It’s been less than an hour, and I’ve already screwed up the story. And ifIscrewed up, Finn and Parker will too, if they haven’t already. This is a fucking disaster. If the cops ever question us about this, we’re screwed.
“If we’re done here, I’m going to—”
“Wait.” He puts his hand up as his eyes go to the TV. “I want to hear this.”
I look at the TV and see the wordssuspected hit-and-runon the screen along with video of an ambulance on a dark road and two EMTs carrying a guy on a stretcher.
“The man was transported to the hospital,” the reporter says, “but as of yet, police haven’t identified him or discovered the reason why he was walking along the road at such a late hour. The police are now investigating what they believe to be a hit-and-run, but as of now they have no suspects. If you have any leads in this case, police are asking that you call their tip line.”
Fuck! They’re looking for us! But there’s no way they’d find us. We were the only people out there.
“He’ll be dead by tomorrow,” my dad casually says as he turns back to me. “I had a roommate in college that got hit by a car. He died the next day.”
“Did they find out who did it?”
“No, and they never found the car. I always wondered if it were me, would I stop or keep going? I’d like to think I’d stop, but the truth is, I probably wouldn’t.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” I ask, although I’m not surprised he’d take off. He doesn’t help people. He only cares about himself. But then what does that say about me? I took off. I left the guy there. He could’ve died, and I left him. Does that mean I’m just like my father?
“There’s too much at stake,” he says. “Turning myself in would end my career. Take away everything I’d work for. My reputation would be destroyed. There’d be no one to run the company. I wouldn’t risk all that just to put my conscious at ease.”
“What if the person died? Would you still not turn yourself in?”
“If he died, I’d definitely keep quiet. That could be considered manslaughter. They’d put me in prison.”
“For how long?”
He eyes me. “Why all the questions?”
I shrug. “I’m just curious. Were you friends with this guy? The one who got hit in college?”
“I wouldn’t call us friends. We’d only been roommates a few weeks and then he was gone. He was hit while walking back from his girlfriend’s dorm. The police looked for months for whoever hit him but didn’t have a single lead. Whoever did it got away with it. Anyway, the reason I came in here was to remind you that tomorrow we’ll leave for the office at nine. I want you dressed and ready to go. No excuses.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday. I’m not going to the office.”
“You are, and you’ll be wearing a suit.”
“Why the hell would I wear a suit? Nobody will be there.”
“I’llbe there, and I don’t want my employees looking like slobs.”
“I’m not your employee,” I say, my jaw tightening. “And I’m not going. I was just there. You said I only had to go there once a week. I didn’t agree to more than that.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion. And it’s not a choice.” He steps up to me, pointing his finger at my face. “You will get up tomorrow morning, put on your suit, and be grateful that you are being given the chance to learn from me. Do you knowhow many young men would like to be in your shoes? To train alongside one of the most successful investors in the country?”
“Then have them go with you tomorrow.” I go around him to my walk-in closet.
“Briggs, you willnotdisrespect me like this!” He storms into the closet and grabs one of the wooden hangers, pointing it at me. “I have had enough of your defiance! Your grandfather would be ashamed of the way you’re acting. One day you’ll be given that company and yet you’re acting like an ungrateful child!”
“I’m not even out of high school, and then I have college. I have plenty of time to learn this shit. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow.”
He raises the wooden hanger and slams it across my face, so hard my head turns, and I stumble back.
“What thefuck?” I hold my hand to my cheek, which is hot and burning and already swelling up.
“You want to disrespect me?” He points the hanger at me. “Disrespect the company your grandfather built? I won’t allow it, and if getting you in line means slapping some sense into you, I will do it.”
In my head, I’m imagining hitting him back, my fist slamming into his smug face and sending him falling to the ground. He’s never been this violent with me. He’s slapped me around before, but only with his hand and never that hard. And he only did it if I pushed him over the edge.
