Page 113 of Wrecked
He scoffs. “Enlighten me.” He takes a sip of coffee, grinning as if he’s enjoying this little game.
“Because you’ve gotten yourself into an unfortunate situation.” I walk over to his office door and flip the lock.
He laughs condescendingly. “What situation is that, son? Are you going to beat up an old man? The only thing that will do is ruinyourlife.” Sip.
“I’m not going to lay a hand on you, Nathaniel. You taught me better than that.”
“At least I taught you something.” He sneers, walking toward his office phone. “Get to the point, Nathan, or the next call Imake will be to remove my credit card from her hospital account.” Sip.
“Aw, don’t be so hard on yourself, Dad. You actually taught me a lot. You taught me how to play the game. You taught me how to cover my tracks. You sent me to the best law school in America. You just slipped up when you assumed I’d never be better than you.”
“Better than me?” He grins. “Nathan, you will never win this.” He finishes his coffee, tossing it in the garbage.
“I already have.” I slap a file down on top of his desk. Pictures, statements, recordings, videos, witness testimony…twenty years of corruption.
Nathaniel’s face turns white. “How did you find this?” he mutters in a state of shock.
“By being better than you, Nathaniel. And I didn’t even have to cheat to do it.”
“What do you want?” he demands as the color returns to his face. His cheeks turn red in anger before his hands clutch his chest and his eyes widen in surprise.
“Iwantedyou to pay for Emmy’s treatment and let me live my life. I wanted that life to be with Ellie. But you crossed a line today, Nathaniel. You crossed a line when you planted Katie in my life, knowing who she was. So, after today? I want vengeance instead.”
“What did you do?” Nathaniel gasps, he lands on his knees, still clutching his chest.
“You probably think I don’t know about your little insurance card. Your recently altered living will? The one that says I still have to marry Katie if anything happens to you. Otherwise, videos of Katie doing your bidding will be released to the public,” I spit out in anger.
“You won’t get away with this, Nathan. Those videos will ruin her. Call…call 9-1-1 and we will forget about this.” He forces the words out through the pain, his voice cracking as he drops to the fetal position.
“…the thing is,” I continue, ignoring his pleas, “your will was amended after your diagnosis.” His eyes widen as he realizes he’s lost all leverage. “Early on-set dementia, Nathaniel? I’m so sorry to hear that your last cognitive function test had very unfortunate results. You know, the one you took prior to adding the…oddvideo request to your living will.”
“You…fucking…shit. You…won’t get…away with this.” Nathaniel struggles to get the words out as I keep talking.
“I’ll stay engaged to Katie, of course. Just long enough to contest your will,” I continue as if he no longer exists. He crawls toward the small table in the corner of his office. He reaches up and knocks his cell phone onto the carpeted floor and starts inching toward it. I walk over to him, kicking his phone out of reach.
“You still won, Nathaniel. Youmadethe very monster you see in front of you. The one that is watching the life drain out of you with no feelings of remorse. The one that will never feel regret over the loss of you.”
Nathaniel yells out in agony as I take a seat in his office chair.
“Cyanide,” I explain. “It causes cardiac arrest in large doses…among many other things. This chest pain that you’re feeling? It’s because your heart is no longer pumping oxygenated blood. Pretty soon you’re going to suffocate. It’s going to be extremely painful, and unfortunately it will take several minutes to die.”
“They’ll…know…you killed…me.” Nathaniel wheezes, no longer able to move his body.
“It will look like you had a heart attack on any kind of diagnostic testing. Unfortunately, cyanide can be traced with more extensive tests. But I’ll deny an autopsy, so no worries there.” I smile at the fear in his eyes. “I forgot to thank you for making me your power of attorney.”
I feel nothing as my father starts to beg for his life, tears sliding down his face as he wets his pants.
“Ah, urinary incontinence. You’re likely experiencing kidney failure. I guess you know how it feels to be Emmy now. Begging for your life, watching the man who holds it in his hands callously toy with you. A man who doesn’t care if you die.”
“Pleeease,” he cries, his voice getting weaker.
“How does it feel? To lie here dying, knowing there isn’t a single person in this world who is going to miss you? To know that all your plans failed? To realize that yourlegacydies with you.”
“Son.” He gasps, before making an awful gurgling sound. I close my eyes and wait for it to stop. Once he’s quiet again, I open my eyes to see him no longer moving. No longer breathing. His eyes remain open, but they are glassy. I bend over to check his pulse.
Gone.
“Rest in hell, Nathaniel.”
