Conflicted (Secrets and Lies)

by Koenig, M. M.

  "So he was there. The magazine is awesome. What happened to make you disappear?" Bri asked. She scowled still bothered about my vanishing act.

  I nervously chewed on my lip. "Derrick gave him some of my work. Harrison wanted the meeting. He asked me to be a source for a huge piece that he has been working on for some time. He thought I was the best fit for it."

  She constricted her eyes. I shifted my gaze away from her out to the boys to confirm that they remained oblivious. "Harrison wants me to secure a job at a company that he believes is linked to major crimes in the city. He's asked me to gather as much inside information as possible."

  Bri slanted her head as her eyes told me to get on with it already.

  "It's F. F. Sweeney & Company," I said and waited for her to go berserk.

  Bri shrieked, "Mia, are you fucking crazy?"

  Her voice raised an octave higher than I was comfortable with. I checked up front to make sure the boys were still fishing while motioning for her to take it down a notch. Thankfully, they weren't any the wiser. Bri lowered her tone but continued to freak out. Her face wavered as her nerves accelerated. She wrung her hands together narrowing her eyes at me.

  "I can't believe you're even thinking about doing this. I may not have grown up there but I know how dangerous it is there if you cross the wrong people," she hissed.

  "Bri, I'm not crazy. After hearing him out, I know he asked me because I grew up there. I also believe that it is how my work comes across. I'm cutthroat with my writing and that makes me a good candidate when you're trying to complete an exposé of a corrupt company. I acquire and present the truth with no reservations about whose feelings may be hurt from it. Rather than finding a source, he's creating one. It's a ballsy move but it could payout...and not just for him."

  Her face remained in absolute disapproval. "What's in it for you?"

  "If I can get what he needs, he's offered me a guaranteed position with the magazine. It's an amazing opportunity," I answered excitedly.

  Bri frowned. "It sounds a lot like bribery for you to do something stupid Mia. Why are you even considering it?"

  I shrugged. "It's giving me the chance I need to get my life back on track. I'd be running a magazine in my twenties. It's unheard of. Besides, what's life without a little risk?"

  Bri glimpsed over her shoulder verifying the boys were still out of earshot then over to me.

  "Mia, you probably don't want to look at it this way but I have to say it. What you're considering is just as bad as what happened to you last year. You're signing up to do damage to people - powerful people. If they figure you that you betrayed them, they won't hesitate to make you pay for it."

  My eyes soaked in the horizon from our spot on the lake. The skyscrapers from downtown had become miniature Lego blocks. I looked to the sky taking in the clearness. It was a breathtaking shade of blue that breathed a wave of calmness in me.

  "I have thought about what you're saying. I would be crossing some serious lines that make me question myself. But you know what Bri...who's to judge me for being a horrible person on taking an offer like this one?"

  She stared impassively at me before she raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath to continue.

  "I'm not above saying it's selfish of me to do something because I get a personal gain from it. I'd be just as selfish to walk away. I'm aware that there is a company out there that may be responsible for crimes affecting an entire city. They will continue to get away with hurting innocent people if someone doesn't stop them. Which side of the coin is worse? Which decision makes me less humane?"

  Her expression turned soft. "I'm not saying I'd look down on you for doing it. I want you to understand that it is morally questionable."

  "I've been thinking about that nonstop. If I take this offer, I'm going to have to deal with all that comes with it. That will include how I look at myself."

  "Is this about Micah?"

  My cheeks reddened as anger erupted through me. "It's not about him. Since you brought him up, it brings me to my other point. I'll admit that there is one thing I keep coming back to. Bad things happen to good people all the time for no reason at all and that's bullshit. Maybe to right a horrible wrong, you have to wrong a few people to make it right for that many more."

  "You're beginning to sound like Dr. Seuss," Bri muttered, massaging her temples.

  "All I'm saying is that this particular situation isn't black and white. It's lying in that gray area that falls between right and wrong making it easy to reason either side of it," I reasoned.

  "I'm throwing in the towel because you're starting to hurt my head. Debating with you when you're in this mode never gets me far. There isn't any reasoning with you," she grumbled.

  I grinned. "Harrison gave me until Monday for an answer."

  Bri examined me carefully. "How do you plan to get a job there? Does he have magical powers that will just place you there?"

  "They're hiring right now. Harrison is confident that my resume and connection to the neighborhood will get me the job. Either that or he isn't telling me something. Who knows? He thinks I'll get it."

  Her face tightened. "It sounds like he could be pulling some strings. Are you really going to do it?"

  "I'm not sure. I wanted you to know that I was considering it. You can't tell anyone," I reiterated. I narrowed my eyes letting her know to keep her lips sealed.

  "I won't. I promised you I wouldn't," she agreed.

  Bri crawled forward cupping her hands forcefully on my cheeks making me focus into her green eyes deep with concern. "Mia, if you do this, promise me that you will walk away if it gets too dangerous. You must keep me informed. I'll go crazy if you don't. It's nerve racking enough when you disappear for a few hours."

  Sharp pain started to spread through me knowing how much that was true when it came to her worrying about me. "If I do take it, I promise I'll keep you in the loop. We don't need you going bat crap crazy," I answered.

  The whole sentence was a jumbled mess because she was squeezing my cheeks so hard.

  Bri giggled. "No, I don't want to steal your crazy bitch title. I love you Mia."

  I leaned towards her pulling her in for a hug. "I love you too Bri. You and the guys are the only family I have."

  We separated and I saw that she had pasted on a supportive smile but her eyes were full of anxiety. I rose to my feet extending my hand to pull her up.

  "Alright, enough with the heavy shit, let's go get drunk with the guys," I suggested.

  She laughed getting up and linking arms with me. While strolling over to our boys, we snickered the whole time. It was always fun finding new things we could pull with them to keep them wrapped around our fingers.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sunday night arrived and I still hadn't made a final decision. With that looming over me, I was tossing and turning in bed. I rolled over on my stomach punching my pillow into submission as if it was the pillow's fault I couldn't sleep. I resorted to finding my phone to listen to a playlist. It helped me sleep if I popped in my headphones allowing the music to quiet the voices in my head. As the lyrics filled my ears, I started to fall asleep.

  The final draft of the paper is ready for the printers. I sent off the file when my cell rings. I let it go to voicemail. My phone beeps so I pick it up to listen to the message. Derrick does nothing to hide the urgency in his voice as he requests me to go downstairs to his office right now. It's strange that he's even here at this hour. I'm the only one that burns the midnight oil around here as is the case tonight with the clock nearing ten.

  I turn off my computer and hit the lights. As I walk down stairs, the paranoia in my body starts to grow. After turning down the last stairwell, I can see Derrick's office with the lights on. Several voices are arguing with each other as I near the door. I can't quite make out what they are disagreeing about but the pit in my stomach leads me to believe I'm about to know in a minute.

  "Derrick?"

  "I know it can't be your work
but you better be prepared to defend yourself. The evidence they have compiled is substantial and they're out for blood," Derrick hisses.

  We enter his office and I'm face to face with the Dean of Students and several members on the board of directors for the university. The color drains from my face. The panic inside of me increases so much that I'm almost shaking. My palms become slick with sweat as an icy chill runs through the rest of my body. I steady my breathing to keep from hyperventilating. It's like watching a horror movie only I'm starring in it rather than observing it.

  The Dean is sitting in Derrick's chair with two board members lining the back wall. Dean Martin motions to the seat in front of him.

  "Ms. Ryan, it took you long enough," he snaps.

  Taken aback by his harsh tone, I stumble into the chair.

  "I'm sorry. I was finishing the paper for tomorrow and missed the first phone attempt from Mr. Smith. May I inquire what this meeting is regarding?"

  His eyes pierce into mine causing me to cower under the wrath behind them.

  "Acting like you have no idea why you're here only makes this matter that much worse for you. I suggest you take this seriously."

  The pit eating away at my stomach starts to rise making me fight the urge to throw up.

  "I'm sorry sir. I don't understand why I'm here," I reply.

  His eyes go from fury to outrage. "Let us enlighten you. It seems that you're planning to print malicious and false content about the university and several members of the board."

  I pale clutching my hands around my stomach hoping that they will help contain the contents that persistently push to make their way to the surface. Derrick stirs in his chair seeing my reaction.

  "Dean, we should discuss this further to determine the IP address those files can be traced back to. It's a public drive for the university that can easily be manipulated."

  He waives a hand in Derrick's direction effectively silencing him. The vein in his forehead looks like it's about to burst with the level of anger he's trying to contain.

  "Derrick, we have done the necessary research and you have pleaded your student's case. We have taken what you said into consideration. Going forward, you will not be stating another word as this is now up to Ms. Ryan to clarify."

  I'm flabbergasted so I finally speak up. "Sir, there's a misunderstanding. I would never print anything malicious about the university or its faculty."

  Dean Martin slams his fists down on the desk so forcefully that Derrick and I jump.

  "Ms. Ryan, we have the hard evidence. When were you planning to print this article?"

  I stare in confusion. He lets out an agitated puff of air as he turns Derrick's monitor around so it's facing me. My jaw drops in disbelief. I'm staring at a file that links to the folder I use for the paper. It's nothing I wrote but the final print layout is reflecting me as the author. My stomach swan dives into the basement as my head begins to spin so fast I think it might roll off. I take a steadying breath to keep my cool. The article is so damaging. It states that the university is receiving money from illegal resources and that various people on the board including the Dean are seeing back end payouts from these sources. The pressure inside my chest coupled with the tears demanding to be set free are close to taking over.

  "Dean Martin, I know this doesn't look good but I didn't write that article. I don't know how it got into my folder. I can assure that it wasn't by me," I whisper.

  "Are you accusing us of lying Ms. Ryan? Are you attempting to state that we fabricated this evidence?" he asks coldly.

  I sink further into my chair. His eyes are full of so much rage that I'm not sure he even hears me when I speak. As far as he's concerned, he has all the tangible proof in the world to nail me to the wall and he's going to do just that.

  "No...No Sir, I..."

  My voice fades off in despair knowing that my pleas won't matter.

  "We've heard enough from you tonight. You can provide no explanation why this is in your folder on a university drive. I'm sure you want us to believe that someone stole your username and manufactured this in your folder. We don't have time for those types of excuses."

  Panicking, I begin to ramble before he can further incriminate me into something else.

  "Sir, you have to believe me when I say I didn't write that piece let alone set it up to print. I'm the editor of the paper. It's my job to make sure that what we present to the university is based off factual research and resources. Someone is setting me up. The computers are accessible to anyone. It's possible that someone watched me login and wrote down my username and password. Tomorrow's layout for the paper is the only document that should be in there."

  Even I can hear the desperation in my voice. I want to scream that what he believes isn't true.

  His finger roughly hits the monitor as he snipes, "Is this or is this not your folder?"

  "Yes, it is but..." I fade off in a defeat.

  My whole body starts to slip into what I assume is the shock that people experience after being in a horrific car accident. He whips the monitor around and keeps his fists clenched.

  "There is no but...you have confirmed it's your folder. You have the access and authority to print an article as damaging as this without anyone being the wiser. This is a direct violation of the university code of conduct," he declares before looking at the rest of the board members.

  He brings his enraged eyes back to me. "We're processing the disciplinary action for these infractions right now. The overwhelming amount of evidence going against the integrity and conduct of the university cannot be ignored. We will not undermine the necessary punishment by giving you a slap on the wrist. Effective immediately, you are hereby expelled from Eckman University. Your academic transcript will reflect this matter with no eligibility to return."

  Derrick lets out a disgusted breath. He clears his throat to argue but the Dean cuts him off with an iced glare. I go numb and the tears start to drip down my face. My body and head shake nonstop. I don't understand how this can be happening to me. I think I hear that I'm no longer a student but my brain is full of fuzz.

  I'm still sitting there when Dean Martin dismisses me, "You're excused Ms. Ryan. Please leave the university premises."

  Somehow, I shuffle towards the door. As I make my way out, immense pain runs through my entire body making my arms and legs feel like a million pounds. My head is so heavy and hazy. The tightness in my chest feels like it is suffocating me from the inside out. I almost clutch both arms around myself to keep from caving into the overwhelming pain but hold back. I won't give these people the satisfaction of having a complete meltdown in front of them. I force my legs to move to get me to my car. As soon as I'm there, I can call the one person that can help me - Micah. I focus my thoughts on Micah to keep moving forward.

  Thinking about him makes me crave to hear his voice. As I approach my car, I dig out my cell to call him. The instant I hear his voice I'll fall to pieces but he'll be there to pick them up. That's all I need right now. I hit his number. It rings a few times before going to his voicemail. Knowing I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown, I climb in my car and speed to our apartment. Maybe he's sleeping and that's why he's not answering. He never ignores my phone calls. I need his soothing voice.

  As I pull up, our apartment is pitch black. I exit my car and go into the building. I unlock the front entrance and head to the elevators. Fortunately, it's empty when I get in and hit twelve. Once the doors shut, I let go to the aching sobs. The elevator makes its way to our floor. I step out in a fog and turn right towards our apartment. I open the door and my world crashes again.

  Our apartment is a mess. There's stuff thrown everywhere. I don't understand. I can't even think. After taking a more careful assessment of my surroundings, I begin to see everything around me more clearly. I'm staring at an apartment of only my belongings. Then it hits me and it feels like a knife twisting sharply to ensure that every part of me shreds to pieces. He's the one that set me up. He's t
he only person that has access to my usernames and passwords.

  I continue surveying the apartment still unable to believe that his stuff is gone. No, maybe this is a robbery. I might be missing some of my own stuff. I'm trying to convince myself that I'm imagining it. This whole night is a nightmare and I'll wake up any minute now. I pinch myself to prove that theory. I'm only welcomed with more pain and it's physical this time.

  I walk in circles like a crazy person. I notice my laptop sitting on the edge of our bed. It's open and exposes what he had gone in there to retrieve. It still doesn't make sense to me but it's clear one way or another that he is involved in what happened to me this evening. Why? My heart and mind beg for answers - for anything - only to hear painful silence.

  The masochist in me carries my legs to the closet. Sure enough, all his clothes are gone. We may have had our fights. We didn't always agree about my passion for journalism but it's nothing that would result in this turn of events. Unwilling to stare at the reality in front of me any longer, I go to the kitchen to find the tequila. I grab a tall glass and fill it to the top. I down it in two gulps.

  The compression in my chest spreads into my entire body. My heart starts to break. It shatters into a million pieces and falls into the universe. I want to cry but I can't. Instead, I find myself struggling to breathe as my grip on reality starts to separate me from the present. My airway tightens and I start to rasp. My brain starts to shut down. Remembering to breathe is becoming an effort of will on my part. I try putting together a solid thought but everything buzzes along with nothing staying long enough to be coherent. I'm bit by bit detaching from my body. Waves of pain go through me like ice and I begin to feel numb.

  I hope to feel something from the alcohol. Even that runs through me without feeling - not even a burn of the throat. I can't comprehend how someone that's supposed to love me could do this to me. He promised to love and protect me forever. I pour another glass and then another and then another until I lose count. The room and reality start to slip from me as my body finally shuts down. I don't feel my knees crash to the floor or slipping into the blackness - welcoming it - wanting to be anywhere but where I am. The last thing I feel is the unbearable pain in my chest. It's pulling me so far down that I don't know if I'll ever see the light of day again. I don't care if I ever do.