Page 58 of Wrecked
It’s getting close to eight at night, so a few minutes later, I kiss her goodbye and make a show of unlocking my window so she can sneak in later—the way I do every night she leaves my house. I lie in bed with plans of watching TV for the next few hours until she sneaks back over.
I joltawake at the sound of my dresser drawer slamming shut. I glance at the clock on my bedside table. It’s after ten at night. I must have fallen asleep watching TV. I jump when the folder containing Ohio State admission and scholarship paperwork lands on my chest. I sit up quickly and squint into the darkness, trying to make out who is in my room with me.
A hand wraps around my throat, forcing my head against the headboard of my bed. I’m still waking up, not nearly strong enough to fight back. The scent of my father’s cologne wafts into my nose, and I quickly realize that this is it.
I’m going to die.
My vision starts to fade from the lack of air, my head feels dizzy. I grab hold of the wrist strangling me, trying to pull it free from my neck, but it doesn’t budge. My eyes feel as if they are bulging out of their sockets, tears dripping down my face as I continue my fight for oxygen.
I see Ellie. I see our future together. I see what was in my grasp quickly slip further and further away. My mind becomes foggy, and I feel like I am floating on a cloud. I want to let go, to bask in this feeling forever. I’m going to do it, leap onto this cloud of wonderful, blissful, nothingness.
No.
NO.
Ellie.
I lift my legs with the little strength I have left and knee my father in the gut. The surprise attack has him weakening his hold around my neck. I bring my head forward and slam it against his. A feeling I am far too used to, but the kind of pain that Nathaniel has never felt before. He grabs his head in agony, and I jump off my bed while gasping for air.
I reach into the drawer of my bedside table and take out my Benchmade pocketknife. I flip it open and hold it out in Nathaniel’s direction.
“Well, look who finally found his balls,” he sneers, stillrubbing his head. The pain I caused him makes me almost giddy with satisfaction.
“Fucking touch me again and I’ll run it through you,” I growl, gripping the knife so hard my knuckles turn white.
“I’d think long and hard about that, Nathan. The conversation we are about to have will go one of two ways. I suspect you’ll want to avoid one direction.”
There’s the Nathaniel I know. A picture of poise, once again. Like he didn’t just try to choke the life out of me, as if we are just over here discussing business.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your future, son. You’re going to withdraw from Ohio State,” he spits the name out as if it tasted like shit on his tongue, “and you’re going to accept admission to Columbia.”
“Why the fuck would I do that? Five weeks left of school, Nathaniel. Then I’m gone. I don’t need you or your money. I have a full scholarship out of this shithole.”
“Ellison.” His smile is slow and twisted as he says her name.
“Keep her name out of your goddamn mouth. I will fucking gut you like a pig.”
“A lot of threats from a kid with no resources.” He smirks, like he’s getting a kick out of this conversation. “Regardless, what happens to Ellie will happen whether you take that knife to my throat or not. But I can make this all go away. Your call, Nathan.”
“What…what are you talking about?”
“I’m the district attorney, Nathan. The most high-profile cases land on my desk. But sometimes…sometimes we have to go digging for the dirt we need.”
I look at him confused. He’s talking in circles, enjoying the panic rising in my chest.
“I went digging, Nathan. It turns out, Ellison’s family has come into a bit of money recently. Fancy cars. Fancy dinners. Fancy private schools. Diane even made sure Chris returned herfamily’s college funds for the girls. Money he previously stole to pay the bills they were behind on.”
“What’s your point?” I ask, not liking where this is going.
“Well, it’s interesting. Christopher Hansel didn’t get a promotion. A new job. A second job. So, I took a little look into where this money was coming from.”
“Ellie’s mother has a rich family,” I say, hoping this will be the end of the conversation.
“Ah, yes. The Welshes. They haven’t had contact with their daughter in over nineteen years. No, no, that’s not it. See, all that money? It’s currently sitting in an offshore bank account. Two thousand dollars here. Five thousand dollars there. All relatively small sums to embezzle from a large corporation. Not even noticeable really. Not when it’s taken in small quantities. But Chris has been stealing from his organization for the last four years.” His eyes darken as he shares the illegal activity Ellie’s father has been involved in.
“So, arrest him.” I laugh, not giving a shit what happens to Chris Hansel. Hell, if he went to jail, they’d all be better for it.
