sat and watched people walk by, we laughed at the ducks in the little pond, and chatted about her family. She seemed happy and content, and I envied her, but in all the right ways. We strolled arm in arm around the water to order lunch from a vendor.
“I have to ask,” I fingered the paper from my sandwich, “what was it like after I left?”
“Oh,” she made a face, “it was ugly. Andrew was pissed and made everyone’s life even more miserable for a while, but Julie was just happy that there was one less mouth to feed. I do remember there was someone who came by a couple of times to ask about you, but I have no idea what Andrew said to him. Things settled down, and life went on pretty much the same.”
“What about Renzo?”
“He flipped out, although when didn’t he?” She rolled her eyes. “He left about a year after you did, and we didn’t hear from him again until the cops dropped by one night.”
“Oh, Lord, what did he do?”
“He was murdered,” she said through a mouthful of sandwich.
“Oh.” I forced my own bite of sandwich down my dry throat. “What happened?”
“They don’t know, exactly. No one was charged, but he was apparently beaten to death with a pipe.” She shrugged, and my stomach sank again.
“When was this?”
“Umm,” she closed one eye as she thought, “maybe five-ish years ago.”
I tried not to react, but that was right around the time Renzo had found me on the street.
I instantly slipped into a memory of that awful day.
I was huddled against the cold with a piece of cardboard under my bottom for some protection. My jeans had seen better days and were merely a thin layer between me and the outside elements. I was hungry and cold and totally miserable. I sipped some water and forced my brain to believe it was food.
I didn’t know what it was that caused me to look up in his direction. I often wondered who or what was looking out for me in that moment, but I’d have known that walk anywhere. My stomach twisted, and sweat broke out, and all the little hairs on the back of my neck bristled. I was able to take a moment to pull myself together before he reached me and formed a quick plan.
“Sienna!” Renzo barked, curling his fingers into a fist as he grew closer. “You think you can just leave? You think I can’t find you?”
I jumped to my feet, fueled by his words, and lunged toward the trash can where I knew Mad Red kept his weapons for moments just like this.
I held up a pipe and fixed my stance, ready for a fight. I was thankful Mad Red had taught me a few things.
“Oh, that’s cute,” he chuckled down at me. “Nice to know the streets kept you scrappy.”
I kept quiet, again something Red had told me to do. If you spoke, you’d lose your concentration, and that was the key in these situations. You had to be calm and watch for weaknesses and seize any opportunity you could.
“Come on, it’s time to go home.” He reached for my arm, and I swung hard, clipping him in the elbow. He yelped, and I saw his temper flare. “Listen here, you little bitch,” he snarled. “You belong to me! I was willing to look past this minor separation, but now I think I’ll just have to remind you of who’s in charge. Starting with me inside of you…”
I snapped.
Years and years of putting up with his abuse coursed through me, and I saw red.
I let loose and swung at his kneecap and felt a satisfying crunch as he dropped to the ground. I hit an ankle hard to ensure he couldn’t get back up, and then swung again with everything I had right into his stomach. The wind went straight out of him, and he didn’t make a sound.
He lay there curled in a ball as he tried to fight through the pain. I watched and could hear my teen self begging for him to leave me alone.
“I was a child with no family, no friends, and no real life, and you tried to rob me of even that,” I shouted as my grip tightened on the pipe. Tears of hate fell down my cheeks, “I was a helpless kid, and you were nothing but a predator that fed off my fear and helplessness.” He rolled onto his side and laughed like the nut job he was as he clutched his stomach.
“I still am.” He swiped out at my ankle and knocked me off my feet, and I landed hard on my back.
“No!” I screamed. This was my turn, this was my moment to stand up, not just for me but for all those kids who needed a voice, who wanted to take back what was ours. Our freedom.