Tangled up in Hate

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Tangled up in Hate Page 5

by Charlotte Byrd


  The world was different then.

  Now, self-publishers who want to compete in the crowded space need to learn a lot about marketing and advertising and be willing to invest some money into Facebook to grow their business.

  But back then, eBooks were brand new and no one really had smartphones yet so I didn’t really need to do any advertising at all to get sales.

  The harder I worked, the more my sales grew. At one point I was making nine thousand dollars a month and I thought that I was rich.

  For a kid who grew up with very little, the idea of making over a hundred thousand dollars a year was hard to comprehend.

  Especially from a business that I made with my own two hands. I was over the moon, and then it all came crashing down.

  My father was in debt again.

  He was too embarrassed to borrow money from me so he went back to Lindell who lent him another hundred and fifty thousand.

  He lost all but twenty of it and my mom reached to me for help.

  “I don’t know what you expect me to do,” I said. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “Yes, you do,” she insisted. “Or I’m sure you can figure something out.”

  “Why doesn’t he figure something out?” I insisted.

  “He has to pay Lindell back in two days. He’s out of options. He wants to go back to the casino and try to win it all back with the twenty grand that he has left. But you know how it works. When the cards know that you’re desperate, things don’t work out for you.”

  “That’s not the cards, Mom. It’s the nature of the game. The house always wins. How much money does he have to lose to get that?”

  We went back and forth in circles to no purpose. Her only goal was to convince me to help him and mine was to convince her to stop enabling him.

  “You don’t know what Lindell is capable of.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He owns a pool hall in Tucson. How bad can he be?” I asked a bit too confidently. It didn’t take me long to forget how much terror he inspired in me not too long ago.

  Mom shook her head and started to cry. My heart warmed up and I put my arm around her.

  “Alexander Lindell is the youngest son of the powerful Lindell family. He’s kind of a black sheep of the family, but they are all very bad. They own a lot of real estate in New York and investments in Russia and Saudi Arabia. They are connected with all the oligarchs and the sultans and all the worst powerful people in the world. The enemies of the Lindell family tend to disappear, never to be heard from again. There are rumors that they work with CIA black sites where they torture people outside of the United States but with the sanction of the CIA.”

  My heart sunk. I was scared of Lindell when I thought that he was just a local gangster, let alone someone who is connected so far and wide.

  For a moment, I thought that maybe my mom was exaggerating, or flat out lying. But I have never seen her look so scared before.

  “What about what you did before? The RV?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure if he will be so receptive to getting the money back after a year like he was before. Something is different now. He is always telling your father how he regretted not making you pay him more money back.”

  My body tensed up.

  “He knows that you are doing well now.”

  “How?”

  “He has access to lawyers and investigators. I don’t know. But you have to help him, Jack.”

  “And then what? I give him the money, lose everything that I have built and he goes back and gambles it all away again.”

  “He’s going to go back to meetings. He’s not going to do this again,” Mom promised even though we both knew it was a lie.

  I took the evening to think about it.

  I got angry, even put my fist through the wall, but eventually figured out a way to come up with the money.

  My father contributed the twenty grand that he had and paid the rest of his debt to Lindell with my money.

  My credit cards were maxed out and I borrowed money from what I owed my writers.

  I promised to pay them back, but months passed and I couldn’t. I didn’t have any more credit to extend and they were getting upset.

  Within a few months, almost all of them left and the only thing I could do was to declare bankruptcy.

  And still, my ties to the Lindell family weren’t over.

  Every few years, my father would stop painting and going to Gamblers Anonymous meetings and would find himself in the casino.

  Every couple of years, I would again hear from my mom about his debts and I would again be forced to pay.

  I knew that I was paying into a vicious cycle but I couldn’t see my way out of it. That was, until I started to make real money.

  Then the occasional hundred grand didn’t matter anymore and I cut off all ties with them otherwise.

  13

  Jackson

  Present day…

  Harley doesn’t know about any of this. To her, my parents are just quirky artists who live in Barcelona.

  They are those people, too, but there’s this other part of them.

  I didn’t tell her any of this because some histories are just too painful to go into. I wanted to forget and I thought that I could.

  I haven’t heard from Alexander Lindell in a long time and I had almost forgotten about him.

  When I tell Aurora the whole story, she listens carefully nodding her head. She knows bits and pieces of it from the past, from when we were first together, but this time I tell her everything.

  Someone has to know just in case…something happens.

  “I don’t know what to say to you, Jackson. This is really bad. So, what happened that day when you broke up with Harley?”

  I take a deep breath, fighting back tears. It had to be done, I say to myself silently. You didn’t have a choice. You had to protect her. I know all of these things, but that doesn’t make me miss her any less.

  “Someone stopped me on the street. Martin and the other bodyguards crowded around me, but he said he was just the messenger. He said that Alexander Lindell wants another meeting.”

  “Why did you go?”

  “I didn’t think I would at first. But then I wanted to find out what he wants. My debts have been paid plus some.”

  “So, you went?” Aurora asks.

  I nod. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t, but ignoring the Lindells has generally not been a good idea.

  “We met at a restaurant for lunch. It was crowded and there were kids running around everywhere. You wouldn’t think that it would be at a place like that where my life would change forever.”

  Aurora shakes her head.

  “He looked different actually. He has a five-hundred dollar haircut, no glasses, impeccably tailored suit. Even a briefcase. Apparently, he has been made Chief Operating Officer of Lindell Industries. They have expanded into microprocessors and other tech as well as more real estate here and abroad.”

  “They have properties all over Europe,” Aurora confirms. “They even own a couple of banks in Cyprus and Italy.”

  I don’t want to dance around the point much longer. I’ve been talking long enough about everything but what’s really on my mind.

  “He wants half of my company.”

  She stares at me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Lindell family and their holdings want to invest in Minetta and in return they want a fifty percent share.”

  “That means, they want controlling interest.”

  “Yes.”

  We stand and look at each other, each processing what this means on our own. For me, this means that I will no longer be the owner and even if I stay on as the CEO, they can fire me at any moment.

  I currently own seventy percent of the company and Aurora owns the other thirty.

  If they want half then we will have to split the other fifty percent.

  But worse than that, we’ll have to work with them.<
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  “Why do you think they want this? Don’t they know that we’re losing money and it’s not actually doing that well?”

  I think about that for a moment.

  “I think that’s precisely why they want it.”

  She furrows her brows.

  “They are involved with a lot of shady people. And those people need to launder their money in order to make it clean. Especially the Russians. So they sell them properties at cheaper prices, they flood into the United States, the UK, and Europe and fill it with empty mansions that they own but don’t live in.”

  “So they want Minetta to launder money through it?”

  “I don’t know exactly but I’m sure that having the credit that Minetta has will go a long way toward helping them achieve their illegal goals. I’ve read somewhere that for every legitimate company that the Lindells have, they also own five shell corporations. No one knows the extent of their corruption.”

  Aurora makes us some food and then asks me what else happened at lunch.

  Now, we’re getting to the hard part.

  “I said that I wasn’t interested. So Alexander told me I could either be open to talking to him in a professional way or he could make things very difficult for me. He mentioned that he knows that I have a girl that I’m interested in and he made threats against her.”

  Aurora shakes her head.

  “‘I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her,’ he said.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I denied it. I acted as if his information was wrong and I got the feeling that he believed me. But in order to make sure he did, I needed to break up with her. If they knew that there was someone I cared about that much, she would be their first target.”

  “You did the right thing, Jackson.”

  “Yeah? So, why do I feel so shitty about it?”

  We eat in silence, lost in our own thoughts.

  I know that Martin will take good care of Harley, but I hate the fact that I had to break her heart.

  For a moment, I consider the possibility of reaching out to her and telling her the truth.

  I want to do this so badly, but I can’t. If she knew the truth, even a kernel of it, then her life might be in danger again.

  The only way the Lindells will leave her alone is if they believe that she has nothing to do with this on any level.

  So the only way for her to be safe is for us to be apart and for her to believe that I don’t love her.

  I don’t want to talk about this anymore, so I head back upstairs. I want to be alone to figure things out, but my thoughts start to jumble around in my head.

  The Lindells have made a threat against Harley and now that I don’t have her, they’ll probably threaten someone else.

  I need to come up with some sort of plan. But nothing comes to mind.

  14

  Harley

  When darkness descends…

  Days turn into weeks and darkness settles in around me, wrapping around me like a forgotten blanket.

  It’s comfortable to lose myself in this world. I stream shows for hours each day and I never turn off the TV.

  Being alone with my thoughts feels like the worst thing in the world, so I do anything to fill the void. It’s nice to have other people to listen to. It’s nice to have other people talking about their problems.

  At least, they’re not my problems.

  Julie has stopped trying to rouse me and invited Martin inside.

  I didn’t want him here, but she felt too bad for him standing outside the door during his shifts. When he sleeps, another guard comes to stay with us.

  I don’t know his name because I never bothered to ask. I don’t care. I don’t want to meet new people.

  I don’t want to make nice.

  I don’t want to be friendly.

  Everything seems too difficult.

  Even taking a shower seems like a task that is just too insurmountable.

  I hear them somewhere in the background.

  Laughing.

  Talking.

  I turn to face them.

  I see them smiling.

  She reaches for his hand and he touches her back.

  They are flirting.

  How can they be doing that when I’m going through this?

  Julie and Martin are only a room away from me and I feel like they are on the screen. They aren’t really here and they aren’t really real.

  More time passes, but everything stays the same. Jackson is gone and I’m all alone. I will never meet a man like him again.

  I don’t even want to. This is what it’s going to be like for the rest of my life. Oily stringy hair.

  I don’t even have enough energy to blot it with dry shampoo. Dry skin. Brittle nails.

  Clumpy mascara on my eyelashes.

  I never bothered to fully wash it off when I first came home. Later, I said to myself.

  Later, I’ll feel better and that’s when I’ll do it. But I didn’t. Later, I felt worse than I did originally. Later made everything feel like crap.

  Julie and Martin are seeing each other now.

  They spend all of their time talking to each other, making boring jokes.

  They touch each other’s faces now, but they haven’t had sex.

  At least, not here. Did they sleep together already? I have no way of knowing. It would require me to talk to them again in something other than grunts.

  She continues to bring me food and water, but she’s getting frustrated.

  I don’t eat much but I drink plenty. The only time I get out of bed is to go to the bathroom to relieve my bladder.

  I wait until I can’t wait anymore and I feel like I’m about to burst. That’s the only thing that feels good nowadays.

  I’ve watched so many shows that my head spins and the headache from all of the chatter and the flickering of the screen is getting to be too much.

  I’ve spent days making plans for tomorrow. I’ll get up and do something productive tomorrow.

  Tomorrow will be a new day.

  But the day would come and pass and I wouldn’t do what I promised. And then suddenly, this afternoon, something feels different.

  I turn off the screen and just get up.

  No plans.

  No promises.

  No lies.

  I get out of bed, and instead of going to the bathroom, I go to the kitchen and make myself something to eat.

  Martin and Julie are sitting on her bed, but they don’t utter a word. I feel their eyes peering into the back of my head and I know that they’re mesmerized.

  That’s okay. I’m not doing this for them.

  I ignore them and make a sandwich. After chowing it down in four bites, I go to the bathroom and close the door.

  I turn on the water and lather my hair. Warm soothing liquid running down my naked body makes me come alive.

  Every pore suddenly opens up as my eyes close. The water rushes down my forehead, eyelids, and all the way down to the floor.

  It consumes me, washing away my old self. I want to stay here forever. I stay until the heat runs out.

  I don’t want to put my old dirty clothes back on so I wrap myself up in the towel. My hair gets wrapped in another towel.

  I look at myself in the mirror.

  My eyes are circled with blackness.

  I look tired, but awake. I don’t linger long. I head straight to my closet and find fresh clothes to wear.

  Martin and Julie are so surprised that they barely look away in time before I take the towel off and change. I see him turn his face away and hear him whisper, “I’m not looking.”

  They are comfortable with each other. They hold hands. They lean on each other as they stand. They kiss on the cheek.

  When I turn around to face them, I realize that this is the first time that I have ever looked at Martin, really saw him.

  He is in his late twenties, thin but fit. He has a chiseled body and kind eyes. His shirt is a bit too tight.


  He wants people to notice his body and most do.

  His hair is shaggy, probably specifically cut to look disheveled.

  “How are you feeling?” Julie asks slowly. I can sense her fear.

  She’s afraid of doing or saying anything that will make me retreat back into my cocoon.

  But she shouldn’t be.

  I have no plans to go back there.

  “Better.”

  “Good. Good.” She gives me a hug.

  “I’m going to go outside,” I announce after I break myself free of her.

  Martin hesitates.

  I know he needs to come with me and I’m in no mood to fight him.

  I put on my coat and hat and gloves and boots. Still he hesitates, whispering something to Julie.

  He’s not really this unsure.

  She’s the one who has made him this way.

  Or maybe it’s her uncertainty that’s brushing off on him.

  Or maybe he just defers to her because she’s my roommate.

  I don’t know. I don’t care.

  “Martin has to come with you,” she says, bracing herself for my response.

  “I know. That’s why I told you.”

  15

  Harley

  Wrapped in gray…

  They follow after me. I can sense their whispers.

  They are analyzing me.

  Studying me.

  Trying to figure me out.

  There is nothing to figure out. I am just a broken woman on a walk. That’s all I am. There’s no mystery here.

  You wouldn’t think that it’s possible to start life over with a crack in your heart, but life is full of impossibilities.

  The only thing that tortures me now is why.

  Why did he do this to us?

  Why did he make me believe in a fairy tale and then snatch it away?

  Why? Why? Why?

  A million times why?

  The further I walk, the closer I seem to get to my pain. It surrounds me. It wraps me up like a big warm blanket, refusing to let me go.

 

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