CHAPTER 2
1617 Words
BRIELLE
Chaos.
That’s the right word.
Words could be such meander things… but chaos comes closest to what life I’ve been living so far.
There’s no getting out of it… only getting through it. And for the most part, I have no choice. I wish I did. I wish there wasn't a choice, a chance to move on from such vain life.
But father, I could never leave him. He’s the reason I’m here in the first place, living such life. And even though he tells me to get away and mean it, I could never.
He’s alone and going through something I have zero clue how he got there in the first place.
However, I don’t care for the details.
Debts are simple things. They can be repaid.
We’ve all but had heavy arguments for the past week… just like we’re doing now.
Mondays mornings are always the same; yells, fights… chaos. A lot of things, but Monday mornings are Monday mornings and fathers are fathers.
“Dad! You can’t keep asking me to return home if you won’t tell me why I should leave when there are tons of work here to do and bills to pay.” I yell back.
He rounds the counter to where I am. His eyes are blazing into mine, “I just wish you’d listen to me for once. There are bills to pay and that’s why I’ve asked you to return home.”
“That makes no sense dad,” I wriggle out of his hold, attempting to escape the tension in his eyes.
“You can still make it if you pass the back door. I’ll handle work for the day.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re old dad. And I’m not a child anymore. I can’t let you do all these yourself. And why do you keep peeping through the door?”
Nothing feels right today.
From the moment I threw my feet out of bed, my stomach churned but I thought it was only the spice from yesterday’s excuse of a dinner.
I’m not the best at cooking, but I try.
“They’re here!” The horror that stands on his face as he announces shocks me and I’m not even sure I want to know what’s caused such a ruckus in him.
“Dad?”
I’ve never seen him so aggravated. He’s scared. Now I’m scared.
“You shouldn’t be here. They were never meant to see you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Brielle run…”
The door swings open, and so does my head in the direction.
Strangers.
I know all father’s customers and everyone he’s owed a debt. I don’t know these men.
One has caught my attention.
They’re all dressed in black suit, but this one looks evidently different. He’s obviously the leader if it’s a cult.
Those sort of thoughts are not dismissible in this city.
Our gazes strike one another and linger for a moment before father’s screech comes in; “Mr. Grayson!” It sounds more like a yelp, “welcome.” His hands are shaking, his voice more rasped than I’ve ever heard as though he’s choking on his own saliva.
“You have such an excellent sales lady.” His deep voice rumbles across the quiet room as he slowly takes one step at a time, scrutinizing our department store.
Frowning, I interrupt his disrespectful scrutiny, “I’m his daughter Mr! Not his sales lady.”
Mr. Good looking bad attitude stops abruptly in his tracks, then returns to the counter.
He looks at me in anticipation for something… I’m not sure what. “Hmm…” he groans, “I wondered the similarity.”
“No…” father jumps in, blocking our new Mr. “I can explain.”
“You can explain why you reported to having no children while I can see a grown ass woman standing right in front of me?” He asks father with his eyes still fixed on mine.
My blood instantly runs cold and I can feel the color run out of my cheeks. I glance over to where my dad stands and he looks like he’s begging for life.
“What the f**k is going on!” I blurt before I can stop myself, taking everyone’s attention.
“Brielle,” father quakes, “nothing is going on okay? You can leave now. I don’t need your assistance here anymore. Mr. Grayson and I have business to discuss.”
“I wasn’t asking you dad. And I want the truth.”
“Why don’t I volunteer in giving the full rundown?” My Grayson strolls over to his buddy, grabbing a gun from his arsenal, “a quick rundown actually.” He c***s the gun. “I’m leaving the store with the sum of five hundred thousand dollars or your father’s life.” Pointing the gun at father’s head, he continues, “now, I’m sure we all know what it’s gonna be.”
My soul leaves my body.
Monday mornings will always be Monday mornings. I thought. This one’s quiet different. Very different actually.
Weird.
My breath is labored. I’m tired but I haven’t done a thing but argue. My hands are quavering with Goosebumps popping out on every inch of my skin.
My throat is tight that my lungs burn from the lack of air.
Monday mornings are not always Monday mornings after all. I can’t look at father, but I can see the gun pointed at his temples.
I want to do something, but what can I do to a man holding a loaded gun.
“Please don’t hurt him.” The words are out before I can think. I’m not exactly sure what to do or say.
“It’s going to be fine Brielle. Okay?”
Drops of tears escape the depths of my pooled eyes as I watch my father almost begging for his life.
“I’m sure we can work something out. Whatever it is, we can find a solution.” I beg, more tears flooding my cheeks now.
“The only solution is dragging a bag of money out of here or a body.”
“Don’t do this! Please!”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t blow his brains out right? They’re not worth five hundred grand for sure!”
I throw back; “because he’s my father you douchebag!”
“Brielle!” Father scolds.
He’s right to scold. I’m not in any position to throw insults unless I want his head on a platter.
“I like your mouth Bri, but time is running out and it’s not looking good for you.”
Something about the way he calls my name makes my skin burn.
“We… we don’t…” I stumble upon my words before I can finally make them out; “we don’t have that amount.” My stomach coils.
“Then I guess I’ll be needing that head.”
“Please,” I cry, drained.
Pushing the tip of the gun into Father temple he utters, “I’m not sure how please measures up to five hundred thousand or his head.”
“But if you kill him you’ll never get your money back.”
“I need something!” He chants.
“Take me!”
I’m shocked at my own words, just like every other person.
“No!” Father screams back. “It’s me you want. Take me instead.”
“You’re just another mouth to feed. You can’t owe me and still be fed by me. I like her idea better.” He throws me a nod.
“Yes!”
“Take the girl!”
“No!” Father yells instantly.
“She’ll be returned when you’ve paid two-fifty grand. Her services will be two-fifty. You know the rules. No questions asked.”
Lies. It gets you nowhere but places you have no idea about.
I stumble backward as the towering figure in the black suit shoves me towards the waiting vehicle outside the store. His grip on my arm is like a vice, bruising relentlessly. My heart drums in my chest, fear shooting through my veins like wildfire.
"Get in," his voice is a low growl, his breath hot against my ear. I swallow hard, my mind racing with questions, but I dare not speak. Instead, I comply, feeling the cold metal of the car against my back as I struggle to regain my balance.
I want to look back at Dad, but that’ll only do more harm than good. For the both of us.
The man's eyes bore into mine, dark and intense. I can feel the weight of his gaze, suffocating me with its intensity.
I want to tell Father one last goodbye as I reinvent the SUV. I don’t know how he must feel seeing me this way.
Maybe I should’ve listened to him and shut my mouth. Hell, maybe I should’ve listened to him from the jump and returned home as he suggested. But he’ll be dead by now.
This is probably the best way this situation could’ve gone. Mr. Grayson was serious about pulling the trigger.
I couldn’t let that happen.
Mr. Grayson joins me at the other side of the back seat and instantly the engine roars to life, propelling us forward.
The interior of the vehicle is dimly lit, casting long shadows that dance across the leather seats.
That’s the least of my concerns right now.
As the car pulls away from the curb, my stomach churns with unease.
I've always thought myself independent, but now I feel utterly powerless, at the mercy of a Mr. Grayson I know nothing about.
- Writer
