Page 117 of Fighting the Odds

“You sack of shit, you’re a worthless excuse for a son. You could’ve had that tight little snatch of hers if you had manned up and took it from her. Instead, you danced around her skirt tails.”

I’m out of the chair and across the desk, punching him in the face before anyone can stop me.

Large hands grab my shoulders, pulling me off of the desk and slamming me into the chair.

My father starts screaming but is quickly muffled by tape going back over his mouth.

“Whoa, now that’s some fire there. Maybe the son has some balls after all. Wesley, can I call you that? Doesn’t matter. You see, you walked in on somethin’ you shouldn’t have. Your dad, well, he’s not walkin’ out of here. Tonight he’s takin’ his last breath. The question is, what do we do with you?”

“I don’t care what you do to him. He’s not my father. He’s nothing more than a waste of space, a good-for-nothing piece of shit. But I can give you something else, to make his demise just a little sweeter.”

The older man sits on the edge of the desk and gazes at me.

“What do you have?”

“He has a safe. I know the combination. In it, he has more flash drives. All with names on them. I haven’t looked at them, but I’m sure they’re more of the same as Sierra. I’ve heard conversations as well. He has some sick fucking group where they record sexual encounters and share them.”

The guy looks back at my dad with a smirk. “I think you’re wrong about the boy; he’s been very helpful. And Malcolm, I hate to say it, but he doesn’t seem to care for you at all.”

All the guys in the room start laughing and I’m not sure if I should be scared for myself or join in.

“Open the safe and get me the drives.”

I stand hesitantly from the chair and move behind the desk, opening it up. I just hope my dad was stupid enough to leave them there. He always seemed to think he was above everyone, so I don't see why he wouldn’t think that about the law too.

I spin the dial until the lock clicks and I pull open the door. Reaching inside, I move papers around, looking for the envelope they were in. I don’t see it at first and start to panic.

“What’s the holdup, boy?” the man asks. “I know you weren’t lying to me.”

I take a breath and slow down. Then I see it, tucked under a legal pad, and I pull it out. Holding it in my hand, I can feel the flash drives inside.

“Here you go.” I hand it over and the man opens it, pulling out one of the flash drives.

He holds it in his hand as he steps around the desk. “Move him out of the way.”

Tank pulls the chair with my father in it backward, giving the man room to access my father’s computer. He powers it on and the password screen comes up. He looks over his shoulder at me, eyebrow raised in question.

“I know he changes it.” I think for a minute and it hits me. “Try Lilac.”

The guy chuckles but types it in.

It works.

“Aren’t you a smart one,” he says as he sticks the flash drive in the hole and opens it. A naked, passed out girl shows up on the screen with my dad fucking her. “Bingo.”

He pulls out the drive and places it on my dad’s desk, along with the rest. It’s only then I notice he has gloves on. Looking around the room at the others, I realize they all do.

“Okay, Wesley, this is how it’s going to go. Dear ol’ Dad is having some remorse for what he did and just can’t live with himself.” He reaches out and one of the guys hands him a letter. “Does this look like your dad’s handwriting?”

He holds it out so I can see, but not touch. I take a look and shock hits me. If my dad didn’t write this, then someone is an amazing forger. “Yeah, spot on.”

“Good. Well, that’s his suicide letter. The cops are going to find it along with these new videos, thanks to you. So you have two options. You can go to your room, pretend you never saw us, and not say a word until you make the call to 911 and put on the best show of your life. Or option two is that this turns into a murder suicide. Your father was so angry because you turned him in that he killed you, then himself. What’s it going to be?”

No matter my choice, my father is dying and I can’t find it in me to care. I have no feelings for him whatsoever.

He raped my best friend and god knows how many others. He’s treated my mom like shit, turning her into an alcoholic, and I have no love for him.

“Option one,” I announce.

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