Page 10 of In Bed with the Enemy

"I'm leaving," I said to him.

"Is that so?"

I nodded my head rapidly but stayed fixated on where I was standing.

"There's the door, Ms. Reid," he said, gesturing to my left. "You've been free to leave at any time. You're the one that came here. You're the one that continued to stay."

"I came here to get answers," I said to him.

"And did you?" he asked, turning his gaze on me again. He took a step forward and I took a step back.

"I'm not sure," I said.

"Well then, Ms. Reid," he said, taking another step forward, which I once again matched with another step back, "What else is it that you want to know?"

"Why did you do it?" I asked him. "Is it really just about the money?" I said, referring to his behavior during the afternoon.

He shrugged and let out another sigh. "You may not have said it, Ms. Reid, but I know you think it. You think that I am a heartless bastard. Someone who cares more about the green in my bank account than the green on the trees. Someone who would sell their soul to the devil just to see their family's company continue in all its glory. You didn't have to say it, Ms. Reid. I read it from your eyes from all the way across the room." He paused before continuing. "So, I'll give you the answer you want, whether or not it's true. I did it for the money. I did it for my company. And I did it to ruin you."

I felt hot tears run down my cheeks. He said he was lying, even if he hadn't said it precisely. But hearing him say exactly what I was thinking was too much. The words stung as they snapped against my heart.

"You're a bastard," I said before finally finding the courage in the bottom of my stomach and turning to run out the door, not daring to look back.

8

ETHAN

Age 12

The television continued to blare with never-ending reports and footage of the oil that continued to bubble up from the ocean floor. It had been this way for the past twenty-four hours. Harrison and I had been mostly forgotten, but he was still too young to understand what was going on. I was just getting to the point where I at least knew that something very bad had happened and it had to do with Dad's company.

I knew it because Dad had been pretty much on the phone nonstop for the past day and the staff at the house had tried to keep us out of his way as much as possible. But, there was only so much someone could do to control two young boys, so Harrison and I had found a way to sneak downstairs past our bedtime to watch the television.

I looked to my right to find that my brother had fallen asleep. I froze as I heard my father hang up the phone and start walking towards the living room where I was currently tucked up between the coffee table and the sofa.

My father plopped down on the couch and let out a deep sigh. For a minute I thought maybe he hadn't seen me. "What are you doing up, Ethan?" he asked, proving that he had, in fact, seen me.

I gulped. My father wasn't someone who was very kind. He spent most of his days yelling at people on the other end of the phone. It was sort of hard to come down from that, even if your sons didn't work for you.

"Um, I," I swallowed thickly. "I just wanted to watch the television," I admitted.

My father scoffed. "Yeah? Is it entertaining you, boy?"

I curled in on myself a bit more. "Um, I'm worried about the birds," I admitted. For the last hour, I'd watched a number of seabirds covered in oil trying desperately to fly but unable to. Even as a child, I wanted to help them and knew something was very wrong.

My father shook his head in disapproval. "Worry about us, boy."

"Why?" I asked him, totally unable to understand his point. We were warm and comfortable in a gigantic mansion. We weren't outside and coated in oil, unable to fly and catch food, risking starvation.

"If this all goes south, the company may never recover."

"Well, you can find a new job, then. Right, Dad?" I asked, honestly.

My father let out a bark of laughter. "No, Ethan. I cannot just get another job." He turned down the television volume so that the newscaster's voice was just a faint hum in the background. "Turn around and look at me," he instructed. I knew better than to argue with my father, so I did as I was told, sitting on the coffee table uncomfortably, trying not to flinch under his intense stare.

"Now, look around, Ethan." He paused as he followed my gaze around the room. "See everything around you? The house you know so well? The kitchen that's always full of food? Your room, your bother's room? All the toys you both like to play with?" I nodded my head slowly.

"All of those things are paid for by the company. A company my father inherited from his father, just as you will inherit it from me. It is not something you can just abandon on a whim. It is our family's legacy. It is our status in the world. It is what provides. Do you understand how important all of these things are?"

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