Tears on a Sunday Afternoon - Michael Presley [52]
“I don’t talk to my daughter, but I do understand the effect Annette has on her. I might have to kill her.”
I smiled. Now he was talking my language. A thorn that I thought would always be in my side was being removed. I was certain that I would have killed the bitch myself, but it would be better if Malcolm did it. So many things had changed since I had killed my father. I now felt empowered to do whatever I had to do to take care of my problems. Taking a life no longer meant anything to me.
“I believe you can do it much easier than I. I don’t think Emerald would be happy with his father in jail.”
“You’ve pushed me ahead of schedule,” Malcolm said. “But I’ve seen my daughter with cuts and bruises and I know they didn’t come from you. I agree with you. That isn’t a good environment for Emerald.”
“Have Dora call your daughter tomorrow and, in seven days, I want my money. I’ll give you two weeks to take care of Annette. I’ll bring the papers giving you legal guardianship and the right to change Emerald’s last name. In return I want you to bring me the three million.”
“It seems like you’ve really thought this thing through,” Malcolm said. “What happens if I don’t bring the money?”
I confronted him with my eyes. “Then one day you’ll have to hire detectives to find Emerald.”
“You realize what will happen when I find you.”
“If you find me. I read recently that they found a child who went missing twenty-five years ago. Are you willing to take that chance? If you are, then we have nothing more to discuss.” I turned to walk away.
“Okay, you have a deal.”
I swung back around to see him extending his hand to me. “Three million dollars.”
“Yes.”
Malcolm grasped my hand tightly to see if I would flinch. The time for flinching was over. He held my hand for about a minute, extracting the life blood from it. When he finally let go, I slipped my hand into my pocket; my face expressionless. As I turned to walk away, I knew that the next time Malcolm and I met on those grounds, one of us would not be walking away.
I drove over to Julie’s house under the pretense that we would be discussing the robbery. In actuality, I wanted to talk about us. She had told me that Brian wasn’t coming over so we could talk. I didn’t want to talk; I wanted to take her in my arms and make earth-shattering love with her.
She opened the door wearing fitted jeans and a tight, red shirt with the word “Blackfunk” screen printed in black on the front. “What’s up?” she asked, leaving the door open for me to come in.
“I need directions.” I walked in and closed the door.
“Where you going?”
Damn, this will make me sound like a child. “To your heart.”
“Donald, don’t start this.” She sounded like I had drained the very life out of her.
I went up behind her. “Don’t start what?”
I could hear her heavy breathing as her body fought the temptation to turn around.
“I knew that you would start this. Donald, you don’t want me. I’ve known you for all these years and you’ve never approached me. Now that I’m in a relationship with your friend, you’re bringing this on me.” She sat down on the couch.
I remained standing. “Julie, I’ll walk away right now if you tell me that you want us to just be friends. I don’t know when it happened but, somewhere along the line, I fell in love with you. I touched you and my blood ran ten miles a minute. Can you honestly tell me that our relationship hasn’t changed?”
Julie remained silent for what seemed like an eternity. “Donald, you’re so damn selfish. How long have I waited to hear you say those words to me? I’ve seen you through both the sunshine and the rain. I’ve held my feelings for you under my skin for so long; just waiting. It pained me when you walked down the aisle in this loveless marriage. If you had looked, you would’ve seen the tears in my eyes, but you were too wrapped up in the glitter.