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“Okay, baby.” I turn her to look at me once we’re in her apartment. “Just put some music on and don’t come out, no matter what you hear, okay?”
“What are you going to do?” Her eyes search mine, her hands clinging to my shirt.
“Nothing crazy, don’t worry. Nobody will be getting hurt… Well, they shouldn’t if they do what we say. Either way, once this is all over, I’ll come back and get you. Right now, I’m going to deal with these pieces of shit and take them to Rick where I’ll handle this once and for all. I love you.” I kiss her.
“I love you too. Please be safe.”
“You guys stand out of sight for a minute,” I say, motioning toward the men once Daphne is behind her locked door. I knock on the door, stepping back so that whoever looks out the peephole can see that it’s me.
“What do you want?” Steve opens the door a few inches, his weaselly face just visible. Before he has a chance to realize what’s happening, I rear back my leg and kick the door in as hard as I can, sending him flying across the entryway.
“What the fuck!” Ken comes flying out of his room at the intrusion, his face going white as a shit the second he sees me walking into his apartment. He looks down at Steve, then down the hallway toward an open window.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I say as I step over Steve and walk toward Ken, the four massive men I brought walking in behind me. “I’d have a seat.” I pull out a chair from the rickety kitchen table and motion for him to sit down. He hesitates, then slowly walks over, taking a seat as Steve moans on the floor in agony.
“I didn’t do—”
“I’ll do the talking,” I say, interrupting him. “You know that I know who you are. Looks like things changed pretty drastically for you,” I say, looking around the cramped apartment. “Steve,” I say, looking over my shoulder to where he’s pulling himself up to all fours. “Why don’t you come over here and join us?”
“Fuck you, man. I think you broke my ribs!” One of the men grabs Steve by his collar, dragging him across the floor and tossing him into the other kitchen chair.
“Relax, man!” he screams as he rights himself. “I’ll give you the recording; just don’t fucking hurt me.”
“I’m not interested in the recording, Steve. You know why? Because we both know it’s nothing illegal. You got a recording of me and Daphne talking about money for her babysitting my daughter and telling me she won't take the money from the Bahamas. I don’t give a fuck if the entire world hears the recording. It’s not evidence; it’s nothing.”
“Then why do you care? Why are you here?” Ken finally speaks.
“Why am I here, Ken? Because you and your little pencil-dick buddy here got the woman I love fired for nothing. You traumatized her; your piece of shit brother threatened me, and you all thought you could blackmail me into not doing something about it? Do you have any fucking clue the kind of power and connections I have?”
“They didn’t seem to help you when your wife didn’t want you, when she chose me.” I smile at him. I knew he’d try to get under my skin.
“You’re right. Because she was dying, I wasn’t about to make things worse for her. My priority was keeping her comfortable, making sure our daughter was cared for, trying to find a cure or anything that could keep her alive; meanwhile, you drank yourself into obscurity. You got fired, lost everything because all you cared about was yourself and how Mirabelle made you feel. You didn’t care that she was dying; you cared that she left you. I did my research. I found the texts on her old phone where even after she finally came clean and told you the reason she left was because she was sick, you berated her and made her feel terrible for breaking your heart. You’re not a man, Ken; you’re a disgrace, a void, a waste of human space and now you, your brother, and Steve will pay.”
I stand up, walking out of the apartment as the men grab Steve and Ken, handcuffing them and pushing them out into the hallway toward the elevator.
I pull my car behind the school, the men following behind me with Steve and Ken in their vehicle. I motion for them to wait while I walk inside and head toward Rick’s office.
“Hey, Rick.” I smile, poking my head into his office.
“Hey—Wes,” he says awkwardly as he looks up from his computer. “What can I do for you?”
“Any chance you can come out here for a moment? Just wanted to talk to you really quick.”
“Out in the hallway?” he asks, confused, as he stands up and follows me out of his office.
“Oh, sorry. No, out back. I have your brother and I’m pretty sure you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”
He stops dead in his tracks, his face going red, then white as a sheet. “My brot—you, what do you mean, you have my brother?”
I motion for him to follow me as I make my way toward the exit. “Just back here,” I say as I walk us around the school to the alley where the SUV is parked. As we approach, one of the men exits, opening the back door so he can see his brother with Steve, both handcuffed.
“Oh my God. Ken! What the hell is this?” He turns around to yell at me, but I grab his neck and shove him into the back of the vehicle. I climb in behind him, sitting down on the seat next to him with the other two sitting across from me.
“I’m going to make this as short and sweet as possible, okay? Rick, I think it goes without saying, but I will anyway so there’s no misunderstanding. You’re going to reinstate Miss Flowers as the first-grade teacher here at Crestwood, and then you’re going to issue a public apology to her and all of the parents here, stating that it was a wrongful termination. Then you’re going to resign.” He opens his mouth, but I lift a finger and cut him off. “Ah, I’m giving you the privilege of resigning; otherwise, I could simply tell every parent what you did and who your brother is. Then all three of you are going to disappear from this city. I don’t care how but you have five days. I think that’s plenty of time.”
“Five days? I’m not leaving Chicago,” Rick says defiantly.
“See, I thought you might say that. As for you two”—I point to Steve and Ken—“don’t bother going back to your apartment. In case you didn’t know, I own that building and management is currently in the process of changing the locks and throwing all your shit into the dumpsters. So I guess if you want it, you could go get it out of the trash. Now, Rick, back to your comment about not leaving Chicago. I’m only going to say this once. You will leave and if you don’t, if for some reason you think you can stay here and I won’t find out, you will end up in the back of this vehicle again, only you won’t walk out… In fact, I think it’s safe to say you’ll never walk again. Do I make myself clear?”
