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She threw her head back, and out boomed such a big noise that was so totally at odds with her small frame and pixie face, that her laughter almost startled me. Once the shock wore off, I noted that the sound made my already throbbing dick painfully hard. I decided to ignore the fact.
“No offense, but excuse me if I politely decline your offer, on account of the fact that you’re a fucking whack job!” She bellowed these last two words, and the wind rushed them around the near-deserted parking lot.
Chapter 10
Kik
I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t hated hospitals. They’d always been synonymous with heartache. I’d never been to one to celebrate the birth of a baby, so a trip to the hospital was only ever a bad thing in my life, and today wasn’t any different.
As always when I left, I felt like a human punching bag. All the physical and emotional fight had been zapped out of me. It seemed like a phenomenal and almost insurmountable effort just to put one foot in front of the other and walk out to the parking lot. It was only when I did, that I remembered I didn’t have my car.
“Shit shit shit shit shit,” I muttered to myself, my mind racing. How the fuck was I going to get the car back from the country club, and still make it to Rollergirl, and everywhere else I needed to be later that day? Now of all times, I couldn’t afford not to work, even for a minute. The ends weren’t meeting as it was, without me missing gigs to undo a mess that the rich boy had created. I bit my lip, not wanting to cry in public. The fact was I felt like that’s all I ever did—try to hold back the tears that were always so close to spilling over.
“Looking for someone?” The voice over my right shoulder scared me half to death, though it took me a matter of nanoseconds to realize who it was.
“Jesus Christ, if you’re going for the stalker of the year award, you’re definitely in with a strong chance of taking out the gold. What the fuck are you still doing here?”
“Where else would I be? I said I’d take care of the car situation, didn’t I?” He shrugged nonchalantly, as though it was in any way a normal scenario.
“Well, excuse me if I take what a guy who threatens, and pretty-much kidnaps me, says with a grain of salt.”
“Touché. I guess you have a point. But here I am regardless, so let me take you home.”
“Ha! I would rather ride on the back of a griffin all the way to the pit of Hell than go anywhere with you.”
“Hmm... Well, I hear Hell’s nice at this time of year, but I can’t see any griffins around, so I guess you’re stuck with my stalky ass. And newsflash: that ship has already sailed—you went somewhere with me when I brought you here earlier. You’ve done it once, you can do it again. Now where can I take you?”
“I’m glad one of us can see the funny side of this situation. No surprises that it’s you, given that I'm the one whose father is dying of pulmonary edema, and your father’s the one who’s responsible for killing him.”
“What?” He stopped in his tracks, and stood so still, I was pretty sure he wasn’t breathing. Not even a hair twitched on his head.
“Which part did you want me to repeat? The fact that my dad’s lungs are so weakened by emphysema that one has collapsed, again, and if it continues to happen before he gets a transplant—and that’s if he gets one—he’ll die? Or the fact that if he dies, your father by proxy would have murdered him?”
“Whoa, wait. Back the fuck up. You can’t just throw shit around like that, it’s slander, and it could get you sued, big time.” He raised his hands like I was pointing a gun at him, and began backing away from me in the lot.
“Jesus Christ, how dense do you need to be? It’s only slander if it’s untrue. Everything I just said is one hundred percent true, and that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Cavanagh Corp has been knowingly ruining people’s lives for decades, and sweeping it under the rug in the name of growing profits ever since.” Either he was a great actor, or what I was saying really was news to him.
“The level of corruption, and the number of people being bribed, threatened, and/or intimidated for their silence, or co-operation, or to hear no evil, see no evil and speak no evil, is unbelievable. I don’t know what Daddy dearest has been telling you, but I’ve been researching this for a while now, and I know for certain that however you look at it, your father has blood on his hands.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” From the look on his face I could tell he genuinely believed that statement.
“No, stupid, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Ever heard of chritonium?” He blanched, but said nothing.
“I’ll take that as a yes. If you don’t believe me, go ask your dad about Cavanagh Corp’s use of it, even after they were aware of the health risks. Their negligence has ensured that my otherwise-healthy young father is dying a slow and painful death. Led by your father, the company has been trying to cover this fact up, in order to avoid paying us, and all the other families who’ve been affected in the same way.” He continued to look thoughtful, his eyebrows knotted together in concentration.
“Most of the others have gone away quietly, taking their bribes, or buckled under the intimidation tactics. My dad never made waves, never raised his head above water, so they didn’t even think to pay him off, or run him off. He never signed anything, and he’s been silent all these years, and that’s the way he intends to be until the bitter end.” The tears fell freely, and as much as I hated crying in front of him, I didn’t even bother to wipe them away.
“But I’m not going down like that. My dad raised me to be tough, and resilient and not take any shit, and he did a fucking good job. What has happened to him because of your family will kill him, that’s a given. Now is just a matter of when, not if. But I swear to God, I’ll make your father and the other fat cats at Cavanagh Corp pay, even if it’s the last thing I do.”
Time seemed to stand still for a moment before Drew started pacing the length of his truck, clenching and unclenching his hands. He looked as angry as I’d ever seen anybody in my life, and I feared what he was going to do with his giant fists. In the end he settled for smashing one down on the hood of his truck, causing a large and unsightly dent to appear.
All I could think of was how much it was going to cost to repair, and what I could do with that kind of money. Basic things like paying rent, and feeding myself and my dad. Such a fucking waste. But then I guessed that when a person had access to the kind of money and resources that he did, a couple of thousand dollars to replace the hood of your top-of-the-line SUV was water off a duck’s back. I winced regardless, a little out of fear, and a little out of irritation at the waste.
“Get in the car.”
“We’re going around in circles. I already said I’m not going anywhere with you. It’s not like at the country club where I had no other options, I can get the subway home from here, no problem.”
“Not gonna happen. And it is not negotiable. Get into the car or I’ll call the fucking police right now, and tell them about your little fraud situation.”
