responded,” I say.
My mouth goes dry.
Mac looks at the screen.
“Okay,” he says. “Take a picture of the plane tickets.”
“Not the money?” I ask.
“No,” Mac says. “The plane tickets will hurt worse.”
My hands are now shaking.
I take a picture of the plane tickets and send them as proof.
“He’s going to ask for a picture of me,” I say.
“He can see you in person,” Les says.
“He’s right,” Mac says. “Text him the spot. One hour.”
I type up the text and send it.
I get a reply.
Jolie, are you okay? Please just tell me you’re safe.
“Don’t answer,” Mac says.
“I wasn’t going to,” I say. “Let’s do this.”
“Fuck yeah, darling,” Taz says.
“You’re sure?” Raf asks. “This is your family.”
“No, it’s not,” I say to Raf. “I don’t even know him. Everything’s been a lie.”
“This is family,” Aric says.
“Okay, we’re not getting fucking mushy here,” Mac says. “We have to finish this.”
Mac points to the door and everyone leaves.
I walk to the bed and grab the bag of money.
When I turn, Mac is standing right there.
He touches my face again.
“I thought we weren’t getting mushy?” I ask.
“I’m not getting mushy, sweetie. I’m just looking at you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve never loved someone the way I love you.”
I can’t believe what I’m about to do.
I stand behind all the guys.
I’m hidden by them.
They’re all so tall, wide, big. Muscles and attitude all around.
I hear the sound of a vehicle and my heart starts to slam inside my chest.
This is happening.
The vehicle stops and a door opens and shuts.
“Where is she?” my father’s voice asks.
“Your daughter or your mistress?” Mac asks.
“Fuck you,” my father says. “I’ll call the police right now.”
“I dare you to,” Mac says. “You know you can’t. I know you can’t.”
“What is this then? You want to threaten me? I can make a phone call right now…”
“You already would have,” Mac says. “I think I got all the answers I need.”
“Where’s my daughter? What did you do to her? Why did you take her?”
“I didn’t take her,” Mac says. “Right, Jolie?”
I walk forward.
Les and Taz break apart.
When I see my father, I want to cry.
But I remember all the secrets. All the lies. Everything he’s done. To me. To my mother. The danger he put us in without us knowing.
And I just walk.
I keep my face straight.
I carry the bag of money.
“Oh, Jolie,” he says. “Oh… god… you’re okay…”
“I’m not okay,” I say. “Neither are you. Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “I can fix everything. Just come with me. That money… I can fix it all.”
I unzip the bag and take out the plane tickets. “What are these?”
“No, no, no, Jolie,” he says. “Don’t do that. That has nothing to do with you.”
“You were having an affair,” I say.
“Yeah, I was… I am… I love your mother very much.”
“But not enough to keep it in your pants,” I say.
“Jolie.”
“You wanted me to go to law school to protect you,” I say. “Right? You were going to have me help you. Everything was made that way. You were using me. You used me…”
It all hits me hard.
He didn’t just use me. He wasted my life. He wasted my time.
I reach down into the bag and take out a couple blocks of money.
“I’m keeping this,” I say.
“Sure,” my father says. “Whatever you want, Jolie. That money is all yours if you want. Okay? It’s all yours. Yeah. You take it. You do something good with it. Just get away from those guys. They aren’t real.”
“And you are?” I ask. “You’re a liar.”
“I am.”
“This money… just tell me the truth about it. Is it really yours?”
“Sort of, Jolie.”
“You owe money,” I say. “Gambling debts.”
“I do,” he says. “I have a problem.”
“The people… the people you work for… they own you, don’t they?”
“Jolie…”
“Tell me the fucking truth!” I scream.
My father lowers his head and sighs. “Okay.” He picks his head up. “Okay. I owe money to a few different people, Jolie. Okay? That’s all. Nothing I can’t handle. So I do some favors here and there. I take care of it.”
“Or you get beat up,” I say. “I saw pictures of you.”
“That was a long time ago,” he says. “I’m better off now. I promise. Just come home, Jolie. We can fix all of this. Your mother is worried sick about you.”
I look at the money.
There’s no way I can take it.
It’s got to be dirty… or fake… or something like that.
I drop the money back into the bag and drop it.
Then I kick it over.
The plane tickets spill