The encounter

Chapter one

LORENA'S POV

A loud thud and an even louder crash sounded above me. Hoarse, threatening voices yelled at maximum volume, their vibrating timbre echoing though the house.

I placed a trembling hand over my mouth and shut my eyes tight. Maybe they would go away if I ignored them or pretended they weren't up there, tearing through our shabby little house. But the noises grew louder.

I squinted and focused my senses to decipher what they were saying, it was difficult to hear through the clanging of metals and breaking of ceramic plates and vases. But with a little more focus, I heard them.

"Where's the money Tanner? Are you taking me for a fool? I gave you more time than you asked for but you still haven't paid what you owe. Bring me the fucking money."

Goodness! It was another one of my father's creditors. How much had he gambled away this time?

It was uncomfortable in my underground room where I'd spent my whole life, all twenty- two years of it. But I couldn't leave. My parents forbade me from coming out, especially with people around. Nobody knew I existed, and even I didn't feel like I existed.

"Please, let him go! You're hurting him." I heard my mother say in a teary voice. I could tell that she was afraid. Those men had to be very dangerous people. What if they killed my father?

The thought consumed my mind and brought goosebumps on my pale, milky skin. It was true that my father was addicted to gambling and never left the tables till he had lost everything, it was also true that he had caused my mum and I a lot of pain, but he was still my father and I couldn't let anything happen to him. But what was I supposed to do?

"That's enough. Bring him to me." Another voice said in an authoritative tone. He was definitely the boss and the others were his henchmen. There was something about the voice that brought back a memory and an image in my mind. It was a face I hadn't forgotten no matter how hard I tried.

"Marcus Tanner. You took a loan from me, said you wanted to start up a business and would pay back within ten months. I gave you a year but I still don't have my money, not even a single penny. It's three million pesos Marcus. Three fucking million! Where's my fucking money?" He finished with a punch on my father's face, followed by a shriek from my mother.

I could hear the sound of his jaw cracking and he spat out blood. I shut my eyes and placed my hands over my ears.

Three million pesos? What on earth did he do with it?

"Please, he'll pay you back, just stop hurting him. He needs to be alive to return your money."

"Well, he has to return it now, or he'll really die here today!" His tormentor replied.

"No..ple.. please-- I'll get the money. I promise--"

"To hell with your filthy promises!" He yelled again and bones cracked where his feet met my father's body.

No! I couldn't stay down here anymore. I had to do something to help. I looked around for anything that could be used as a weapon and my eyes darted to the corner of my bed and landed on a wooden rolling pin.

My mother was a pastry chef and had a little bakery downtown where she sold cakes, pies, bread and croissant. I usually helped her shape and flatten the dough she used. We were in the middle of preparing the batter when the men pulled up at our house and I was sent back into my room immediately.

I grabbed my weapon and headed up the stairs that led to an opening on my roof. Above, was an empty room which served as a storage for all my mother's equipment. I came out as noiselessly as possible and shut the little door.

I crouched, and tiptoed towards the living room where the noises were coming from.

"Please, take whatever you need and hold on to it. We'll pay you back for sure." My mom pleaded.

The men broke into bouts of unrestrained laughter, hitting each other on the shoulder.

What was so funny?

I soon figured out the answer.

As I reached the living room, I recoiled in a corner and took a peek from where I hid. I could see perfectly how empty the living room was. We had nothing except for our worn out chairs and old television. There was nothing of value in the entire house. Even the house itself was a sorry sight. My mother did all she could to make it livable, but it obviously was worth nothing.

"You have nothing of value woman. What on earth can you give me? Look at that." he said with a mocking laugh and pointed to the roof with brown patches from when the rain had pelted down and soaked it through. Termites ate away at the ceiling and most of them had built their houses on the roof.

Of course, Dad never had enough money to fix the roof but would magically have some money to gamble with. I looked at my feet in shame. I couldn't see the men clearly from here, but from what they wore, I could tell they were filthy rich people. The room was covered in their scent, a very expensive scent.

"I have a--a land." My father began.

"We sold it last month Marcus." Mother protested.

"My--my bakery."

No! That was the only source of livelihood we had. We would starve without it. I couldn't let my mother give that away.

"How much does your little baker shop make in a month? That's some scrappy little place. I don't need it." The man replied, his hand reaching Into his pocket.

My eyes widened and my mother let out a gasp.

"No--please--don't do this--" my father pleaded.

He had brought out a gun. A 9mm pistol,and aimed it at my father's head.

"No! Please, don't kill him I beg you! I'll do anything." My mother was on her knees, begging with tears cascading down her cheeks. She crawled towards him and held his leg. "Please don't hurt him. Give us a little more time. We'll pay you "

But he was unfazed and his gaze remained cold. He kicked my mother aside and his finger sought the trigger.

"Stop!" I shouted, springing out of my hiding place and swinging my weapon at the monster's head. He accidentally dropped the gun and blocked the impact of my attack with one hand. With the other, he pushed me towards the wall and pinned my hand above my head.

I was overpowered. He hadn't looked as muscled as he was from a distance. He hit the back of my hand still gripping the rolling pin on the wall, and I instinctively let go. My other hand joined his above me trapping both my hands in his.

Vibrant brown eyes stared Into mine. They held anger, shock and annoyance, but those emotions faded slowly, leaving something that I couldn't read.

And with each passing second, my eyes mirrored his final expression.

It was him!