“Simons. Contact Senator Wright, please.” She says this into the air as if it would miraculously happen.
“Yes, Dr. Staples.” There is a long pause. “Connected. You may speak, Senator Wright.”
“Senator Wright, sorry to call you so late in the evening, but I have your son here, and he’s demanding to be released. He’s stating that you’ll come head hunting if I do not let him go.”
“Dr. Staples, that’s quite alright. I figured something like this would happen. Can I speak to my son?”
“You’re on the speaker in the room, Senator.”
I listen to the calm way they are talking to one another and it further pisses me off. I can hear the air whistling through my nose as I take deep, angry breaths. Why is he so calm? He knew about this?!? Of course, he knew about this. I’m going to rip his fucking balls off!
“Geoffrey, I know where you are. I’m the one who told them how to find you and how to best get you there. You might think that I’m stupid to your ways, but I’m well aware of what you do and how you do it.”
“Father, I demand to be let go. And tell Edward, I’m going to kill him when I see him next.” Fucking snitch. I glare at Dr. Staples.
“Listen, Geoffrey, and listen very carefully. If you’ve never listened to anything else in your life, listen to this. Be honest. In everything you say and do, be honest. It will all go easier for you. These people don’t like lies, they have a way…” His voice drops off. He’s quiet for so long that I think he’s hung up. “Geoffrey, I know I’ve failed as a father, but in this, listen and obey. Be honest! Goodbye, son.”
I growl. He’s playing the good father on the speaker where everyone can hear him. I’m sure if it were just he and I talking, it would have sounded much differently. Two-faced cum-dumpster.
I glance over and the fucking cunt is looking at me as though she has all the time in the world. “Now, Mr. Wright, about that basic information.”
“Fuck you. I’m not telling you shit, and that’s the goddamned truth.”
“I see.” She stands and strides out the room.
I pull against the straps covering my wrists and ankles. They won’t budge, and the more they won’t budge, the angrier I get. I swear that when I get out, I’m going to burn this place to the ground. They’ll regret the day they fucked with me. I think I’ll throw dear old dad and Edward into the inferno while I’m at it.
The door opens and I expect the bitch to walk back in, but instead it’s this short, balding piece of shit in jeans and a T-shirt and an open lab coat.
“Hey! Dude! Come here and unstrap me. If you hurry and get me out of here, I’ll give you ten grand.” I’m not going to give it to him, but the dumbass won’t know that until I’m long gone.
He ignores me and heads over to the dinette and grabs something from the cunt’s bag.
“HEY! YOU! Hello?!? Are you deaf? Let. Me. The. Fuck. Go!” I start pulling on my restraints again, trying my hardest to get his attention. All that happens is he walks out of the room.
“ARRRGGHHH!!!” I want to throw something, break windows, faces…something. They want me to talk. If they want me to talk, they have to let me go.
The door opens around ten minutes later, and the balding asshole in the T-shirt is back. “Hello. My name’s Jack and I’ll be asking you some questions. Some will be easy to answer, others not so much. I just need you to be as honest as possible.”
I snort. “Here’s honesty for you: go fuck yourself.”
“Meghan told me that you weren’t very cooperative for her either.” He nods calmly. “That’s okay. You’ll come around.”
“Fuck you.”
“How about I start?” He asks this as he sits in the chair that Meghan vacated. I can only roll my eyes at him.
“Your name is Geoffrey Michael Wright, Jr. Your father is senator Geoffrey Wright. Your mother is Linda Diane Wright, née Forsi. Your birthday is September 3, 1990. That makes you twenty-six years old. You went to Dartmond Academy until you graduated. Which you did with honors. Then you attended Ingleton University, where you studied political science. How am I doing so far?” the pretentious prick says with a faint grin.
“Are you all fucking crazy here? Is that what this is? Is my father trying to do an intervention or one of those scared straight programs?” I’m beginning to wonder just what the fuck I’m into right now. The initial anger has simmered down. I’m still really pissed off, but I’m not at that rage point anymore.
“Geoffrey, I know you’re upset and you’re confused. But really, if you help me out, I’ll be more than willing to make this as easy as possible for you.” The guy, Jack, leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees like he’s about to share a secret.
“Fine, I’ll bite. What could you possibly need my help with?” I’ll play his game until he loosens me up then I’m getting the fuck out of here. I don’t care if I have to kill him to do it.
“First, we really do need to get this basic information from you because what we have to discuss is very sensitive and I’d hate for the wrong person to be involved, wouldn’t you?”
“Fine. You need me to repeat it? What do you want me to say? Yes, my name is Geoffrey Michael Wright, Jr. My father is the senator, my mother’s name is Linda Diane Wright, once upon a time she was Linda Diane Forsi. I went to boarding school at Dartmond Academy and then to college at Ingleton where I studied pol-sci and economics. What else is there that you need to know?” I sigh. I have no idea why this is so important.
“What can you—” Jack starts, but I won’t let him finish. He’s going to learn that I am the one in charge here.
“Why didn’t you just call and ask me to come in? Why send that pute after me? You could have just called and invited me for an interview. Why drug me? This doesn’t garner any trust in you, you realize that.”
“You will not call Dr. Staples a whore. I don’t appreciate my colleague being talked about like that.” Though the statement is said quietly, the threat it contained is very clear.
“This is how it’s going to go.” He stands and moves to the foot of the bed, his nice demeanor gone. “I’m going to ask a question, you’ll give an honest response. If you are uncooperative in any way, there will be repercussions. Eventually, you will be honest with me. It’ll be too painful not to.” He pulls the sheet off of me and I find myself completely exposed. He moves to my side. I hope for his fucking sake he doesn’t rape me.
“The FUCK are you doing?”
“I had hoped to prolong having to do this, but you really are as stubborn as your father said.” He says this calmly, with even a hint of remorse on his face. But what really catches my eye is the funny looking scalpel in his hand. I swallow past the fear threatening to choke me. Who the hell has my father hired to scare me? Whatever, it won’t work.
I don’t know what he intends to do with that funny looking knife, but whatever it is, he won’t because of who I am. I feel my face turn up in a smirk.
“Fuck. Off.”
The blade slices the skin of the inside of my forearm.
Initially, it feels like a bad stinging itch, then this intense burn. I glance down to see a rectangle strip of skin hanging from the wrist right before the strap that’s holding my arm down. I clench my jaw and shut my eyes. I am struck nauseous by the blood starting to well up.
Suddenly, there is this warm wetness coating my palm. Before I can breathe, there’s liquid fire being poured over it. The screams tear from my throat and tears leak from my still-clenched eyes. I don’t notice the asshole move.
He brings the blade down and at first, I don’t feel anything, then the faintest itching burn, much like a razor cut. It starts at the inner part of my knee and spreads to the outer. I try not to flinch or give any response, but my body tenses and grunts are drawn out of me anyway. My father has done worse things, at least I think he has. I can feel blood drip to the sensitive skin of the back of my knee.
SHIT. That fucking hurts but I refuse to give
him the satisfaction of knowing he’s hurt me. I simply glare at him. Just who the fuck is this guy?
“Geoffrey, that’s just a hint of what you’ll go through if you remain uncooperative. Now, you had a car get stolen, correct?”
“Sure.” I don’t want to even contemplate what my father’s done. He can’t be so cruel as to send me to some homicidal maniac. This has to be one of his goons sent to scare me straight.
“We had the thief in here earlier today. She only stole the car; the body and the briefcase she had no knowledge of. What can you tell me about them?”
“I have no clue about what you’re asking.”
Jack sighs and moves the blade again. This time instead of an itchy burning feeling, I feel fire scorching my knee and I jerk, causing the blade to cut deeper. My leg doesn’t go far because it’s tied down at the ankles. I look to see that a section of my skin is hanging off my leg. The blood freely flows from it.
I have to fight back the vomit threatening to rip itself out of my stomach. Who the fuck does this to someone…oh, shit.
SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.
I look back up to his maddeningly calm face. I realize who he is: he’s the Bee Keeper. Fear settles in the pit of my stomach.
“Let me ask that again. What can you tell me about the body and the briefcase that were in your car before the thief stole it?”
“Fuck if I know. Ask the fucking thief who stole my car,” I growl between clenched teeth, refusing to sound as scared as I am. I look down at my leg again. I watch the rivulets of blood drip onto the bed. Then I notice that the dangling skin is gone. Funny how I never felt him remove it. “The fuck are you doing to me?”
He doesn’t answer as he slides the blade under the skin just above the missing piece. Oh, fuck! He’s skinning me like a rabbit! “For every lie, obstruction, or uncooperative response, I’ll remove a section of skin.”
The burning intensifies as he starts to pull the flesh up as he slices underneath it. I try so hard, but the screams tear out of me anyway. After a moment, the pain lessens to that intense burning. Strange how this burning is less painful when it’s still more painful than anything I’ve experienced in my entire adult life. Once the screams die down, that fucker stands at my head and leans over me so I can see clearly into his hateful hazel eyes.
“Tell me how that body got to be in your car and the briefcase missing.”
“Go fuck yourself. I don’t know anything, question the fucking thief.” I spit the words at him through gritted teeth, when he shakes his head as though sad. He walks down to my other leg. “When I get out of this, I’m going to rip you limb from fucking limb and piss in the sockets! ARGHHHHHH!!!!” I scream as he not only slices my leg but instead of using the knife, he just tears the skin up my thigh with his fingers.
“Let’s talk about something else for a moment.” He carries on while I fight to catch my breath. “Your father tells me that you should already be making waves politically, but instead you’re choosing to waste your life away on drugs and alcohol. Why?”
“Because I have a lot of time to be an old man. I want to have fun until then. Besides, drugs, alcohol, and sweet pussy are so much more fun than sitting down gobbling rhetorical cock, wouldn’t you say?” I pant because the pain in my leg is so intense. Fucker, I can’t wait to watch the life leave his fucking eyes.
“But, in order to achieve the success your father has, you need to start now. You can’t afford to wait until you’re older. He also tells me that his pushing you to be more like him is causing some problems.”
Jack turns his back to me and grabs something. He pivots around with a jar in his hand and dabs some salve on the tears in my skin. My teeth start to chatter because the pain is so intense at first, but after a moment, it fades to a dull warmth. He sits down in his chair by the bed when he finishes. “I know that hurt a little. Sorry, I interrupted you telling me about these differences of opinion between your father and yourself. Please, continue.”
I figure I might as well answer him, maybe then he’ll understand that he’s messing with the wrong Wright. I might be my father’s son, but I’m a bigger force to be reckoned with. “I don’t really know what I want to do with my life right now. I’m just enjoying what I’m doing so far. He wants me to be more like Edward, constantly following him, taking notes, and nodding at every single thing he does. I won’t do it.”
“Who’s Edward?
“He’s my best friend. We’ve been best friends since Dartmond. Went to Ingleton together and now he’s my father’s intern, whereas I’m his pathetic son. But don’t be stupid, my father is not the benevolent character that he wants everyone to believe.”
“You’re referring to his associations with the local crime syndicate?” He leans forward in his seat, he’s definitely in this conversation now. I wonder how much I should tell him.
I snort. “You could say that, among other things. You realize that Hartford would be a better place to live in if my father did his job right. Instead, he’s more concerned with how he looks than how morally he lives. But honestly, I love the lifestyle I can live because of his immorality. I shouldn’t have to work until I’m ready.”
“If your father is insisting that you work, how do you manage to maintain your lifestyle? I don’t see the senator keeping you up if you don’t work with him.” He leans his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him.
“That’s the fucking problem with him. He’s so convinced that he’ll get his way. He doesn’t know that his days are numbered and that being kind to me now will grant him kindness in the future.” I know I’m babbling, but I can’t seem to help myself. What the fuck did that bitch give me? I feel like a teenage girl at a sleepover.
“If it were me and I knew all this bad business he’s involved with, I’d bribe him or blackmail him or something.”
“What do you think the briefcase was about?” I snorted, and instantly regretted my big ass mouth.
Fuck me.
“Ah, so that’s why he wants the briefcase so badly. It has incriminating evidence against him, and you want to use it to buy yourself into your lifestyle a little while longer.”
I clamp my mouth shut, refusing to say anymore. I need to get the hell out of here before I get turned into a simpering idiot.
The fucking shit sighs. What is it with these retards and sighing? Can they not get enough oxygen in this joint? Then pain and fire shoot down my shin as the fucker pulls off more skin. I don’t have to see it to know. I grit my teeth so hard, I’m surprised they don’t break. I can hear grunts and what sounds like crying in the room.
I look around and see only that asshole.
Shit, those sounds are coming from me.
“Are you ready to talk yet? You have a lot of skin left, and trust me when I tell you, it will get worse. It never gets better.”
“You are one sadistic bastard; do you know that? I can’t wait to shit on your corpse…” A scream rips from me as he tears another strip, only this time it’s from my inner thigh. This one has me seeing stars, it hurts so badly.
“We’re going to change gears again. I want to know about that man and the briefcase and how they ended up in your car. Tell me the truth. I don’t hold judgment. I am simply tracing the trail of truth.”
“Take a seat because this will take a while then.”
He raises an eyebrow but does as I say. Fucker. I’ll give him enough. Then this bastard will pay for what he’s done so far.
Once I get my breath back, I start. “I met P.A. James around ten years ago…”
“Who’s P.A. James?”
“The man in the trunk. Phillip Allen James is his full name, but we all just called him P.A. Like I was saying, I met him around ten years ago. He worked for Timo Hauer, and he came to my father’s house as an errand boy. That’s what he did. He ran errands for Timo.”
“Timo Hauer? The local philanthropist? He just opened a gallery not long ago, right?”
“You can say that.
” A derisive snort escapes me unchecked. It makes my head spin some more.
“You wouldn’t say that?” he asks as he cocks his head to the side.
“You’ve never really met Timo Hauer, have you?” I turn and look him in the face.
“I can’t say that I have. I’ve only read about his charities through the media.” He looks at me puzzled, as though he truly believed the newspapers. For someone who seeks the truth, he is an idiot to follow that garbage.
“Just trust me when I tell you that the last person you should ever trust with anything, especially the truth, is Timo Hauer.”
“Oh…well, do continue.”
“Anyway, P.A. came to my father’s house on business for Timo and that’s how I met him. Sometimes, he would run errands for my father, too. Though Ed has more dealings with P.A. than I have.”
“Did you have dealings with him the night your car was stolen?”
I let the memories of that night wash over me. “It actually started before…”
It is a hot July day and my father is already on my shit about interning for him this summer. He’s starting his campaign, though it won’t “officially” start until next spring. I’m so angry that I’m pacing circles in Ed’s apartment, waiting for him to come home from his date with Maya.
When Ed comes home, he finds me sloshed and ranting on the phone to some sex operator about my dad and his constant hounding. And yeah, I was on his landline so daddy dearest didn’t find the charges on my cell phone records.
“Geoff, why are you in my house? Wait, why are you on my phone?” he asks, exasperated with his hands on his hips. I swear, you’d think he was a fag or something with the way he holds himself. I know better, I’ve watched him fuck women, but he can be such a bitch sometimes.
“That fucker says that if I don’t start working this summer, he’s going to cut me off completely. I’m twenty-five fucking years old and I’m not ready to settle down and be a fucking automaton for him. No offense, man. That’s what you want to do. Me? I want to party for a couple more years, is that too much to ask? Shit, he wants me to marry what’s-her-fucking-name in a couple of years. I’ll settle down then.”
The Bee Keeper Page 5
