Witness Protection

Chapter One - Tony

I stood in front of my fridge, the dull light inside illuminating the complete lack of contents.
I hadn't been shopping in weeks, unable to find the time between work and my studies. Sighing, I closed the door. There was no time like the present. Grabbing my keys and bag off on the kitchen bench, I locked and left my apartment towards the garage below.
The sun had set hours ago, darkness overtaking the streets when I pulled my old blue ford out of underground parking.

Street lamps guided me three blocks from home, a typical Wednesday night in town, quiet, especially so as the light fall of rain began to settle.
My eyes were heavy, my body overtired having been denied sleep over the last 24 hours. All I could think of were my commitments, my future, had I of failed my assessments. I couldn't let my dad down, not after everything he had done for me.

Pulling the car into a narrow parking space in front of the corner store, I pulled my keys from the ignition. I gazed up through my closed window at the sky, spitting rain at a more forceful rate. I groaned and pulled my hairband from my right wrist, twisting my dark hair into a loose low bun. Tugging my cardigan closer to my chest, I exited my car, darting through the puddles collecting on the pavement. Water splashed into my shoes, onto the bottoms of my pants, sticking to my skin.

Pulling open the store door, warmth enveloped me. The small bell above the door sounded my entrance as I shook myself off like an uncomfortable wet dog.

"Good evening Jasmine" Tony greeted me with his thick Spanish accent from behind his counter to the right of me

"Hey Tony" I replied with a small smile

""I haven't seen you in a while, how are your studies going?" He asked politely, sorting through a pile of receipts

I gave a small chuckle, moving towards him "I'm getting there, but it's hard"

"You will get there, you are smart, your dad would be so proud of you.." He trailed off, sorrow filling his expression, his dark eyes dropping slightly

"Thank you Tony" I smiled, picking up a basket "I noticed there were cigarettes left at his headstone the other week, was that.."

Tony's eyes lifted, and so did his moustache with his lips "I thought he might like them"

I nodded my head, chuckling "He would have appreciated it"

"He told me every night he picked them up, 'I have to smoke them out of my bedroom window so my daughter doesn't find out'.." He attempted a deep husky tone like my fathers had been

"I knew for years he had been smoking, but I never said anything to him about it, I knew he needed the outlet, without my judgement" I recalled the memory, the smell that would linger off his clothes and pores each day

Tony smiled, his eyes turning back to his receipts. I took the opportunity to begin my shopping, my limbs feeling heavier by the minute.

Sighing, I turned to the first aisle, quiet music playing above me, soothing my grinding headache. I began to sing along to the dull tune, mumbling when the sound of the bell from the front door sounded again.
As I picked up two green apples, placing them inside my basket, I heard the unmistakable panic of Tony's distinct accent.

My eyebrows pulled together in the middle as I turned, unrecognisable noises erupting from the front counter.
My heart began to pound inside my chest, my ears attempting to understand the frantic voices of numerous men.

At first, I was concerned Tony was having a heart attack, knowing he'd had a history of cardiovascular problems in the past. Slowly I moved out of the aisle, and as I did, I came face to face with the horrific scene unfolding meters from where I stood.