Page 30 of If You Could Only Imagine
He stepped towards me and seethed, “Who’sBlack,goddamn it!”
There was no hesitation in my swing.
I didn’t give a fuck that he was my father. I didn’t give a fuck that I was at work. I didn’t give a fuck that I could be arrested. I didn’t give a fuck about anything other than this bastard disrespecting a woman; andmywoman, at that.
However, the thing was, Harold Buchanan wasn’t a pussy by any means, and just because Mason put him in his place, it didn’t mean he became a little bitch overnight.
The motherfucker righted himself and swung back.
It was on after that.
The first blow connected, but I managed to duck the second one and my right fist came up into his kidney with an uppercut. My hit was gold, but his fist to my kidney hit its target, as well. I could hear shit crashing all around us, but I still wasn’t giving a fuck. Harold Buchanan should have been put down like a rabid dog years ago with his racist, elitist, entitled beliefs.
I don’t know how long we were trading punches before I finally got the upper hand and had my father pinned over my desk just punching the fuck out of him.
It wasn’t until I heard Mason yelling my name and him stepping in between us that I pulled my fist back and stopped my attack. I wasn’t nearly done with the beating, but I wasn’t going to go up against Mason.
He was standing in between me and Harold, arms out, separating us two. Mason completely ignored my father as he looked at me and hissed, “What the fuck is going on, Aiden?”
I turned my head and spit out a wad of blood from my split lip before I answered him. “That motherfucker thought he could come into my office and ask me questions about Denise.”
Mason turned to my father who was doing his best to wipe the blood off his face. Mason’s voice was like pointed icicles. “Where in the fuck did you get the idea you could come in here and question Aiden about any-fucking-thing?”
I watched as Dad squared his shoulders. “Mason, he’s fucking around with employees,” he barked. “Even you can’t ignore that! It’s inappropriate and bad for business!”
Mason stepped to our father. “If you have any concerns regardingmy brother,then you bring them to me,” he seethed. “You are no longer head of this family, Dad.I am.And you would do well to remember that.”
I watched out of breath, with my chest heaving, as he said the one thing I knew would seal his fate with the family. “But, Mason, goddamn it, do you know that the woman he’s fucking isBlack?”
Mason grabbed Harold by the lapels of his suit jacket and dragged him clean off the ground, slamming him down over my desk. “You no good, sorry sonofabitch,” Mason hissed in his face. “If I ever hear you speak about Denise like that again, I will fucking end you.” Mason shook him for emphasis. “And if I ever hear you speak like that about any of my employees, friends, colleagues, associates…the goddamn cashier at the corner coffee shop, I will ruin you and everything you pretend to be.”
“Get off me, Mason,” Harold fumed, doing his best to maintain some kind of dignity. Luckily for him, Mason wasn’t Michael.
Michael would have thrown him out the window.
Mason shoved off of him, and stepping back, came to stand next to me. We stood side by side as we regarded the piece of shit we were unfortunate to call our father. I knew there was no way we could hide what just took place in here, and once again, I was grateful for a brother like Mason.
Dad did his best to put himself together, but he looked a mess. We both did. “I don’t understand how you guys can’t see how I’m just trying to preserve all of this for future Buchanan generations,” he stated, his tone superior and fucking idiotic.
“That’s not your job anymore,” Mason snapped. “Don’t forget, you piece of shit, the only reason you still have an office in this building, and are even welcomed in any of the BI sites, is becauseIfucking allow it.”
Dad stepped to us, but still remained a safe distance away. “Don’t forget who raised you, boy!”
“That’s the problem,” I said, finally joining in. “We can’t forget. You’re in every bad decision we’ve ever made.”
“I’m warning you, Dad,” Mason resumed with his set down. “If you ever say anything derogatory, insulting or disrespectful about Denise Hart, ever again, I will fucking end you in a way that will make you wrap a rope around your neck, ending all of our fucking misery.”
Harold straightened his suit and did his best to shake off Mason’s threat. “This isn’t over,” he announced. “However, we will discuss this at a more appropriate place and time.” Mason scoffed at his demand but didn’t say anything more as Dad walked out of my office.
The second the door shut, Mason turned towards me. “Are you okay, Aid?”
I dabbed my lip with the inside of my thumb. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I assured him. “How did you know?”
He jammed his hands inside his pockets and regarded me. “I didn’t,” he replied. “I got a phone call from Marcy in HR saying she just finished a meeting with Denise and that Denise wanted Marcy to carve out time for a meeting with me later today. I was just coming by to tell you.”
I nodded. This was bad. “Could you hear us in the hall?”
“Yeah,” he winced. “Everyone could hear you guys in the hall.”
