I smiled back and headed to the back where my father’s office was located. I could see as I walked the long hallway that his door was closed. That usually meant he was very busy working on a new deal to make more money or that he was stressed out about something with his business. I was hoping for all of our sakes he was behind closed doors brokering a new deal for more money.
I stood in front of his door for a few minutes before I got up the courage to turn the doorknob.
C’mon, Megan, don’t get shook now. You got a job to do,
I pep talked myself. Finally I twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open.
My father was sitting at his desk leaning over a stack of papers. “Yvette, I am not taking any calls and I don’t want any lunch,” my father said dryly, without looking up. He thought I was Ms. Everett.
I swallowed hard. My bottom lip was trembling. I was paralyzed with fear for a few minutes.
“Close the door behind you,” he barked out, still not looking up.
“Hi, Daddy,” I said in an almost inaudible whisper. My father looked up. He pulled his reading glasses off and his face softened. He looked like he wanted to cry. I could tell he was at a loss for words.
“I missed you, Daddy,” I said softly, my voice cracking.
My father stood up slowly. Still he didn’t speak. He rushed over to me with an urgency that made me uneasy. My eyes grew wide. I didn’t know what to expect. My father walked into me with all of his might and grabbed me in the tightest embrace I had ever felt from him in my entire life. He immediately started to sob. I had never in my life heard my father cry. It broke my heart into a million pieces. Doubt about what I was doing started creeping in.
“Oh, Megan, baby girl, I’ve been so worried about you. I thought you would at least call, or come back home by now,” he cried into the top of my head.
I began to cry as well. I held on to my father like I never wanted to let him go. In my head I was telling myself to stay strong. Stay on course with the plan. Remember how he had hurt me.
“Let me look at you,” he said, pulling me away from him. He held me by my shoulders and looked at me closely. “You look like you need to eat. You look tired too. Where have you been? Why haven’t you called me?” My father shot off questions and statements like rapid fire. The worry was evident in the creases of his face. That kind of touched me too. I thought the entire time I was gone he and my mother hadn’t even given me a second thought.
“You cut off my cell phone. I had no way to call you,” I told him.
“No! I would never toss you out and cut off your cell phone. I just wanted to teach you a lesson, Megan. I never meant for you to be away this long,” he said, swiping at a tear in his eye.
It must’ve been my bitch of a mother who had turned off my cell phone then. She probably never wanted me to come back. I guess since I was grown up she could no longer use me as leverage to keep my father around her.
“Sit down. Talk to me. Are you ready to get some help? You know, go to that rehab place and start your life right,” my father rambled.
I guess he didn’t know what else to say to me. Especially since it was glaringly obvious that I was on drugs now. But still, something about his questions sent a searing hot flash through my chest. He was still on that rehab bullshit. I had just returned and he was talking some shit. You would think he would ask me if I needed some fucking money or a hot meal or maybe a place to sleep. My feelings of guilt were quickly replaced with anger. I felt a new wind beneath my wings to go through with my plan.
“Yes, Daddy. That is why I’m here. I am ready to do what it takes to get back in your good graces. I want to be your baby girl again,” I said deceptively, using a babylike voice that I knew would tug at his heart strings. I deserved an academy award for this performance for sure.
“Oh, baby. I am so glad. We can call Dr. Klusky right now and get you into a place. I will take care of all of your needs ... anything you want. No expense is too much for me to see you get well again,” my father said. He was getting ready to reach for the phone.
“Wait!” I belted out nervously. I couldn’t afford for him to speak with Dr. Klusky right now. It would just fuck everything up. “Daddy, before I go to rehab or do any of that, I want to go out with you. To lunch ... Just me and you, alone to talk about things. I want to drive you to this place that I like near the beach. You know, a father and daughter sit-down. We finally need to just sit down and talk things through this time. It has been a while. I don’t want to come back and then leave right away without first spending some time alone with you,” I lied. I was laying it on thick.
My father’s eyes were sad and I knew he was buying it. He swiped away another tear.
Enough already with the crocodile tears,
I said to myself. I was starting to feel angry again. It was like the feelings came in waves.
“Anything you want, Megan. I will do anything that you want,” he replied, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. I cracked a phony smile and gently pulled my hand away from him. I was uncomfortable now.
“Can we go now? If you can’t, I understand. I know you’re always busy. I can just come back another time when you have time,” I said manipulatively. I knew he wasn’t going to chance me walking out the door again and not returning.
“No! I always have time for you,” my father protested. He picked up his central telephone line. “Yvette, hold all of my calls for the rest of the day. If Priscilla calls, just tell her I stepped out to a business meeting. You don’t need to mention that Megan was here just yet. I want to tell her face to face,” my father instructed. He wouldn’t take his eyes off me. He looked like he somehow didn’t trust that I was really there or that I would really stay and not bolt out the door.
I cracked a halfhearted smile at him. This shit was getting unbearable now, all of the phony love antics. I wanted to hurry up and get this over with. I could feel that my high was wearing off and my nerves were starting to take over me. I needed to get my father to hurry up. He finally hung up the telephone after giving Ms. Everett more instructions.
“You ready, baby girl? I am all yours for the day. No business calls, no Priscilla, no nothing, just me and my baby girl ... the love of my life,” my father said, placing his arm around my shoulder.
“Yes, Daddy. I am as ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied with more fake-ass cheesy smiles.
We walked out of his office arm in arm. My father started heading for the front door. I stopped walking and pulled him a little bit.
“Oh, wait, Daddy. I parked at the back of the building. I didn’t want Ms. E to see my car and alert you. I wanted to surprise you,” I lied some more.
“How sweet of you, Megan. Okay, let’s go through the back door to your car. I finally get to ride and let my baby girl drive me around,” he said, smiling proudly.
I just fell silent. We got to the back door and my legs started to feel weak. I didn’t know if I could go through with the plan. Something deep inside me wanted to tell my father to stay in the building and save me from Eric. But the nagging yearning for meth that I was experiencing propelled me forward and gave me incentive to go through with my plan. Besides, I had assurances from Eric that nothing would happen to my father. We would just put a blindfold on him, request the money, pick it up, and then release him safe and sound.
My father yanked on the door and we stepped out into the sun. There was a black van blocking my car in. My father immediately noticed. He crumpled his face into a mean mug. “Who the hell is this parked back here on my private property?” my father complained.
“I know ... they have me blocked in,” I replied, feigning annoyance.
My father let my arm go and walked over to the van to investigate. He lifted his balled up fist to knock on the side of the black van, but before he could hit the van’s sliding door, the door slid open real fast. My father jumped, and from where I stood, so did I.
The rest of the shit happened so damn fast it felt like I blinked and my father had disappeared into thin air. When the doors flew open someone placed a black bag over his head and they grabbed him and dragged him into the back of the van. I had heard a short attempt at a scream come from his mouth but nothing after that. I was biting down into my bottom lip so hard I had drawn blood.
The track phone rang in my pocket. I was snapped out of my trance. I grabbed the phone with shaking hands and placed it up to my ear.
“What the fuck you standing there looking stupid for? Get your ass in your car and drive to the spot I told you to go to ... now!” Eric screamed in my ear.
The next thing I heard was a gunshot blast coming from inside the office. I jumped so hard a little bit of piss escaped from my bladder. That’s when I saw one of Eric’s little henchmen running out of the back door to another car. He was holding the surveillance videotape. I cupped my hand over my mouth. There was only one other person inside the office.
“Oh no!” I mumbled under my hand. They had killed Ms. Everett because she would be a witness. “Oh my God,” I cried, and closed my eyes. My legs felt like they were made of lead. Eric did not tell me that he was going to kill Ms. Everett, or anyone for that matter.
I slowly got into my car. Once I was in the driver’s seat, the reality of what I had just done hit me like a ton of bricks. I slammed my hands on the steering wheel. “Fuck! Why? I am so fucked up!” I screamed at myself. I had betrayed my own father and now an innocent woman was dead all because of me. And for what? For the likes of Eric Chambers, ex-convict, selfish, male, gold-digging piece of shit. I punched the steering wheel again. Then I put my head down on it and sobbed. The van had long since pulled off. I had just turned my father over to wolves. I had just become an accessory to murder as well. Any way this whole thing turned out, I would be guilty of something.
I finally put my car into drive and headed to the planned rendezvous spot. I prayed all the way there that God would forgive me for this, and most of all that my father would make it out of this shit alive and well. Even if they took my life in exchange for his.
7
My Worst Mistake
W
hen I walked into the warehouse that Eric had chosen to hold my father in, I felt cold all over my body. I saw that they still had the bag over his head, secured around his neck with thick, silver duct tape. They also had his hands tied together in front of him and his ankles bound with the same type of tape. He lay on his side on the floor. He was shivering like he was either cold or very afraid. That shit broke my heart. My father was mumbling through the bag but I couldn’t understand him. The sight of him bound up like an animal made me sick to my stomach, but I took comfort in the fact that he wasn’t injured. I knew this was going to be over very soon.
When Eric noticed me standing in the room, he rushed over to me and grabbed me roughly by the arm. I was numb and emotionless at that point. I didn’t even flinch or say ouch, I just let him wrangle me up like I was his child.
“What the fuck took you so long to get here?” Eric whispered harshly.
I wrestled my arm away from him and rolled my eyes. He had some fucking nerve questioning me. “You didn’t say anything about murdering the assistant. You promised me nobody would get hurt,” I gritted, standing up to Eric. I had my face drawn into a frown just like he did. I wanted him to see my dissatisfaction with his bullshit.
Eric pushed me backward out of the room where they were holding my father. He grabbed my face and squeezed it. “Now you listen to me, rich girl. Either you go along with this and save your father’s life, or you watch him suffer and maybe die if I don’t get what I want,” he said through clenched teeth. “Now get on that fucking phone and call the people you need to call. If not, neither one of y’all will make it the fuck out of here alive,” he continued, fire flashing in his eyes.
I followed Eric to a small room that had a little black device on a table with a telephone. “Use this to disguise your voice,” he said, tossing the little speaker-looking device over to me.
My hands were trembling so bad I could barely figure out how to use the damn thing. It baffled me where Eric got all of this shit from—a warehouse type place, a voice disguiser. It was immediately apparent to me that he was working with somebody obviously more powerful than himself.
Finally, I connected the device to the phone and dialed my mother’s cell phone number. When she picked up, I could hear distress in her voice. She must’ve known about my father’s kidnapping and maybe even about Ms. Everett’s senseless murder by then. “Hello,” she said on the other end of the phone.
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I wanted to curse her, tell her this was all her fault for what she had convinced my father to do to me. I wanted to just let loose on her, but I couldn’t speak. I was completely at a loss for words, because I knew I had made the worst mistake ever.
“Hello!” my mother yelled again, this time with more urgency in her tone.
Eric snatched the phone from me and glared at me evilly. He pushed me aside forcefully. I guess I was of no use to him or anyone else for that matter. I was a useless piece of shit just like Eric had been telling me for the past couple of weeks. I put my head down on the table. I felt like I wanted to die.
“Hello, rich bitch,” Eric snarled. I could hear my mother screaming for Eric to identify himself. “Don’t worry about who this is, bitch. You see that dead black bitch in your husband’s office? Well, take that as a sign of what’s to come. We have your husband, and you and your accountant are the only ones who can save him. We want three million in cash ... no later than tomorrow or he dies,” Eric growled through the voice modulator.
I bolted upright in the chair. I looked at Eric like he was losing his fucking mind. That request wasn’t what we had discussed. I knew better.
When Eric slammed the phone down I started in on him. “I thought we were asking for one million dollars! Three million is too much for them to get up in one day! My father doesn’t keep that much money on hand. That kind of money he would have tied up in assets and investments. His regular bank accounts total up to about one million. That is why I gave you that number, Eric!” I yelled at him. I knew he had already crossed the line. He had not even warned my mother about the police or anything. Eric was botching the whole plan, starting with the stupid murder he had committed for no reason! He wasn’t the smart street-savvy guy I took him to be. In fact, I was now convinced that he was just plain fucking stupid.
“Too fuckin’ bad. Look around. You think I own a warehouse and voice machines? You don’t think I gotta hit these niggahs off with loot for snatching ya pops up? I need money to pay for all of this shit too, Megan! Niggahs are officially on the payroll for this bullshit ... this plan that you came up with. Ain’t no fuckin’ turning back now,” Eric boomed, waggling his finger in my face. It was no use. We were in too deep now. I flopped back down in the chair and just stared at the floor. I couldn’t even think straight.
Ten hours had passed, and we had not gotten a call back from my mother or my father’s accountant. I had shot up twice and the drugs had worked to keep my mind off everything that was happening. Eric was on edge. He was barking orders at people and he kept pacing around. Eric kept me so high that I didn’t think much about the situation. But he was stressing out about it. I could tell he was worried that everything wouldn’t go down as planned. He had made some very powerful people in the streets a promise of a lot of cash for their help with the ransom plot and now he had to deliver or else he knew he would never be able to show his face on the streets again. Things got far worse when one of his cronies brought a small TV to the warehouse. He had contacted Eric and told him that he wanted Eric to see the news. We all huddled around the television. Apparently, the story was out, which didn’t do anything for the palpable tension around the warehouse and surely nothing for my nerves. I was biting my already eaten down fingernails as I listened to the reporter’s words.
“The search for Virginia Beach businessman Gavin Rich continues. Police say Rich’s wife reportedly has not seen or heard from her husband since he left for work this morning. Police found Rich’s longtime administrative assistant, Yvette Everett, dead in Rich’s office with one gunshot wound to the head. Police do not speculate that Rich murdered his assistant, but they are not ruling out the possibility. Police tell us it is too early in the investigation to speculate about motive or whether the murder can be tied to Mr. Rich’s disappearance. The Rich family has not released a statement at this time. We will continue to follow this story.”
None of us said anything for a minute. I couldn’t believe that they were even entertaining the idea that my father might’ve murdered Ms. Everett and disappeared. Why wouldn’t my mother tell the police that she had gotten a call? Did she want my father to look like he had committed a murder and run away? These were all of the thoughts running through my head when they were interrupted by Eric, of course.
“Your mother ain’t so stupid after all, huh, rich girl? She obviously didn’t tell the police about our call.... That’s good. That means we should be getting some money today then, doesn’t it?” He asked his rhetorical question like I had an answer for the shit.
I just looked at him blankly and shrugged my shoulders. We walked together back into the room where they were keeping my father. They had untied his legs to allow him to use the bathroom. But they had put the tape back on his wrists. I was happy to see that at least he was able to sit up. They had removed the bag too, just had a blindfold over his eyes. That also made me feel slightly better.
“Your wife has the opportunity to save you. Maybe you can speed this up. Tell us where she has to get the money from for your ransom and we will relay the message to her, Mr. Rich,” Eric said when we stepped into the room.
“What is it that you want? What happened to my daughter?” my father asked Eric.
Eric let out a loud maniacal laugh. He stepped closer to my father. “Are you worried about your daughter now, Mr. Rich? Is that the same daughter that you threw out of your house?” Eric said sarcastically.
“How do you know about my daughter? Who are you? What do you want?” my father screamed out. He started fidgeting against the duct tape.
“Calm the fuck down! Don’t ask me no more questions! The only thing I want to hear from you is where the fuck the money is!” Eric snapped. He stalked back over to where I was standing.
“Has he been asking for me?” I whispered. I didn’t know why it mattered to me so much. I guess I still wanted to know how much my father loved and cared about me after he had tossed me aside.
“He’s been asking for everybody including Jesus Christ. Megan, that niggah don’t care about you. You better remember how he threw your ass out on your ear and didn’t give a fuck whether you had food, clothes, or shelter,” Eric reminded me harshly.
He was right. I still couldn’t get over what my father had done. Although he told me that he was worried sick while I was gone, he never told me what he had done to find me. I knew that my father could’ve afforded a private investigator to find me if he wanted to, but he hadn’t even hired one. I was angry all over again. Eric was real good at reminding me of just why we had come up with this plot to kidnap my father. I was back to believing in Eric. He was right. My father only cared about himself.
“Yo, E, w’sup with the payment and shit? It’s been twenty-four hours now. We ain’t got much longer to be sitting around here. Either they gon’ pay or we gon’ mirk this niggah and his seed,” one of Eric’s hoods said.
“Damn, niggah, slow down. Three million ain’t no little bit of money to gather up. I’ma call the bitch back in a second. Don’t be talkin’ no murder shit. I’m the only niggah sending motherfuckers to push up daisies,” Eric replied. He definitely couldn’t stand anyone questioning or undermining his authority.
“You bastards really think you can strong-arm my family into giving you any money? You’re not smart enough to hold someone for ransom and get away with it. You must be dumber than I gave you credit for,” my father said angrily.
I immediately wished my father would’ve just kept his fucking mouth shut. He must’ve had a fucking death wish.
Just like I suspected, Eric rushed over to him and put his hands around my father’s throat. I could hear my father gagging under Eric’s grip. I knew how powerful Eric’s hands were too.
“Listen, you rich motherfucker. All that fuckin’ money you got, you probably stole it by robbing from the poor anyway. Yeah, Mr. Gavin Rich, I did some research on you. I know how you got Indian immigrants to come to this country and get those loans for gas stations and then you swoop in and steal it right from them. I know all about your shady-ass real estate dealings too. I may be a thug in your eyes, but I’m smarter than you fuckin’ think. You think the police SWAT team is going to swoop down in here and save you? You think so? I bet you I get my hands on your fuckin’ money and I get to fuck the shit out of your wife and daughter,” Eric said cruelly.
I had my hands over my eyes. I hated to see him hurting my father like that. But what Eric was saying surprised me. How did he know so much about my father? My mind was racing with a thousand thoughts.
When Eric released his neck, my father fell to the side, gasping for air. He had hit the floor with a thud that sent a chill through me. Everything was coming apart right before my eyes. I wanted so badly to rush over to my father and help him up. Eric would’ve had my head if I did. This flip-flop of emotions, one minute angry enough to do this to him, the next minute feeling sorry for him and wanting to save him, was killing me. I suddenly had the strongest urge to shoot up. I needed to escape.
“If you hurt him he won’t do us any good. Stop letting your emotions get the best of you,” I said calmly.
Eric was clearly surprised at my words and how they flowed. He was so used to me being the one to lose it every time. Little did he know, I just wanted him to get me some more drugs to survive through this shit.
“Yeah, a’ight, whatever. He gon’ be dead if your mother don’t follow through like she supposed to,” he said, walking away from me.
We placed another call to my mother. Eric didn’t listen to me and he was still demanding three million dollars. He just would not listen to reason and it was apparent that this was going to be a huge mistake.
“I ... I don’t have that much money,” I heard my mother crying into the phone. I looked at Eric with wide eyes, as if to say “I told you so.” I knew she wasn’t lying. If anything she would have about a million at her disposal. My father was not going to let her have access to that much money. He also probably never told her where he had his money tied up. But Eric was not backing down.
“I guess you don’t want your husband to make it out of this alive then. I guess you also want to see your daughter die,” Eric growled. That shit surprised me. Now he had mentioned me, which was definitely not part of our plan. My eyes were as wide as dinner plates.
“My daughter? You have my daughter too? How do I even know my husband is alive? How did you get my daughter? I need to speak to them! Where are they?” my mother asked in a panic. She sounded confused.