Beautiful Revenge

by John Forrester

  “Well of course it was in the possession of the family, we’ve owned the deed. That doesn’t mean Great-grandfather didn’t swindle his way into its ownership.”

  Father sighs and rubs his eyes in frustration. “That doesn’t matter!”

  “It absolutely does matter. Howard McNaughton laid a trap for you with that woman and you bit and bit big-time. Know your enemy, right? Don’t ignore him.”

  I study Father for a long time until I can see that his eyes are calm and a wave of realization has cleared the tense expression on his face. My voice is clear, determined. “We need to get close to him, our enemy, the McNaughtons.”

  “Why in heaven’s name would we want to do that?”

  “Haven’t you ever read The Art of War?”

  A flush of embarrassment creeps over Father’s face as he opens his mouth to answer, but instead he shakes his head as if disappointed in himself.

  “Well this is called war, war of the families, war for our survival. If we’re to survive we need to get close to our enemy, who at this point in time, I am quite sure, is Howard McNaughton. Keary is, as far as I can tell, on our side. He hates his father.”

  “And for good reason,” Father mutters.

  “Is it personal between you two? From when you were a boy or something?”

  A deep wrinkle forms between Father’s eyes as he practically glowers at me. “What makes you say that? Did Keary tell you something?”

  “No, just my hunch…a hunch that you’ve just validated. So what exactly happened between you two?”

  Father shifts around, agitated, his eyes evading mine. “I wasn’t exactly the nicest person while in prep school with Keary’s father. My father’s business at the time was doing extremely well; times were good and the money was flowing in. And the McNaughtons were struggling, stung from the savings and loan crisis in the late eighties, and I guess it hurt them even into the nineties. They were extremely resentful and jealous of our success, and I—as a young, arrogant teenager—well, I was an asshole to Keary’s father. I really rubbed it in.”

  “And now he’s gotten back at you. It’s his ultimate revenge.”

  I can see Father’s face darken at my words so I silence myself and wait for him to speak. I wish I’d never spoken those words; I’ve hurt him. My hand rises by itself to rub Father’s arms and a flicker of a smile forms on his face for a moment and then it’s gone.

  “The magnitude of revenge is quite disproportionate to what I did as a boy, at least in my opinion, although Keary’s father may feel differently. What I did was petty, cruel…insensitive for sure. I humiliated him in front of his friends. Looking back, I probably was the one that looked like the idiot, like the bully. I never realized the magnitude of his hatred towards me. He always pretended to be polite in front of me, in society.”

  “But behind your back he was saying terrible things about you and our family. Keary told me so. Father, what are we going to do? How are we going to survive? I’ve checked my bank account and the contents of my safe. I have around a million dollars.”

  Father’s eyes brighten up at my words, flashing with a mixture of hope and greed. “There is an immense amount the business can do with that, the leverage is quite powerful. At a thirty-to-one ratio that’s—”

  “Not for your business! For us, for our family, for Harris House. I’m not using the money that Grandmother gave me to save your business.”

  “But why? I’ve worked so hard to save the firm. We’ve only struggled over the last few years. If the creditors knew we had assets to leverage, they might extend the firm’s borrowing capability—”

  “Just stop!” I find myself shouting, fuming at my father for his inability to give up, to realize that his business is lost. Can’t he see it? “I don’t know the details of your business and I don’t want to know. All I know is the situation is so bad that I had to use my debit card to fly us back home. So I assume you, Mother, and Phillip have nothing.” I know Phillip has nothing since he just extorted $5,000 from me.

  I allow myself to calm down for a moment, and then I realize there’s a hole in Father’s story. “What I don’t understand is why Keary’s father hates you so much. What Great-grandfather did is ancient history. Bullying Keary’s father is another matter. But it doesn’t add up. For what he did to you, the magnitude of his hatred is just staggering. I don’t buy it. Why would he do this to you, do this to our entire family?”

  Father’s bloodshot eyes lower to the floor and he rubs the back of his neck, contemplating my question. After a long while listening to the panting of his breath and his muttered curses and sighs, he fixes his gaze on me and clenches his jaw.

  “I did the worst possible thing. I stole his true love away from him.”

  CHAPTER 12

  A HARD LUMP twists my stomach, making me sick as I think of Mother and Howard McNaughton together. So that was the reason he did what he did, and the way he did it. It was all about Mother. He intended to not only ruin Father, but to hurt Mother in the worst possible way. No wonder Keary hates his father; he really is a monster.

  “I don’t want to talk about any of this right now.” I’ve had enough. I want to puke all over my parents’ floor, but instead I run to my room, slam the door, and pull my hair back as I retch into the toilet. The memories flood my mind: Therese pleasing Keary, the lecherous look that Keary’s father gave me at the clubhouse, and Giselle’s face as she was moaning—the agony and ecstasy wrenching the loveliness of her features. I heave out all the contents of my stomach and inhale a huge gulp of air, finally feeling purged of malice.

  I’m so cold now. An uncontrollable shiver grips my body like an epileptic. I want to chew down on a thick strap of leather to keep from biting my tongue. My fist clenches and I beat the toilet seat like it’s a disobedient child. Pain shoots up through my arm and I realize I’ve been hitting the seat so hard that my hand and wrist are bruised up and red.

  It’s all so wrong and so twisted. Mother and Keary’s father, a couple? Father fucking that slut from the office—she gave me chocolate for Christ’s sake. And because of all this stupidity I’ve had to endure years of Mother and Father’s fighting, and Mother screwing and sucking every young thing that came along? Why don’t they all just grow up and act like civilized adults? I feel like I’m living inside the world of Planet of the Apes.

  If there’s one good thing to come of the collapse of Father’s business, it’s that maybe they’ll both sober up. I’m not paying a penny for any more alcohol to fuel their messed up lives. What I will do, with all my mental power, is to try and put Harris House and our family on solid ground. I swear it on my life.

  I take a deep breath and lift myself up, determined not to fail, and instantly think of Keary. The text he sent. Shit. I scramble over to my nightstand and grab my phone and quickly tap out a response. Situation seriously messed up. When can I see you? Sighing, I toss the phone onto the bed and lean back, staring at the ceiling.

  A moment later my phone buzzes and a thrill races through me. He’s been waiting for me. I grab the phone and read his text. I’m here in town. How about now? Can you get away or do you need a lift? I want to kiss him. I quickly text him back. Need lift, servants and driver all gone. Parents a wreck. Meet u at the gate? Only then do I think about the fact that my mobility is shot with our driver gone. I’ll have to fix that and hire someone or force Phillip to be my chauffeur. Screw that, I’ll hire someone.

  Keary texts back that he’ll be here in fifteen, so I comb my hair, cringe at my ghostlike appearance in the mirror, and put on a white top and green skinny jeans. I sneak outside my room, tiptoe down the stairs, and exit through the side door into the hot, muggy day. The air smells of roses and smoke from a distant fire.

  The garden is strangely vibrant and bright against my dark mood. I glance back at Harris House and the appearance of solidity and strength mesmerizes me for a moment, tricking my mind into thinking that everything is fine. Mental note to self: make sure the gar
dener is paid. How did Mother and Father manage the house before? Silly me, they didn’t. Ms. Halfax did everything for them. She took care of all the mundane matters pertaining to the house—with a full retinue of servants. I highly doubt she’d be of much use without them and there’s no way I can afford an army of servants. But maybe I can afford a few gardeners.

  I pass through the gate that leads out of our estate and spot a black Mercedes slowing down to greet me. Keary jumps out the back door and rushes over to me, concern and excitement washing over the beautiful contours of his face. He pauses in front of me, hesitant, probably sensing the tension and determination in my eyes. His hands anxiously reach out towards me, like they long to wrap around and hold me. I take small step towards him and he leans in and gives me the warmest, longest, most soothing hug I’ve ever had.

  “I was worried about you.” Keary’s soft voice ripples under my skin and sends a hot flush through my veins. “Why did you take so long to text me back? The rumors have been flying around society.”

  The rumors…I can only imagine what they are gleefully proclaiming. Let the wolves encircle the wounded prey.

  “Let them say whatever they want, it still won’t change a thing. My father’s business may be in ruin, but Harris House isn’t going anywhere.”

  “But they say your father personally went on the line for his business, so that means they can go after your family’s assets.”

  I shake my head. “No, his and Mother’s assets, not mine. I never signed a thing. And Harris House is fully in my hands. Grandmother had some kind of prophetic gift when she set things up the way she did.”

  “Well that’s a relief. From your text and the way your family left the island in such a hurry, I was worried I’d never see you again.”

  A grin spreads across my face as I stare up into his vulnerable, gorgeous eyes. “You can’t get rid of me that easily…come here.” I pull him close and kiss him tenderly at first, then a nervous edge to his movements propels him towards me, his tongue thrusting inside, his arms gripping mine, locking in a desperate, worried embrace. After he finishes kissing me, I gulp in an enormous breath of air and study the expression of loneliness and terror on his face. What’s gotten into him?

  “Are you okay?” I notice a flicker of pain course through his eyes and he looks away to avoid my gaze. My hand instinctively grabs his and I pull him to me and whisper in his ear that everything will be fine.

  “What’s wrong? You can tell me, honestly.”

  Keary sighs and presses his fingertips against his forehead, his expression scrunched and fatigued. “Last night my father was drunk—that in itself wasn’t unusual—but what he said was very unusual. He was talking to someone on the phone in his office, in his typical too-loud drunk voice, and I overheard him saying, ‘Wreck their family…Yeah, the business is trashed…but wreck their personal finances too. I want them out on the street.’”

  “Who was he talking to?”

  “I’m not sure, but I am sure he was talking about your family. That bastard is out to ruin you.”

  I glance at the driver sitting in the car, staring suspiciously at us. “Let’s take a walk.”

  Keary gets my hint and tells the driver that he can leave. The Mercedes storms off and we stroll down the road while I think of the best way to begin. I finally tell Keary the story of how we had to leave the island, how I paid for everything, and how everyone in my family was upset. I hesitate before telling him about his father and my mother, and the setup with Ms. Chen. But I know I have to tell him; Keary has to be on my side and understand what’s happened. So I tell him, in all the gory detail, and watch his face twist up in loathing hatred, no doubt thinking of all the terrible things his father has done to ruin my family.

  “I’ll kill him—” Keary’s voice breaks with emotion.

  I shake my head. “Patricide is rarely the best choice. I was thinking of something more subtle. Something that can even things out a bit and yet not flame the fire anymore. I don’t want our family to be your family’s enemy any longer. Okay?”

  “I don’t think that’s going to work, as much as you and I want it to work. You have two people that seriously hate each other, and—knowing my father—he won’t give up. If this is what he wants, to ruin your family, then he won’t let anything stop him. I know him; he’s like this. I’ve seen him do it countless times before to others in his business dealings. He’s cruel and ruthless.”

  So maybe killing him is the only option after all. “What do you think we should do?”

  Keary stops for a long while and kicks at small rocks on the side of the road. “Let me try and handle my father first and see if I can get him to back off a bit. I’m sure you have plenty to deal with.”

  “I really appreciate you helping me out—I know you don’t have to, but I want you to know it means a lot to me.”

  Keary blushes at that, his face quickly turning from serious to tender in a few seconds. After he recovers, he reaches his hands out and clasps mine, his large fingers caressing me gently. He whispers in my ear, “You don’t deserve this, you deserve better.” And I believe him. I believe that I do deserve better than this in my life; I deserve all good things and more and perhaps one day I will get them. But for now, as the proverb goes, I’ve put on my armor and sharpened my daggers.

  Blood will flow.

  Leaving Keary that morning isn’t easy. His soft kisses temporarily lure my mind away, but I keep finding my thoughts distracted; I just can’t stop thinking about what Howard McNaughton has done to my father. I want to hurt and maim and kill, but I also want to create and nurture and grow. I am Shiva and Parvati in one—destroyer and creator combined.

  It’s all ridiculous, really: me, just a girl, trying to run an estate like Harris House. With Ms. Halfax and an army of servants to run the house, it seemed so effortless. I can’t believe I never thought about it before. I was so naïve, living in my own insulated bubble created with our family’s wealth. But now that’s all gone and I know we have to live as frugally as possible.

  How long will the money last? Somber pictures seep into my brain of our family, desolate, of me forced to sell Harris House, our family out on the streets with nothing left. Is the situation really all that bad? I know it is. Despite all the reassuring words Keary has said to me, I don’t think he can do anything to stop his father. I hope it doesn’t make things worse.

  A week later, Mother is creeping me out with her newfound religion: being a domesticated housewife. I don’t know what’s weirder: her actually cleaning on her hands and knees, or her being kissed by Father while she’s wearing an apron. Some sick sexual fantasy probably. I just pray I don’t come home one day and find Mother wearing a French maid’s uniform.

  Since our near financial collapse, Father is also acting really strange; he’s way too helpful and nice. It fucking freaks me out to hear him constantly saying thank you. I think I prefer my parents being drunk and talking shit about everyone. Okay, so maybe it’s nice, but I’m still not used to it.

  Keary is a completely different story. I haven’t heard a word from him since I last saw him last, not a single text or e-mail. I’m super worried that his father has locked him in a closet or something and confiscated his phone and computer. In another week, school starts again and I’m hoping to finally see Keary. I made sure to prepay the entire year at Scheumann Academy. That’s one thing I don’t want to worry about, although I’m not really looking forward to going back to school other than to see him.

  Phillip is supposed to start school at Yale in the fall, and with his trust fund kicking in he shouldn’t have to worry about money, although I doubt buying drugs and alcohol is considered a necessary expense in the eyes of the trustees. Maybe it is if he shares the drugs with them. Father always said that bribes are often an important tool in negotiations.

  I don’t like how my brother looks when he wakes up in the morning. Besides the normal drugged out eyes and gaunt face, it seems like he’s withdraw
ing into a world of his own, a world where I’m an uninvited guest, a world that’s strange and haunting at the same time. I miss the old Phillip, the one who was proud and cocky and carefree. Now I realize all that was a facade built on top of Father’s wealth and power. Since that’s all gone, Phillip’s turned out to be a hollow shell.

  A late summer storm is blustering outside, lashing the tree limbs about, with the wind whistling through the cracks in the windows. Even though the afternoon is warm, I feel cold to my bones. I long for the past to come back to me. All the texts I’ve sent Keary remain unanswered. I check my phone just to be sure, but find nothing. My computer is lonely until I tap a key and it warms to my touch, showing me my dwindling Facebook friends. I look up Keary and discover he’s no longer on my friends list. His picture looks like a distant memory, of some other life, some other dream, like fading lines in the sand. I feel like crying but hold my emotions in check with a clenched fist.

  A message pops up in my Gmail account and I instantly click to see who it’s from. My pulse races with excitement.

  Keary just sent me an e-mail.

  CHAPTER 13

  I SCAN THE e-mail and my face twists into a snarl.

  Clarise,

  If you value the continuity of Harris House and your family, you will meet me tonight at 8 p.m., discreetly, at Mistral. Ignoring this request is not an option. Come alone. Do not tell anyone. You will be watched. When you arrive, give the name “Harris” and await my arrival. I have in my possession your drug-addicted brother. If you wish to prevent his suffering and eventual death at the hand of a needle, be on time.

  H.M.—

  Icy blades slice through my heart. What the fuck? Instinctively I grab my phone and call Phillip. When I hear his voice mail I immediately hang up and try again. Nothing. Where did Phillip say he was going this afternoon? Hanging out with some friends? A knot wrenches my stomach as I remember him complaining about money and me blowing him off—telling him to grow up and act responsibly. I’ll never be able to forgive myself if something bad happens to him.