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do that, boys. I have to dress and shower.”
    One thumbless hand reached through the opening and grabbed the chain. Stella gasped and her eyes widened as he pulled on it hard, once, twice. It all happened so fast and one of the screws popped halfway out of the wall. Pure adrenaline rushed across Stella’s skin and up her spine and she slammed the door on his hand.
    “Fuck!”
    She opened it just enough to slam it again.
    “Awww! Fuck!”
    This time when she opened it, he pulled his hand back just in time. The door slammed closed and she dead bolted it before they could ram a shoulder into it. Which they did.
    “I’m calling the police!” she called out.
    The thumping stopped. “You can’t stay in there forever.”
    “I’m getting my phone!” She moved to the kitchen and unzipped the front pocket of her backpack. She reached inside and pulled out the phone. G.I. Joe’s card came out at the same time and she walked back across the room and put her ear to the door. She didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean that she believed for one second they would leave and never come back. Especially since she’d slammed Lefty Lou’s hand in the door. Twice.
    She was screwed. First by Ricky. Then Joe. Now Lou and Fabian. Men sucked. She’d never known one of them she could depend on. Except maybe Uncle Jorge, but he had ten of his own kids to worry about.
    The cheap shag carpet scratched her feet as she moved to the sliding glass door leading to her balcony and looked out the vertical blinds. The two goons stood in the parking lot talking on their own cell phones. What was she going to do now? How long would she have to wait them out? Ricky’s buddies couldn’t stay out there forever. If they didn’t leave soon, she would have to call the police.
    The card in her palm stuck her finger and she opened her hand. At the moment, she had more pressing concerns than a reunion with Sadie. She looked at the bottom of the card and dialed the ten numbers with her thumb.
    “You reached me,” spoke the deep familiar voice. “Leave a message.”
    “Hello. This is Stella Leon.” Just in case he didn’t remember her she added, “Sadie Hollowell’s sister. Listen, I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be calling to set up a meeting with Sadie anytime soon.” Once again, she looked through the blinds covering the door. “Ricky De Luca, my former boss, isn’t real happy about you punching him in the head and sent his associates over here.” She turned from the blinds. “They’re camped out in my parking lot, but as soon as they leave, I’m going to leave town for a while.” Where she was going, she didn’t know. “So now isn’t a real good time for a family reunion.” She pushed end and set the phone on the kitchen counter.
    She moved into her bedroom and pulled a big duffel from her closet. She’d wait for a few hours. If they were still camped outside after dark, she’d have to call the cops, but she really didn’t want to call the Miami PD. She didn’t want to file a report. They’d ask her questions she didn’t know the answers to; she’d prefer not to make Ricky and his friends any madder than they were already.
    She dumped underwear and bras into the bag. Maybe she’d be gone for a week. Surely that was long enough. She’d stay at a hotel and look for a job. Maybe in Orlando.
    Next, she shoved shorts, tank tops, and two sundresses into the duffel. Makeup and hair products were followed by flip-flops and her iPad loaded up with about a thousand of her favorite songs. Everything from Regina Spektor to Johnny Cash.
    She pulled on a blue ombré halter dress and her Docs. In case she had to run, she needed her good solid shoes. Her hair, she slicked back into a ponytail to keep it out of her face.
    From the kitchen, her phone rang, and she walked into the hallway toward the sound. She didn’t recognize the number coming across but was fairly sure it had to be Ricky. She thought about not