Protected (12 page)

‘Where were we? Oh yeah, so you don’t
support your only child,’ I scoff at that, ‘but you cut off all financial aid,
and leave him to drown in his bills, bills that substantiated his
lifestyle.  Bills that he had no method of ever settling as a newly
qualified hairdresser.  So, he did what he thought was his only option
left.  He began to sell drugs for some insalubrious monsters who promised
to eliminate the credit card bills and prevent the debt collectors from
darkening his doorstep.’  I step forward and point my finger into my
father’s chest.  ‘Here’s a newsflash for you, darlin’,’ I mock, ‘you think
I killed my mum?  Well, you killed your son.  You instigated the
events that led to his death and now they are after me.’ His eyebrows raise and
for a moment his eyes expose his shock.  ‘I lift up my baggy t-shirt and
expose the purple bruise on my rib.

‘What the fuck?’ He turns away.

‘You can turn away from the truth as much
as you like, but it will always come back and bite you in the arse,’ I
scoff.  ‘See this,’ I point to my face and neck.  ‘This is what one
of those thugs did to me, while he sexually violated me, holding a knife to my
throat.’

He appears shaken by this information,
his eyes checking mine for validity. ‘Who did this?’ He gasps.

‘They want the twenty-three grand that
Ollie owed them for drugs,’ I continue, ‘or they will be disposing of me in a
much more inhumane manner, shall we say?’

‘Jesus Christ!’ He holds his head in his
hands.

‘Now, I know that you don’t give a shit
about me, but a heads up?’ I peer directly into his eyes.  ‘Once I’m out
of the picture, they will be knocking on your door until they receive what they
are owed.’  I watch his eyes widen.  ‘Oh, and I will be ensuring that
the police know I came to you for help, if anything happens to me, that will
also be at your hand.’

I turn and put my hand on the handle.
‘Goodbye, Daddy!’ I smile sweetly.

‘Wait!’ I twist to face him, ‘I’ll pay
the money,’ he agrees.  ‘Who do I pay it to?’

My body trembles with relief, which I
somehow manage to conceal.  ‘I don’t exactly have their bank details,’ I
murmur.  ‘They will contact me,’ for a moment I worry about precisely how
they are going to contact me, seeing as Nate has had all my calls tracked and
my mobile phone is inside the glove compartment of my Jeep in Denver?  ‘I
have about fourteen hours before they come for me.’

‘It’ll take me a couple of hours to get
that sort of cash,’ he complains.

‘I am on the midday flight back to
Denver,’ I open the doorknob, ‘I can’t carry that sort of money through
customs. Arrange to have it delivered to me when I land,’ I don’t know if
that’s possible, but I do know that money gives you privileges.  He will
work it out if he gives a damn about his life. ‘Let me know where to meet the
cash.’

‘Wait!’ He calls, as I step into the
crowded foyer. 

‘What?’ I question.

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbles, his eyes
dropping to the floor pathetically.

‘Save it for someone that gives a shit,’
I shake my head in disgust as I walk on strong legs outside the marbled
reception area and onto the hot pavement of the harbour outside.  It's
only then do I permit myself to drop to the nearest bench and sob into my hands.

*******

I head directly for the airport to wash
and change into fresh clothes, brush my teeth and apply enough makeup to
disguise the dark shadows beneath my hazel eyes.  I have another two hours
before my plane leaves, so I sit in a café and sip coffee as I contemplate the
past month.

It has been eventful, emotional and heart
wrenching, but the pinnacle was being able to verbalise my feelings towards my
father, to express how badly his behaviour affected me throughout my life. 
He is too selfish to take on anyone else’s feelings; all he ever thought about
was himself.  Even keeping Oliver and me apart never benefited anyone else
but him. 

I immediately feel as if a weight has
been lifted off of my shoulders.  He may have deserted me, but at least I
knew love of some description within my mother’s family.  It may have been
displaced and bittersweet, but I now understand that Ollie didn’t experience a
fraction of what I did.  Instead, he faced unreasonable expectations and
conditions to our father’s love.

Thinking about it now, I was at an
advantage knowing that our dad never loved me.  Ollie, evidently had to
earn our father’s affection, and when he didn’t quite come up to scratch to
those expectancies, he was cruelly cast aside. 

When confronted with a situation that was
sink or swim, unfortunately, Ollie sank.  I have to be thankful that I had
the strength to swim.

********

I reinsert the battery of my phone as
soon as I reach my vehicle, eager to receive a call from the drug dealers, to
arrange a drop off point and resolve matters. 

My voicemail box is full.  I prepare
to sit and listen to various messages from Nate, wavering from concern to anger,
to frustration.  Ellie also left two messages begging me to contact her,
and lastly Shauna, who was frantic.  Evidently, Nate had called her to see
if she knew where I was heading.  Seeing as she was ignorant to any of the
drama that was unfolding around me, she called to demand I call her as soon as possible,
or she was threatened to come out to Denver.  I roll my eyes as I send her
a text informing her I am fine and will call her tonight, Denver time.

My phone rings from an unidentified
number. 

‘Hello!’ I can hardly breathe.

‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t the whore,’
it’s the motherfucker who had his slimy hands over my body.  I don’t have
the time, or inclination to contemplate how he acquired my number.  My
body trembles, physically, and I have to swallow the bile that has risen in my
throat.

‘I got the money,’ or I will, I
hope. 

‘Good girl,’ he sneers, ‘seems as if you
are the sensible sibling,’ he growls.  ‘Now, I want the money dropped, no
cops, or you know who will be next on my list,’ he reminds me.  ‘An hour
out of Denver, in between Krystal and Marshall, there’s a pit stop,’ he instructs. 
I am scribbling down his directions on the back of my e-ticket.  ‘I’ll
meet you there, in…’

‘No, no meeting me, our last meeting
didn’t go so well for me,’ I remind him, ‘I’ll leave it somewhere for you to
collect.’

‘You aren’t in a position to negotiate
here, bitch,’ he shouts.  ‘You fucking meet me, or you’ll get a visit of a
different kind, you get me?’

‘But I got the money,’ tears fill my eyes
at the realisation this isn’t going to be as easy as I first imagined.

‘Yeah, and you will give me the courtesy
of handing it over,’ his voice is aggressive and totally out of control.

‘You won’t touch me?’ I feel a ball of
concrete settle in my gut.

He laughs, the sound like nails down a
chalkboard, ‘I can’t promise that bitch, I still want to fuck you raw,’ he
admits.

‘No!’ I close my eyes against the vomit
that threatens to escape.

‘Relax you fucking bitch, you’d be so
fucking lucky,’ he growls.  ‘But, you will meet me at six.  Unmarked
cash, don’t even think about pulling one over on me,’ he warns, ‘I have people
in places you wouldn’t believe, don’t even think about fucking double crossing
me. You hear?’

‘I won’t,’ I promise, but he’s already disconnected.

I sit with my head against the steering
wheel while I settle my insides, I need a weapon, just in case.  Anything,
pepper spray, knife, I don’t give a damn as long as it has the potential to incapacitate
the creep long enough for me to make a hasty exit.  His hands are never
going to touch me again.

My father had called while I had been on
the phone, I listen to the voicemail instructing me to meet one of his
colleagues at the car park on the opposite side of the airport to collect the
money.  He provides the make of car, the level, plus the parking bay
number.  There was also another stammered sorry, at the end of the
message.  Was he really that naïve?  He didn’t get it, it was all too
little, too late, and I have not an ounce of sympathy for him.  He made
his bed, now he can lay in it, as far as I am concerned.

I drive over to the described car park,
where true to his word, dad’s colleague sits inside a black SUV.  He
immediately exits the vehicle and climbs into the passenger seat of my Jeep, placing
the holdall behind my seat. 

‘Mr. Parker said to inform you that if
you need anything from him, to let me know,’ he hands me a business card that
has his name and contact details printed. 

‘I won’t,’ I hold it out for him to take
back.  ‘And you are?’

‘Kris McCarron, Miss Parker, security
services,’ he refuses to retrieve the card from my outstretched fingers. ‘Why don’t
you hold onto that, Ma’am,’ he suggests.

‘Because I want nothing from my father,’
I answer, stubbornly.

‘I can understand that, Miss
Parker.  But, your father has insisted I take care of your safety,’ he
elaborates.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ I laugh,
almost hysterically. ‘Thirty-one years of being fatherless, and now he wants to
take care of my safety?’ I gasp. ‘Priceless!’

‘Yes Ma’am,’ his lips tilt, reminding me
of Nate.  An ache pulses within my chest, he will be so mad at me.

‘I will take the card, Kris,’ I
announce.  ‘But, not for my father’s sake, you seem like a genuine guy, you
can report back that I accepted the card, but just so we are clear, I will not
be using it to contact anyone, okay?’

‘Of course,’ he nods.  ‘You have a
good day, Miss Parker,’ he slips out of the vehicle and climbs back into the
SUV. 

I drive out of the airport to my mobile
phone ringing. I let it go to voicemail and refuse to look at the caller ID,
deciding I can face the music once the debt is clear.  It continues to
ring for the duration of the journey to Marshall, where I park up and purchase
some pepper spray and a pen knife for protection.  I’m not sure I could
actually stick a blade into someone’s skin, but it provides me peace of mind in
case of an emergency.  An emergency like that dirty sum bag, or anyone else
come to think of it, laying an unwelcome finger on me.

By the time I arrive at the arranged
meeting point, my stomach is tied up in knots of apprehension.  The car
park is full of patrons visiting the diner along their intended route.  I ensure
the doors of the vehicle are locked in the case he hijacks the car, me and the
money.  I also reverse into the parking space to prevent anyone from
approaching from behind and I sit and wait. 

Without ever seeing him with my eyes before,
I know it’s him when I watch a man drive in the car park in an orange battered
pickup truck, a sure way to stay unnoticed, I think not. 

The guy obviously wasn’t the brightest.
First of all, he ejaculated DNA over my back, placing him at the scene of a
crime.  Then, he meets in a diner to collect drug money with a vehicle
that would be instantly recognisable to almost anyone who saw it.

He parks in a vacant space in front of
me, his face fitting the image I previously imagined of him, perfectly. 
He sneers a grin towards me, his yellow teeth noticeable from even this
distance.  His hair is greasy and shoulder length, and as he steps out of
the pickup truck, I notice the balding of his crown.  My eyes drop to his
fingers, and my body shudders. 

Grabbing the bag, I open the door and
lock it behind me.  I don’t need for him to find an excuse to corner me in
the vehicle. 

‘Get in the car!’ He demands, walking
around the passenger side.

‘No,’ I step out into the open space of
the car park. 

‘I said step inside the car, fucking
bitch!’ The white froth in the corner of his mouth almost makes me vomit. 

I step further into the open space, ‘No!’
He steps towards me I step back.  ‘I have your money there is no further
business between us.’ I announce.

‘I fucking decide if there’s any more
business, you fucking whore.’ He steps forward, and I push the bag into his
grasp.

‘I’m telling you that you take the
money,’ I pull out the pepper spray from my pocket and aim it towards him, ‘or
I spray you with this, and I take the money back with me, you decide.’ I direct
the canister at his face.  

His lip curls, ‘you think you have the
ace card, you fucking cunt.’

I step back as fear grasps me.

‘I’ll take the money, and you will get in
the car with me. Otherwise me and my pals will be back and ruin you.’ He
promises.

‘No!’ I shout, the bubbling of hysteria
rising from the pit of my stomach.

‘I need a little light relief,’ he grins,
and I feel the blood drain from my face. 

‘Step away from her,’ a voice of
authority growls.

The creep turns, the bag of money
clenched tight against his chest with one hand and lifts a knife out of his
back pocket with the other. I turn to see Kris, dad’s security guy, with a gun
pointed at the creep.

‘This is your final warning, step away
from the lady,’ his tone has changed to one of arctic coldness. ‘Sophie, step
behind me, darling,’ he instructs softly, without diverting his gaze from the
creep who is debating his options, his eyes flickering from Kris to me.  I
hide behind Kris, the trembling in my bones increasing at the realisation this
could soon all be over.