Taking Her

by R. R. Banks

  Honestly, I can't believe I'm here or that I'm doing this. But, it's the only way I see of getting out from under them. The only way I see myself able to live my own life. On my own terms. Without either of them casting a shadow over me, ever again.

  I clear my throat nervously, trying to keep the trembling in my body under control. I can't let them catch a whiff of even the slightest hint of weakness or doubt.

  “I was surprised to get your call, to be quite honest,” my father says.

  Yeah, because you expected me to be under lock and key in Switzerland right now.

  “Why? Did you expect that something was going to happen to me?” I ask.

  “Of course not,” my father says, though a slight tremor in his voice gives him away. “I just know that we didn't leave things on the best of terms.”

  I fold my hands in my lap and stare at my father, doing my best to ignore Bryant altogether. It's not easy. The man has a presence, a heaviness about him. You can feel him coming five minutes before he even enters a room.

  “That's actually what I'm here to talk to you about,” I say.

  “Well, I assume that since you're here,” my father starts, “you've decided to accept Bryant's more than generous proposal.”

  I let out a long, shaking breath. “I've come today to discuss it with you,” I say. “There are a few things I –”

  “This isn't a negotiation, Zoe,” Bryant snaps. “You either agree to my terms, or you don't. And if you don't, we destroy your life. It's that simple.”

  Ignoring him, I concentrate on my father. “I've worked all my life to be a lawyer, Dad,” I say. “I don't want to give it up. I won't let you take it away from me.”

  He shrugs. “Bryant prefers that you be a housewife,” he says. “He wants you to raise his children.”

  “You're lucky I don't force you to give that bastard you're carrying in your belly up for adoption,” he sneers.

  I clear my throat again and feel my heart fall into my stomach as my pulse quickens and my throat runs dry. I open and close my mouth, trying to work up some saliva, but my throat is drier than the Sahara. I wish he hadn't said that. Wish he hadn't mentioned it. I try to gather my wits about me again as quickly as I can though. Try to pull myself together.

  “There has to be some wiggle room here,” I say.

  “There's not,” Bryant snaps.

  “Look, I never wanted to be part of this extortion racket with Connor Grigson to begin with,” I say. “I tried to warn you both off it. Told you I didn't want any part of it. The fact that it's falling apart now isn't on me.”

  “You couldn't secure the settlement we wanted,” my father says. “You had one job – talk him into taking the deal. And you failed.”

  “You knew the case was bogus from the start. You knew it. And yet, you threatened and coerced me into pushing it on Connor anyway,” I say. “How did you expect me to sell him on a fraudulent case? Especially after I told you it was a fraudulent case?”

  “A real lawyer can sell ice to an Eskimo,” Bryant quips. “Clearly, you don't have the chops to do the job. Which is why you're better served by being a housewife. By raising my children.”

  Anger and shame burn through me, and it's all I can do to keep my temper in check. I expected them to say the ugliest, most mean-spirited things to me when I walked through the door. And they are certainly following through on that. It doesn't make it hurt any less though.

  “Not to worry though,” Bryant says. “With the dirt we dug up on him, we're going to be able to pressure him into a settlement this time. And it's not going to be cheap. This one, considering all the trouble he's caused us, is going to cost him. And it's going to cost him a lot.”

  “Bryant is going to spearhead the negotiations this time,” my father says. “I have every confidence he'll do what you failed to do, Zoe – get the job done.”

  I turn to my father and glare at him. “Did you really sell me to Bryant for five-hundred-thousand dollars?” I ask. “To pay off bad gambling debts?”

  His eyes widen slightly, and a touch of color rises in his cheeks. He obviously hadn't expected me to hit him with that. I'm glad I could catch him so flat-footed. He quickly gathers himself though and projects that air of arrogance even harder than before.

  “Stop being so dramatic, Zoe,” my father says. “I secured the future of this firm. I secured your future. You get a good husband. A good home –”

  “You sold me to this creep like I'm a piece of livestock,” I snap, real heat in my voice. “And the future of the firm would have been fine if you hadn't embezzled millions of dollars to pay off your gambling debts.”

  “And you should be down on your knees thanking the both of us,” Bryant yells. “You should be fucking grateful I'll still take you in, considering everything you've put me through.”

  I turn to my father, tears welling in my eyes. “How could you?” I ask. “How could you just sell me like that? How could you embezzle all that money and put yourself in a position where selling me was your only option? How could you forge my name on legal documents implicating me in a case I had nothing to do with and wanted no part of? How could you do this to me? Your own goddamn daughter?”

  “You don't know what you're talking about,” he fires back.

  “Actually, I do,” I say, sniffing and wiping away the tears that had rolled down my cheeks. “I did some research, Dad. You both seem to forget just how good I am at that. After I got suspicious, I started doing some digging. I know you were into Marco Bolla for a million dollars. I know you took that money from the firm – and then racked up a lot more debt to him. I know Bolla threatened to kill you if he didn't get his money back. And I also know that's when you and Bryant hatched this little deal. How long has this been going on, Dad?”

  “Well, it certainly looks like you've done your homework,” Bryant says. “Good for you Zoe. You get a gold star.”

  “With the money we're going to get when Grigson settles, the future of this firm will be rock solid,” my father says.

  “Yeah, I did my homework?” I ask. “Have either of you?”

  They exchange a look and I know they haven't. I just smile and shake my head, overjoyed that I get to blindside them with this little nugget of information.

  “This supposed deadbeat dad story you're going to blackmail him with –”

  “That's such an ugly word,” Bryant says. “We prefer to think of it as voluntarily holding back incriminating, reputation-damaging information. For a fee, of course.”

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Bryant. It’s blackmail. Plain and simple,” I say. “Anyway, that child you're so excited about and are pinning your hopes and dreams on? It’s not his. Besides that, he was just helping out a friend in need when she became pregnant. He supported them till she was able to take care of them both. And he even sent the kid to the best college money could buy.”

  “Where are you getting this information?” my father asks. “Have you been spending time with that asshole again?”

  “Hardly. I haven't seen him in days thanks to you two. I have this information because I'm good at my job,” I snap. “I spoke to the woman myself. Who provided all the bank statements and the letters that had been sent over the years, along with a copy of the birth certificate for the girl. You two would have known that if you'd actually bothered to spend ten minutes and research it yourselves.”

  My father sighs and exchanges a dark look with Bryant. Bryant clears his throat and looks somewhat abashed. Obviously, it had been his job to vet the information and he'd failed to do it. Something that I'm sure, displeases my father greatly.

  “It doesn't matter,” Bryant says. “In a case like this, the details all tend to get lost in the wash anyway. All anybody is going to hear is that Connor Grigson, musician, and respectable businessman, turned away the mother of his child. He's not a stupid man, I'm sure he knows that. And I have a strong hunch he's going to want to make it go away. Probably bad enough to accept th
e proposal I'm going to give him.”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “And how much are you trying to squeeze him for this time?”

  “Fifty-million dollars,” Bryant says without missing a beat. “And not a penny less.”

  I look over at Bryant. “Was it you who sent the two goons over to beat Connor?” I ask. “You almost killed him, you know.”

  He smirks at me. “They almost killed him, but they didn't,” he says. “They were a little too overzealous, I admit. But, that guy is such a snarky, arrogant prick, I really don't blame them. I probably would have gotten a little carried away myself, if I'd been the one doing the beating.”

  “Yes, and I don't condone that sort of behavior,” my father says. “I found out about it after the fact and properly chastised Bryant for it.”

  “Properly chastised him for it,” I say. “Gee, Dad, what are you going to do it if it's me he has beaten next time? Send him to bed without dessert? If he's hiring guys to beat people who upset him, how long is going to be before I'm the one laying in a hospital after being beaten within an inch of my life?”

  Bryant looks away quickly and I see his face coloring. He clears his throat and refuses to meet my eyes.

  “I can assure you, Zoe, that was a one-time indiscretion,” my father says. “He will never do something like that again. Especially to you. He knows there will be serious consequences if he does. Isn't that correct, Bryant?”

  Bryant nods. “That's correct,” he says, his voice strained.

  He glares at me and I don't believe his bullshit for an instant. I don't think Bryant would ever take somebody like Connor straight up in a street fight. He will always hire somebody to take those lumps for him. But, I can most definitely see him laying hands on somebody much smaller than he is. Someone like me, in fact.

  “So,” my father says, “do we have a deal? Are you willing to accept Bryant's terms?”

  “I think I have all I need here,” I say.

  My father cocks his head and looks at me. “What are you talking about?”

  I press my finger to the small, nearly invisible earbud I'm wearing and give him a devilish little smile as I open up my purse and pull out the microphone. As I show it off to him, I see his eyes widen in shock as we hear a commotion on the main floor of the firm. Both Bryant and my father look out the windows of the office and we see several police officers and men in suits marching our way.

  Bryant looks at me, sneering. “You little bitch,” he roars. “You goddamn bitch.”

  He leaps from his seat and I scream as he bears down on me. The door to my father's office bursts open and from the corner of my eye, I see Connor storm in. As Bryant looms over me, his hands closing around my throat, I see Connor deliver a vicious kick to Bryant's ribs. Bryant grunts and stumbles to the side, collapsing in a heap on the ground, a look of absolute agony on his face.

  Getting to my feet quickly, I rush over and wrap my arms around Connor to hold him back. The office is flooded with men and filled with raised voices. I watch as my father, still in a state of stunned disbelief, is hauled to his feet, and has his hands cuffed behind his back. He looks over at me, a look of absolute shock on his face.

  “How could you do this to me, Zoe?” he asks. “To your own father?”

  “You made your own bed,” I reply. “Now, you get to lie in it. Isn't that what you always used to tell me, Dad? We reap what we sow? Well, it's harvest time for you.”

  I watch the cops lead him out, and although there's still a small part of my heart that's breaking as I watch my father being taken away in handcuffs, I feel intense relief to finally be out from under his thumb. To never have to do the shady, unethical things working for him would have required of me.

  Most of all, I'm free. Free of Bryant. Free of an overbearing, selfish father. Free to live my own life. Free to determine my own path forward.

  Free to live a life with Connor – hopefully.

  He disengages himself from me and walks over as the cops get Bryant to his feet, still clutching his ribs, a look of pain etched upon his face. Bryant is being cuffed and is having his rights read to him. Connor stands there staring at him, a lopsided grin on his face.

  “Didn't I tell you I was going to burn this all down?” he asks.

  “You smug Irish prick,” he says. “You really think you've won?”

  “Actually – yeah,” Connor says. “You're the one whose voice they have on tape admitting to a host of different crimes. Not the least of which is paying to have me beaten. I'd say, you're probably going away for a long, long time.”

  “I wish they'd killed you,” Bryant sneers.

  “Yeah, about that...”

  I watch as Connor's body tenses. He reaches back and delivers a powerful punch straight to Bryant's nose. A crack loud enough to be a gunshot fills the room and blood sprays into the air. Unable to put his hands to his nose, blood streams Bryant's face, and his eyes well with tears as a low, wet gurgling sound comes from his throat. Connor steps back and raises his hands. The cops and lawyers in the room all look around at each other, stunned.

  “Sorry, fellas,” Connor says. “I tried to catch him before he slipped on the tile there. I guess I wasn't fast enough.”

  Connor's lawyer friend looks over at him, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and just shakes his head.

  “Get him out of here,” the lawyer says.

  Bryant is howling in outrage as he's being dragged away – though, it's hard to hear what he's actually saying, given that his nose is broken, and his words come out sounding like mush through the blood and tears. Connor turns to the lawyer.

  “Thanks,” he says. “I owe you one.”

  “Hey, we took down some bad guys and protected your interests,” the man says. “Plus, with a takedown of such a prominent figure, the DA is going to owe me one. That's something that could come in handy down the line.”

  The man gives me a smile before walking out of the office, leaving me alone with Connor. He leans back against my father's desk and looks at me, his eyes boring into mine as he probes my soul. Standing there, in the middle of the office, I feel completely exposed. I feel like I’ve been laid totally bare and have nowhere to hide.

  I clear my throat. “So, I don't suppose there's any chance you weren't listening to the wire?”

  “Actually, I was listening,” he says. “And I heard the craziest thing.”

  “Look, Connor, I –”

  “I heard that I'm going to be a dad?”

  He stares at me, eyebrows raised, a look of anger on his face. I can't really blame him for being upset that I concealed it from him. In his place, I would be furious. But, in my defense, there was a lot going on. And I didn't exactly know where things stood with him.

  But, now he knows. The cat's out of the bag and I can't do anything about it. There really is no cover for me anymore. I let out a long breath and nod.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I found out a little bit ago. Somehow, even though we were careful, I wound up pregnant. I'm sure you're pissed.”

  “Damn right I'm pissed,” he says flatly. “You should have told me.”

  “I know. I should have. It's not like I meant to keep it from you though,” I say. “I wanted to tell you. Was going to tell you a bunch of times. Then everything started to happen and – I guess I just never got around to it.”

  My stomach churns and roils, and my body is humming with a nervous energy. I can't look Connor in the eye, and I'm fidgeting with anything and everything I can get my hands on as I do my best to steel my nerves. Trying to prepare for the worst-case scenario, which is that I'll be raising the baby alone. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “I understand if you don't want to be a dad,” I say. “I know it's not something we ever talked about. I'd like it if you wanted to be a part of your child's life, but I understand if you don't. Either way, I'm keeping the baby and I'm going to raise it –”

  A wide smile crosses Connor's face and he s
tarts to laugh. He looks at me, shaking his head, his laughter only growing louder. I put my hands on my hips, glaring at him, not understanding why he's laughing.

  “What?” I finally demand. “What's so damn funny?”

  His hysterics finally subsides, and he wipes away the tears from his eyes. His smile never falters, and his eyes are suddenly filled with love and emotion.

  “I'm only pissed that you didn't tell me sooner, so we could celebrate the news together,” he says. “I hate the fact that you carried this secret around on your own for this long instead of letting me share the burden with you. Instead of letting us be happy about it – together.”

  The way he phrased it strikes me and I look him in the eye. “Celebrate the news?” I ask. “So – you don't see this as a negative?”

  “How could I?” he almost shouts. “I'm going to be a father. With the woman of my dreams. Tell me, how could that ever be a bad thing?”

  “I – I just didn't know how you felt about being a father, then with all this,” I say, still reeling with shock. “I was afraid you –”

  “I'm ecstatic, love,” he says, crossing the room and pulling me into a tight embrace.

  “So, you're really not upset about me being pregnant?” I ask. “You're actually – happy – about it?”

  “Elated, actually,” he replies.

  I lean my head back down on his chest as the tears begin to flow again. This time though, they're tears of joy. Out of so much misery, something beautiful, something amazing – and something that's completely mine – has emerged.

  And I couldn't possibly be more thankful or happy for it.

  Epilogue

  I sit on a chair in my dressing room, strumming my guitar, letting my mind wander as I tune my instrument. It's been a while since I've performed at the Velvet Orchid and it seems like everything in my world has changed. Been turned on its head.