THE EAGLE'S DEBT

Midnight transformed the world into something entirely different. Clouds drifted slowly across the moon occasionally plunging the streets into deeper darkness before allowing the silver light to return once more. The air outside felt heavy, the kind of night that made every sound sharper than it should be. The bell above the bar door rang loudly snapping Rose out of her little world.

“Your shift started already.”

Rose forced a smile before putting on her apron. The bar seemed more lively than usual. Voices overlapped, glasses clinked and bodies pressed too close together under the low lights. Her eyes scanned the entire room staring at wasted women throwing themselves at men. The sight of both genders exchanging saliva in the name of kissing made a hard knot tighten in her stomach until she felt nauseous. She looked away quickly, swallowing the discomfort.

“I know that face” Susan pointed out as she passed by. “Don’t forget to put on a smile before you get fired.”

“I’ll try.” Rose forced another smile though it barely reached her eyes. The moment Susan left, Rose’s heart began to race, her palms trembled despite her efforts to remain calm. 

Victor DeLuca’s voice, the terrifying ex she wished to erase from existence filled her head without warning.

“I found him.”

“Who?” Terror gripped her heart and refused to let go.

“The eagle.”

Victor’s smile had transformed immediately when he said those words. The more she stared at him that day the more memories of that cursed night filled her head. 

Even when she yelled “Mom, Dad” only the burning storehouse and the sound of rain responded. Tears had burned behind her eyes as she saw the little version of herself hiding while the rain drenched the floor. The rain and wind had combined into a furious assault, slapping her hard across the face as she watched everything she loved disappear.

“Finish them” the voice on the other end of the phone had said, and the call ended. He dragged both her parents into the store, poured fuel and set it on fire. Rose had watched in horror as fear clawed down her spine like icy fingers and her pulse raced uncontrollably. That night never really left her, It only waited for the right moment to return.

Now she was panting hard against the counter. Ever since her parents’ death, she suffered from panic attacks especially whenever it rained or whenever she came across fire. Each memory felt like a wound reopening beneath the surface. Each time she saw her grown-up self staring at the little girl who had no one to help her, her chest tightened as the present and the past began to blur.

She groaned irritably at two women making out on the counter. The blonde moaned into the other woman’s mouth, then began kissing down her throat toward her breast without any shame. Rose choked on the discomfort rising in her throat.

“Whoa, whoa. This is a counter!!! What can I get you?”

The blonde rolled her eyes before whispering some slutty words under her breath and walked away with the other girl following behind her.

“She’s a bit mean” someone nearby muttered.

“It’s fine” Rose replied quickly. “Two shot of grappa?”

She nodded to herself more than anyone else, poured the drink with slightly unsteady hands and handed it over with a polite smile. As the red-haired girl walked away, Rose stared for a second longer than she should have before face-palming herself in quiet embarrassment.

“God, how can a girl be this hot?” she thought aloud, then immediately regretted saying it.

Victor’s voice returned again but heavier this time.

“Bring him to us and we will give you protection afterwards.”

“He's a very powerful man Rose. And soon you will need me.”

The dreadful event from years ago flashed through her mind once more, her parents screaming, her mother yelling for her to hide while the flames grew higher.

“Go hide, baby. Whatever you see or hear, don't make a sound. We love you.” It had been a goodbye kiss. That realization still hurt more than she ever admitted.

Rose stared at her hands as tears clouded her vision. She tried to stop them from falling but the panic attack came anyway. Ever since that night, the panic and anxiety had never left her. They only waited for a trigger.

“One shot of Moretti, please.” Rose stared at the customer, her vision spinning with her hands trembling harder now.

“Okay… okay.”

She picked up the glass but her breathing became difficult. The edges of her sight darkened and before she knew it, the glass slipped from her fingers and shattered against the floor. The sharp sound cut through the noise of the bar, her coworker Kelvin noticed her state immediately and ordered her to excuse herself.

Rose didn’t argue so she turned and ran into the toilet, locking the door behind her before sliding down the wall. She cried her heart out, sobbing into her palms as the weight of everything pressed down on her at once. 

It was too much for her to take, even the therapy her aunt Martha forced her into had never worked. She remembered the sessions, the books, the soft controlled voices, and the time her therapist slammed a fist against the table making her jerk in fear like a child again.

Then she heard it.

A gunshot

Begging 

A deep Italian accent

The sounds were so close that she got up and quickly wiped her tears with the back of her hand and approached the door on shaky legs. Fear gripped every corner of her heart. Through the narrow gap she saw blood spreading across the floor, the sight alone brought the old memories rushing back with violent force. Another shot was fired and this time the begging stopped completely. 

The man was dead.

Rose tried hard not to make a sound but a small whimper escaped her throat before she could stop it.

“Someone’s here, boss” one of the men said as he raised his gun.

“You know what to do.” the boss said, staring at the body with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Yes boss.”

Through the gap, Rose caught a clearer glimpse of him …unbothered, handsome, dark eyes and expensive tux. He stood over the body like it meant nothing, his perfume lingered even in the toilet cutting through the thick smell of blood. Every time her eyes landed on the red staining the floor, the fear rose again and another soft whimper slipped out of her.

“Gun” the boss ordered the moment he saw her shadow as she tried to tiptoe back into the toilet with her heart racing violently but she was caught halfway. 

His eyes locked on hers with terrifying calm.

“You’re dead” he said quietly. The soft click of the gun filled the small space as panic tightened around her chest so hard she could barely breathe. In that moment, she realized something far worse than the blood on the floor …

The most dangerous man she had ever seen was now looking straight at her and she had nowhere left to run.