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1082 Words
LEVI'S S POINT OF VIEW
The room goes still at my question, as everyone goes rigid, their postures tense like that of a scorpion in the face of danger. Richard, the kid's father, flares up as he clenches his hands again. "I am not paying you a damn fortune, for you to accuse my son of a crime he did not commit. "You are supposed to get this mess under control and make sure he does not go to jail." His father roars beside him, the latter extremely and suspiciously quiet as he rubs his palms nervously.
I simply stare, not saying a word as I give him my death glare, the famous glower sure to leave everyone shaking in their boots before they spill their secrets to me. Anthony avoids my glare, shaking slightly as he licks his lips nervously.
"I will give you twenty seconds, just that, before I walk out of here, leaving you to your fate. There is a reason your father hired me, it is because I am the f*****g best at this. I walk? And every single chance of you escaping this walk out that door with me, leaving you with only one truth: You are going to jail. Once I leave, there is no going back."
His nervous stare confirms my suspicion, and that of the press. He is guilty of this crime.
"I did it," Hw whispers loud enough for only me to catch it, perhaps that was his plan. But I will not have it.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY, ANTHONY?" I yell, startling him as he looks up immediately
"It was me, I did it," He says, louder this time, and the room goes still, as everyone's eyes grow wider immediately, their stares morphing from one of calm to judgment, as their eyes fill with hate and anger.
I would have felt the same if I cared, but this is another job to me.
His father turns to him, his expression that was once one of anger at me, suddenly directed at his son as his clenched fists release
"Excuse me?" He asks, astonishment on his face. In this moment, any other person from the outside looking in would think he acted this way because he cared for his son, or the victim, but I know better; this was another display of anger at his son, for his actions could affect his selfish ambitions.
He lunges at his son immediately, his fists hitting everywhere as he pummels him in, not caring about the fact that they are not the only ones in the room.
The shriek of his mother breaks me from my chain of thought as she barges in, slamming the already open door against the wall, and running towards her husband and son, her hands held out in an attempt to stop the scuffle.
"Please, stop!" She yells, but her husband turns to her, his expression now angrier than the last time, "You know what is at stake! If I lose the upcoming election because of this bastard you gave birth to!" He yells and storms off in a fit of rage.
There it is!
The reason for his volatile reactions, as usual, this was about him and his interests alone.
She pulls her son to her as he lies on the floor, his face a complete mess, as her sobs fill the room. He shrugs her off, a mix of anger and rage on his face, the mirror of his father's own.
"Leave him alone, I still have a few questions for him," I cut her off in the middle of her fawning over him, and she turns to me, her eyes wet with tears as she says, " Must you ask him now? He looks like he is in pain."
"So was the victim, I do not care if he is in a boneless heap on the floor, I will ask him as ma ny questions as I want, you don't like it, you can walk the f**k out of here" Her face becomes stunned as she stares at me agape, her eyes wide in embarrassment.
I am sure no one else has ever spoken to the descendant of Rosaline Peters like that, her great-grandmother was, after all, the great concuine of the then president of America,
Her blonde hair and blue eyes give her the perfect look for a Malibu Barbie, her body parts all fake as she stands, directing her hateful glare to Aurelia as she spits out.
"You, do not stand there. Get him something for the pain," She orders Aurelia, her tone filled with condescension as she glares at her.
"If they were here to serve you in any way, I would have let you know, but like I said earlier, these people are here with me, for me alone. Do not turn to your no-good help. You want somethi ng, get it your damn self" She purses her lips at that, before storming off in an angry haze, her feet stomoing on the floor like a child, as her arms swing to and fro in a tantrum.
Now, back to my eyestion, I turn to him, uncaring about the occasional wincing and hissing in pain, if he could r**e and murder someone, he could as well bear to answer my questions, or I will be addin to his bruises.
"How did it happen?" I ask again
"She made me so mad. I told her to come over to the bathroom, and lifted her skirt, she was playing hard to get; she had been for a while. It was crazy, everyone else gives me what I want, sne she was the stupid charity case my school decided to take in as a reault of their pity for the poor, I am a f*****g king! She should have begged for it like the others do, but she kept saying no...so I just snapped. I swear I did not mean to, but all I could see after a while was blood, so much blood. On her thighs, her head,...everywhere, and I just fled the place. It was later that I heard someone scream that she had been found dead," He says, and I am about to respond when one of my associates walks in, an iPad in his hand as he says frantically.
"The press is on to something, they have some of the students talking about how he is at school. It looks quite messy, sir."
- Writer
