by J. D. Mason
Lars waited. Brandon was stalling for time to try to figure out what it was Lars was looking for from him. Something about the way Brandon’s expression changed, though, caught Lars by surprise. It was involuntary but poignant.
“I’ve disappointed you,” Brandon continued. “I don’t need you to tell me that. I know it. I’ve always known it.”
“But that wasn’t my question. Was it?”
His son’s complexion flushed red. He was angry. Good.
“I love you, Dad,” he finally said, swallowing. Brandon met and held Lars’s gaze. “But yes. You have been a disappointment to me. You’ve never been the father I’ve needed.”
“I’ve been the father I believed you needed,” Lars clarified.
“And you’ve been wrong.”
Lars waited patiently for Brandon to elaborate.
“All I ever wanted was for you to accept me as I am.” Brandon swallowed. “To be proud of those things I did well, and not shrug them off because you felt I could’ve done better. You don’t know me, and my guess is, you don’t care to know me. Not really.”
“Oh, I know you, Son,” Lars finally responded. “Everything you are and everything you are not.”
If young Brandon was expecting an apology from Lars, he’d best not hold his breath.
“I’ve never understood your fascination with him,” Brandon continued, trying to mask the hurt in his eyes. “Your hate for him is as obsessive as your admiration for him. It’s unnatural and it’s been stifling growing up under the pressure of it.”
“Shit,” Lars huffed. “If you think it’s been stifling to you, imagine how fucking suffocating it’s been for me.”
“So why hold on to it, Dad? Why hold on to that kind of obsession for over thirty years?”
Lars had never really thought about it before, but it was a valid question. He paused, then flipped back over the pages of his life until he finally reached the only answer that made sense, at least to him.
“Jordan Gatewood left me broke and damn near destitute,” he concluded. “The only thing I had left after he had me escorted out of that building was my loathing for him and my admiration for how he’d pulled the proverbial rug out from under not only me but all of us who’d sworn to not rest until we’d seen him fail. It was masterful, and unexpected from someone so young and inexperienced. He’d outwitted us all, using the seeds of our combined knowledge against us and planting them in his own soil, cultivating them with such patience and care to yield his own fruit.” He laughed. “I’ve never seen anything like it. The man is a genius and I am probably his biggest fan.”
“Daddy.” Lars’s youngest, his daughter, Bianca, entered the room, walked over to him, and planted a sweet kiss on his forehead before sitting down next to Brandon.
She was the most beautiful thing Lars had ever created, with long dark hair like her mother’s had been, and rich brown eyes that he melted in every time he gazed into them.
“The contract is nearly ready,” she said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “And it’s airtight,” she assured them both. “Not even his Gatewood descendants could finagle a way out of this one.” She smiled, and Lars’s heart jumped a bit in his chest.
His beautiful Bianca was a huge point of contention between Lars and his wife. Bianca’s mother was a black woman. The affair had ended years ago, but he’d fallen in love at first sight with his baby girl, and the notion that he wouldn’t give his right arm for her, claim her as his own, love her, was inconceivable and unacceptable.
Bianca was the son he never had. She was never condescending to Lars, never too eager to please in the hopes of getting his approval. She was true blue, unapologetic, and possessed the backbone that Brandon lacked. She’d orchestrated every detail of this situation herself, carefully enough to not offend her brother, but she’d definitely taught him some things that Lars hoped he’d taken to heart. It had been her idea to start having that woman followed not long after she’d shown up at the ball with Gatewood. Being proactive like that was not his son’s strong suit.
“The contract will ruin his name,” Lars said introspectively. “Destroy it, possibly. If anything goes wrong with that pipeline, then the blood will be on his hands as the controlling investor.”
We’ll have it to him no later than three,” Brandon said confidently, offering his only little contribution to this unsavory scheme.
“Gatewood would take most of the risks, but his return, if any, will be almost nonexistent,” she assured them both. “We went through it with a fine-tooth comb.”
“A hundred million dollars”—he chuckled—“well, it won’t leave him broke. But it’ll sting. If nothing else, losing it like this will embarrass the hell out of him. Not to mention, the whole Sioux nation will likely sue the shit out of him for everything else he owns.”
Lars looked at Bianca and smiled.
“Then all that’s left is the woman,” Brandon added, looking sheepishly at his father.
That boy looked sick to his stomach every time the subject of Gatewood’s woman was brought up in conversation. “If I didn’t know better, Son, I’d think you had a thing for Ms. Rhodes,” he teased.
Bianca smiled. “A little bit?” she asked, nudging him gently in the arm.
Of course he looked offended. “She really is innocent in all this.”
“But according to you, she is his soul,” Lars concluded. “And you don’t have to kill a man’s body to end his life.”
“We agreed that it would be painless, Brandon,” Bianca reminded him. “But the point of all of this was to make him suffer. Gatewood could recover his name, his reputation, even his money. But she’s personal. Intimate and sacred. Besides, we can’t afford any loose ends. The people I hired to take her are amateurs. I can’t guarantee how sloppy they’ve been with her, and I don’t want to take the chance that she could somehow identify any of them and lead an investigation back to us.”
“Make the call, Bianca,” Lars said, locking gazes with his son. “Let them know that they won’t see a dime until I see proof that she’s gone.”
“We should at least wait until after the contract is signed,” Brandon insisted.
“He’ll sign it,” Lars said confidently.
Gatewood was in love. On some level Jordan Gatewood and Lars Degan were the same when it came to that. Love was demanding and absolute. True love, that is. Lars loved his wife, but it was more of a convenience than anything. He had loved Bianca’s mother beyond anything rational and reasonable. She’d broken his heart in ways he never thought were possible when she left him. But yes. He’d have done anything to keep her. Breaking Gatewood’s heart would bring Lars more satisfaction than ruining his reputation or business. It would destroy the man. And that’s all he’d ever wanted.
Too Good at Good-byes
NAOMI METHODICALLY FOLLOWED the same morning routine the exact same way she’d done since the kids had started school. She was up at five, making lunches and fixing breakfast. Thomas liked a hot breakfast, usually bacon and eggs, every morning before leaving for work. While the boys dressed and her husband finished his cup of coffee, Naomi went into the bathroom to put on her makeup and then to the bedroom to get dressed for work.
“Y’all quit playing and get dressed,” she heard Thomas tell the boys on the way into the master bedroom.
Thomas stood behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. “I get paid today. Maybe me and you can go out to eat.”
She turned her head, kissed him softly, and smiled. “I’d like that, baby.”
He couldn’t know that she wasn’t going to be here when he came home from work. While she watched him leave, Naomi knew that this would be the last time she would ever see him. She drove the boys to school without mentioning that she’d be picking them up early. Normally, Naomi’s next stop would be to give that woman some food and water, but she didn’t think it was necessary this morning. After all, this was her last day. And besides, she just really couldn�
�t bring herself to look at her again, especially after knowing what James had done to her and knowing what he kept saying he would need to do.
It was almost over and this had been the longest week of her life, but everything that’d happened this week, everything that she’d done, would finally set her free, and so it’d been worth it. She had to keep reminding herself of what was at stake. That woman had suffered, but Naomi had suffered too, probably for longer. Probably worse. She hoped they’d hand her back over to her man, and in time, she’d put James and whatever he’d done to her behind her. Women were strong like that. And that man would be there for her. Of course he loved her, enough to pay God knows how much money to get her back. He’d take care of her. Naomi was sure of it.
She’d finally made up her mind about where she and the boys would go. First, she’d had to make peace with the fact that there were places that they couldn’t go. Naomi couldn’t go to family. Thomas would find her. She couldn’t even tell them where she was, because they’d probably break down and tell him. He was convincing like that, making it seem like she was wrong and he was the victim. She’d figured out a long time ago that he’d missed his calling and should’ve been an actor.
Half a million dollars was so much money. It was more money than most people see in a lifetime. But it wasn’t enough to fly to the moon and to never be seen or heard from again. She was going to have to use that money to pay for new identification documents. You could get them off the Internet easily enough, or even make them yourself, but either way, it was going to cost her. She’d decided on someplace far away from Texas, a place where it snowed because she knew that the boys would love the snow.
Naomi had decided on Wilmington, Delaware. She didn’t know a soul in Delaware, and in her mind it was almost as far away from Texas as the moon was from Earth. Thomas would never think to look for her in a place like that. She could find an affordable place to live, get a job, maybe doing hair. She could do it out of her house so she wouldn’t have to go out so much, and she always liked doing hair. She’d have to get a license first, though. But at least she could afford it.
Sitting in her car outside in the parking lot of her job, Naomi took several deep breaths to try to calm that anxious feeling filling her stomach. What was it going to feel like to be brand-new? To be free? Free to feel her feelings without the threat of her expression being met by Thomas’s fist? Tears flooded her eyes at the thought. It was the simple things that too many people took for granted, things like being able to openly laugh at something funny or to curse because you stubbed your big toe. Little things like that had cost her many nights of sleep.
It was hard not to get her hopes up, but for the first time in a very long time, Naomi did have hope. It felt foreign to her, and precious like she wasn’t entitled to it. And she was afraid of having it snatched from her hands, so she held it close to her heart.
The first thing she’d do after leaving Texas would be to buy another car. Thomas would track this one. She wouldn’t sell this old heap; she’d just leave it somewhere. There were thousands of pieces to the puzzle that was freedom. At any given moment, one would randomly pop into her mind and Naomi would have to look at it, figure out what to do with it, and then wait for the next one to reveal itself.
Naomi had been watching the minutes tick off the clock ever since she’d gotten to work that morning. It was nearly lunchtime before the phone on her desk rang with D.J.’s number appearing on the screen. Her heart thumped so loudly it was a wonder that no one else in the room seemed to hear it. Naomi glanced at the clock on her computer. It was early. Too early. Wasn’t it?
“Crown Distributors. Naomi speaking.”
“We need to get together,” he said in a hushed and hurried tone.
“I’m unable to do that right now,” she said professionally.
Naomi’s heart began racing. Was this it? Did he have her money?
“We can’t wait, Nay. We’ve got to do this now. Just—we’ve got to talk.”
Talk? She didn’t want to fuckin’ talk. All he had to do was tell her when that money had been wired and the two of them never had to say another word to each other.
“I’ll have to call you back,” she said before abruptly hanging up.
Moments later, the phone rang again. It was him.
“Crown Distributors. Naomi speaking.”
“This is serious, gotdammit!” He sounded scared. “We … we’ve got to talk, Nay. I can’t—oh, shit. We need to talk now. You know where.”
This time, he was the one who hung up. And that precious sliver of hope she’d been clinging to slowly began to seep through her fingers.
Naomi went to her coworker. “Eileen. One of my sons forgot his lunch and I need to take him some lunch money. I shouldn’t be very long,” she promised.
“Don’t worry about it, girl.” Eileen smiled. “I got you.”
She couldn’t shake the thought that they’d done all of this for nothing. Naomi drove through town to the burger place in the next county over, weighted down with dread. What would she do if she didn’t get that money? Naomi couldn’t put up with Thomas even one more day. She’d been so close—so fuckin’ close! She had a little money. Maybe it was enough. Maybe it was going to have to be. Fuck going back to work. After this meeting with DJ, Naomi was going straight to the school and taking her boys and leaving this fucking town.
She pulled into the parking lot fifteen minutes later, dried her eyes, and did the best she could to compose herself. She needed that money like she needed blood in her veins. It was the money or her life and the lives of her children.
Lose Yourself
DJ DAMN NEAR JUMPED out of his skin when his phone rang and the word “Unknown” showed up on the screen. He knew it was the woman who’d hired him. It was after breakfast and the kids were getting their shoes on for him to take them to school.
“We’ll see you later, bae,” Nia said, leaving to pick up her mother on her way to the hair salon.
“Bye, baby.”
“Yes,” he answered anxiously after she’d left.
“We’ve come to the end of a long and arduous road,” the woman on the phone said, sounding like she was saying a farewell speech. She’d called right after Nia had left. “It’s been a challenging week for you and your friends, I’m sure.”
He shrugged as if she could see him. “It’s been aiight. But it ends today. Right?”
“Absolutely.” She sounded sexy on the phone, sophisticated and shit.
He sighed, relieved, and cleared his throat. “So what’s next?”
His heart raced. By the end of the day, DJ would have his money. They all would. And with that money came a brand-new life for him and his family. He would finally be the man Nia deserved and the man his children would always look up to.
The woman didn’t answer right away and he was starting to wonder if she’d heard him, or maybe they’d lost the connection. He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at it to see if he still had a signal, then put it back to his ear.
“You still there?”
“I’m here,” she softly responded.
“So the money’ll be in the accounts today, then? Or is it there already?” he asked, hopeful.
A million dollars was about to be his, and DJ was no worse for wear for it. It had been easy. Too damned easy.
“You’ll get it after she’s dead.”
DJ was speechless. That wasn’t their deal. From the very beginning, she’d told him that the woman wouldn’t be harmed in any way. “W-w-wait a minute. You said that wouldn’t have to happen.”
“Daddy,” his son said, “we’re ready.”
DJ got up, went into the bathroom, and shut the door behind him. “That’s what you told me.” Panic began to wash over him. “I wouldn’t have agreed to do this if— You said for us to keep her safe and we did.”
“If the police find out what you’ve done, you’ll get as long a sentence as if you had killed her,” she coolly ex
plained. “Do you think the man paying the ransom won’t use every resource to see that you get the maximum allowed by the law?”
This bitch was fuckin’ threatening him. “Like I wouldn’t take you down, too? Like I wouldn’t tell them that you paid us to do this? If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”
“And who am I?” she softly asked, and paused.
She thought he was stupid. DJ wasn’t dumb. “They can trace your calls from my phone,” he blurted out.
“To who? To where?”
Her number had never shown up on his phone. But DJ was sure that the police had ways of finding shit like that out. He’d seen those crime shows and he knew that they could use cell phone towers to track people.
“Choose carefully, DJ,” she said, almost as if she gave a damn about him. “You can do this, do what I ask, or you can take your chances in court—you and your friends.”
DJ’s heart sank into his stomach.
“The money can be yours just like I promised, by the end of the day, or the police can be knocking on your door in twenty minutes.”
The baby started crying. His son knocked on the door. “Daddy, we’re ready.”
He wasn’t a killer. But if he didn’t do this, all this would be for nothing. Nia would never have her house or new furniture. DJ would never be able to start his own business. And if he went to prison, who would take care of them, then? He never should’ve agreed to this, but James had been right. Deep down, DJ had always known that he probably was.
“Take a photo and send it to the secured e-mail address that will be texted to you. You’ll get your money when I am satisfied that it’s been done, DJ. I’ll need the photo by three o’clock this afternoon and you’ll have your money almost immediately. No later than that. I’ll be waiting.” And just like that, she hung up.
He was in such a fog after that call. DJ managed to get his son to school and dropped his daughter off at day care. Hours passed before he finally called Nay and then James.