Chapter 91: Self-Destruction
Later that evening, April sat at her desk, thinking about Cody breaking the engagement because of Becky. I wonder how Susie felt about that. What about Becky? Does she remember him? She called Becky’s cell. Her call went straight to voice mail.
The message said, “This mailbox is full. Goodbye.”
April glanced at the time on her phone—10:47. Becky was a night owl, used to partying or working late and sleeping all day. She sent Becky a text.
April: I really need to talk to you. I’m coming over.
April changed from her pajamas to jeans and a fleece. She grabbed her keys, her purse, and her sneakers. She crept down the hall in stocking feet. Her brothers were awake, a sliver of light coming from the bottom of their bedroom doors. Thankfully, her parents were asleep. She left the house without incident, slipping on her sneakers on the front stoop. April walked across the lawn to her car.
She drove the short distance to Becky’s house. At least thirty cars were crammed into her driveway, lawn, and along the curb. Music boomed from the house. People were visible through the windows, many with drinks in hand. It was a Thursday night. The neighbors must be pissed. This is over-the-top, even for Becky. In response to the pandemic, there was a ban on indoor gatherings over twenty-five people in Pennsylvania. This has to be more than twenty-five people. She put on her mask, grabbed her hand sanitizer, and exited her car. She walked to the front door, the party volume increasing with each step.
April opened the door and stepped inside. In the dining room, two couples played Beer Pong. One side cheered as the Ping-Pong ball landed in a cup of beer. A group of guys crowded around a keg in the kitchen. April walked down the hall to the living room. A disco ball projected and rotated red, green, and purple dots around the room. Several women were in various stages of undress, gyrating to the rap beat, giving the men lap dances. Cash littered the floor in front of them. More bills were tucked into their G-strings. One woman was between a man’s legs, her head bobbing in his lap, her long hair shielding the deed. April didn’t see Becky, so she went upstairs.
Giggling, moans, and bed squeaks came from the guest bedrooms. April walked to the end of the hall to the master bedroom. Shouting came from Becky’s bedroom.
“Get the fuck out of my room!” Becky shouted.
“You’re a fuckin’ bitch!” a man shouted back.
“I said, get out. Limp-dick douchebag.”
April heard a smack of skin on skin, followed by a yelp, and a crash to the floor. April opened one of the double doors. Becky sat on the carpet, her hand to her cheek, a large shirtless man standing over her. His body was covered in tattoos, an amalgamation of faded purple ink.
April ran to Becky, standing between her cousin and the sneering man. “Leave her alone.”
“What the fuck are you gonna do about it?” the man said.
“My dad’s a police officer.”
He stepped into April’s personal space, towering over her. “I don’t give a fuck.” He spat on the carpet near Becky. “She ain’t worth it.” Then, he pivoted and walked away, snatching his shirt from the floor on the way.
April kneeled next to Becky. “Are you okay?”
Becky wiped the corners of her eyes. “I’m fine.” She stood from the floor, wearing a tight black dress. One side of her face was still scarlet from the slap.
April stood with Becky. “You sure?”
Becky smirked. “Don’t worry, Princess Perfect. I’m not your problem.” She walked to her bedside table. Becky opened the top drawer and removed a glass vial, filled with white powder.
April walked closer, stopping six feet away, and eyeing the cocaine vial. “Why did that guy hit you?”
Becky unscrewed the lid and used her long red pinkie nail to scoop some of the powder. She snorted the cocaine off her fingernail, then placed the vial on the bedside table. Becky turned to April. “He wanted me to do some shit that I didn’t wanna do. These fucking assholes think because I’m a stripper they can do whatever they want to me.”
April stared at her cousin, unblinking. “I’m sorry, Becky.”
She lifted one shoulder. “It is what it is.”
“I was thinking about your money problems.”
“Yeah? You gonna fix that for me?”
“I was thinking you could fix it yourself. I’m sure Grammy would let you live in her basement. You could go to school. Figure out what you want to do. I’m sure everyone would pitch in to help you.” April wrung her hands. “But … I think you’d have to stop taking drugs.”
Becky cackled. “I’m just gonna go to school and become a doctor or a lawyer or some shit?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“You’re living in a fantasy world.”
April held out her hands. “You’ll lose everything. You have to do something.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got a plan.”
April cocked her head. “What plan?”
“It’s none of your business.” Becky sighed. “What the hell are you doing here anyway?”
“Do you remember Cody Price?”
Becky frowned. “Vaguely. He was engaged to my mother, until I supposedly ruined it.”
“He said he was too immature to handle everything that happened to you.”
Becky narrowed her eyes. “You talked to him?”
“Earlier today. I think he might be hiding something. I just wanted to know if you remember anything about him.”
Becky sat on the edge of her bed. “How do you know he’s hiding something?”
April shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a feeling, I guess.”
“Everyone’s hiding something.”
Shrieks and shouts came from downstairs, followed by heavy boots and the sound of people running and being tackled to the ground. The music was cut.
A male voice boomed from downstairs. “Loganville Police! Everyone on the fucking ground. On your stomachs. Arms and hands out, like a starfish.”
Becky’s eyes went wide. She sprang from the bed, grabbing her vile of cocaine from the bedside table.
April stood in shock.
Becky glared at April. “Get out of here.”
April blinked, waking from her stupor. “Where do I go?”
Becky gestured to the windows that overlooked the backyard. “The window.”
April rushed to the windows, while Becky ran to her dresser, fishing through the top drawer, then removing a plastic bag full of pills. April opened a window and gaped at the grass below. Heavy footsteps climbed the steps. Becky ran to the master bathroom. April climbed out the window, her hands shaking. She hung from the window sill, an eight-foot drop below her.
A police officer shouted, “Loganville Police! Stop right there.”
April dropped reflexively. She hit the ground with bent knees and rolled on the grass.
The same police officer stuck his head out the window. “Don’t move! Stop right there!”
April wanted to run, but his commanding voice pinned her in place.
“We ran your plates. We already know who you are. Don’t make this worse.”
April rolled to her back and gazed at the stars. Her eyes welled with tears and slipped down the side of her face. I’m going to prison. My life is over.
Chapter 92: Princess-Not-So-Perfect
Thirteen female partygoers were crammed into the holding cell, with a single stainless-steel toilet in the corner. April sat on a concrete bench next to Becky, wondering what would happen to her, and thinking about how much she had to pee. The other partygoers lounged on the benches too, some already asleep and coming down from their highs.
A deputy approached the cell. “April Gibbs?”
April sprang from her seat. “Yes?”
He beckoned her with his index finger. “Let’s go.”
Becky scowled. “I saw this coming. Princess Perfect with her get out of jail free card.”
A few of the other girls grumbled
.
April gestured back to Becky. “What about my cousin, Becky Murphy?”
The deputy glowered at April. “If I wanted her, I would’ve asked for her. Let’s go.” The deputy opened the cell, and April stepped into the hall. He didn’t bother handcuffing April. As the deputy escorted April away from the cell, she glanced back at her fellow jailbirds. Smudged makeup, too short dresses, and red eyes in the harsh fluorescent lights made them appear battered and used, more like victims than criminals.
The deputy led April beyond the holding cells to a waiting room. April’s parents rushed toward her.
“Thank you, Lucas,” Danny said to the deputy.
The deputy nodded to Danny and left the waiting room.
Michelle grabbed April by the shoulders. “What is going on with you?” April burst into tears. Michelle held her, as she sobbed. When the tears subsided, Michelle said, “Let’s go home.”
Danny opened the door for them, his face like stone. Michelle had her arm around April, as they walked through the parking lot. Danny walked a few paces ahead, his fists clenched. Michelle opened the back door to the minivan. April crawled into the second-row seat and curled into a ball. Danny got into the driver’s side, slamming the door unnecessarily hard. Michelle sat in the passenger’s seat.
Danny started the minivan but didn’t drive. Instead, he turned and glowered at April, his neck vein pulsing. “You’re lucky you’re not going to prison.”
April didn’t acknowledge her father.
“Sit up!”
April flinched. She sat up. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to recognize that you made a stupid decision, and you’re lucky you have a father with connections. Forget about the COVID restriction violation. Your cousin’s going to prison for dealing drugs. Did you know that she had thousands of dollars’ worth of Vicodin?”
“I didn’t know.” April’s voice was whiny.
Michelle touched Danny’s forearm. “Let’s go home. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”
“No.” Danny turned his glare on Michelle. “Do you know how embarrassing this is for me?” Danny turned back to his daughter. “You humiliated me. Do you understand that?”
April crossed her arms over her chest. “You humiliated me. Both of you did.”
Danny pointed at his daughter. “You won’t talk to me or your mother that way. You’re already on thin ice. We’re taking your car away until further notice.”
Michelle touched Danny’s forearm again. “We should talk about this first.”
“No. We’ve been too lenient with her. That’s the problem.” Danny turned back to April. “If you ever do something like this again, I won’t help you.”
April clenched her jaw. “You’re such a hypocrite. You can’t tell me anything anymore. You’re not even my father!”
Her parents were slack-jawed.
Michelle recovered first. “April. That is not true.”
April addressed her mother, her voice trembling. “You were married when I was conceived. Are you a cheater or a liar?”
“That’s enough,” Danny said, red-faced. “You are the most self-centered child on this fucking planet. You have no fucking idea what your mother and I went through for you.”
“Danny, stop,” Michelle said.
Danny kept talking, ignoring his wife. “You’re right. Your mother was still married to that sick pedophile, when we got together. You don’t know the hell that your mother endured, and I, for one, don’t wanna hear another word out of your mouth about it. You have no idea what it was like. By the way, we had a paternity test, when you were born. You’re mine, whether you like it or not.”
April peered out the window, deliberately shunning her father. She thought, I’ll find out for myself.
Chapter 93: Sometimes Lies Are Easier to Live With
A knock came at April’s bedroom door. April lay in her bed under the covers, unresponsive. Another knock came, and then Michelle entered her bedroom.
“I’m going to visit with Grammy. Would you like to come?” Michelle asked.
April shook her head, not making eye contact with her mother.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so to make dinner.”
April didn’t reply.
Michelle stood in the doorway for a few seconds, then she left.
April rolled out of bed, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. She grabbed her phone and tapped her Uber app. She requested the nearest available driver, which was seven minutes away. A faint rumble came from the garage door opener. April went to her window and split the blinds. She watched her mother’s minivan back out on the road and drive away.
April’s Honda Civic was parked along the curb. Her parents had picked it up that morning from Becky’s house, but they had confiscated the keys. A notification came from Uber. The driver accepted the fare and was on his way.
April slipped on her sneakers, grabbed her purse, and left her room. Her brothers were in the basement, lifting weights. Her father was at work. She left the house and sat on the front stoop. Dark clouds gathered from the east. A cool breeze cut through the heat. April checked the weather on her phone. There was a 60 percent chance of thunderstorms but not until late that night.
Four minutes later, a Ford Escape SUV pulled into the driveway, a young man behind the wheel. He pulled up his mask and waved.
April put on her mask, climbed into the back seat, and said, “Hi, I’m April.”
He turned in his seat and replied, “Hi, I’m Gino. You ready?”
April nodded.
Gino appeared to be college age and Italian, with tan skin and dark wavy hair. He drove April a few miles down the road to Rite Aid.
“I’ll be right back,” April said.
Gino smiled under his mask. “I’ll be here.”
April walked into the Rite Aid. Shortly thereafter, she came out carrying a plastic bag with a small box inside.
Gino drove April toward her second destination. April glanced at the time on her phone—4:09. Shit. I’m late. She shoved her bag from Rite Aid into her purse. They drove through downtown Loganville, passing churches and storefronts and bars and restaurants. They left the city limits, driving over a bridge. Jason walked on the bridge sidewalk, going the opposite direction.
“Can you turn around?” April asked. “I need to talk to that man we just passed.”
Gino peered into his rearview mirror, spotting Jason. “I can’t turn around on the middle of a bridge. As soon as I cross, I’ll turn around. We’ll catch him.”
“Thanks.”
Gino turned around at the Sheetz convenience store, just after the bridge. He drove back over the bridge, his foot heavy on the accelerator. As they cleared the bridge, April spotted Jason at the bus stop.
“Can you drop me up here on the sidewalk?” April asked.
“No problem.”
Gino parked along the curb with his hazard lights blinking.
“I’ll just be a minute. Could you wait?”
Gino saluted and said, “You’re the boss.”
April hopped out of the car, her purse over her shoulder, still wearing her surgical mask. She looked both ways and ran across the street to the bus stop. Jason sat on the bus stop bench alone, reading a book. As April neared, he looked up from his book, his eyes wide.
April scowled at Jason, standing six feet away.
Jason slapped his book shut. “This can’t be good.”
“Your victim’s in jail,” April said.
Jason arched his eyebrows.
“Becky was arrested last night.” Her voice quivered. “It’s your fault she turned out this way.”
“I’m sorry about your cousin.”
April glared at Jason. “Are you sorry about molesting her?”
He dropped his gaze and said, “No, but I am sorry that it happened to her.”
April put her hands on her hips. “Tell the truth. You did it, didn’t you?”
He raised his gaze to meet hers. �
�Maybe it’s better if you leave it alone.”
“That’s what everyone’s been saying. But I think everyone’s lying.”
Jason exhaled. “Sometimes lies are easier to live with.”
April reached into her purse and removed the DNA Paternity Test. “I’d like to know the truth.”
Chapter 94: The Test
April sat on her bed cross-legged, stalking Travis’s Instagram page. She scowled at a picture of Travis with his arm around Kyra, the happy couple smiling for the camera. She thought about Becky and the time she texted her when she saw Travis with Kyra. For all her faults, Becky’s always had my back.
Becky’s arraignment had been heartbreaking. Frank and Ruth had paid for the attorney, but they wouldn’t pay for bail, believing that Becky would likely violate her bail by doing drugs. They had reasoned that going to jail might get her clean. An email notification appeared on April’s screen. She sucked in a sharp breath and tapped the notification, taking her to the email.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: August 6, 2020, 11:48 AM
Subject: Paternity DNA Test
DNA TEST REPORT
For Personal Knowledge Only
Case Number: 234969
Name: April Gibbs
Relation: Daughter
Test Number: 234969-1
Date Collected: 7-31-2020
Name: Jason Lewis
Relation: Alleged Father
Test Number: 234969-2
Date Collected: 7-31-2020
April skimmed over the DNA data to the results at the bottom of the email.
The alleged father is not excluded as the biological father of the tested child. Based on testing results obtained from analyses of the DNA loci listed, the probability of paternity is 99.9993%.
Redemption Page 26