Page 12 of Coerced

“She’s doing as much as she can,” my dad said.

“It’s not enough,” the other voice clipped angrily. “We need to move more, and this pace isn’t working any longer. Alfonso isn’t happy, and he’s losing patience.”

My brows drew together as I attempted to work out what this was about.

My dad’s voice didn’t sound right when he replied, “I know, Vic. I’ll be picking up three more pieces from my daughter today. I’ll talk to her and see what we can do.”

The man I now knew was called Vic didn’t hesitate to respond. “Good. If we can’t get this next shipment distributed in a timely manner, Alfonso is going to want someone to face consequences.”

“I understand,” my dad returned, his voice strained.

“Don’t forget that this is what you signed up for,” Vic declared. “You wanted in, we let you in. Now, it’s on you to hold up your end of the deal.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Dad promised.

Though his words indicated a sense of confidence, his voice was meek. He was terrified, and my stomach trembled as at least half a dozen thoughts moved through my mind.

“I want an update in an hour,” Vic demanded.

“An hour? But I’ve got?—”

“You’ve got one job to do, Melvin. Do it, or face the consequences,” Vic spat.

Not fully understanding the scope of what was going on, but completely aware it wasn’t good, I didn’t think it was wise to be seen. As quickly as I could, I moved away from the door and quietly slipped inside the bathroom. I kept the light off and the door cracked just enough to be able to hear as they walked past.

I waited there for a few beats, and when I thought the coast was clear, I came out of the bathroom and moved toward the front of the store. Once I’d verified that the man named Vic had already left, I walked in my dad’s direction.

We were the only two people left in the store, and if I didn’t say something, it was obvious I would be the only one. Because my dad was panicking as he fumbled with something behind the register. It was a strange sight—Melvin Todd never panicked. But the closer and closer I got, I could see his hands trembling. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and fear was etched into every line on his face.

For a moment, it kept me silent. Seeing him in such a state, I couldn’t find my voice. And that was the moment he looked up and saw me there.

“Aria? Jesus, you scared me,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

I clutched the paintings in my hands and countered, “I think the better question is, what are you doing here? Who was that guy?”

“What?”

“I heard it, Dad. I walked into the store, didn’t find anyone here in the front, and went to the back. Who’s Vic? And Alfonso? What’s going on?”

Dad’s panic turned to something else. The expression on his face was a mix of fear and embarrassment. “Was anyone else in here when you came in?”

“No. I just told you that.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed, worry dripping from every word.

God, I’d never seen him so distraught. “Positive.”

When I said not another word but shot him an expectant look, my dad crumbled. “I’m so sorry, Aria.”

“What did I just walk into? What was that all about?”

He swallowed hard and begged, “You have to promise me you aren’t going to say anything. Not to your mom or your sister. Nobody can know.”

“Know what?”

The silence stretched between us, the tension building. Never, not once in my life, had I ever experienced such unease between us. Whatever was going on, I didn’t doubt I wasn’t going to like it. Whatever it was, my dad had obviously been carrying this on his shoulders for a while.

“Dad, you need to tell me what’s going on,” I demanded.