DIGGING A HOLE (The OHellNO Series Book 3) Page 3

  Oh crap. My stomach cramps up, and my head starts feeling like it’s in a vise. Approximately nine women and men in suits are staring at us.

  Abi chuckles nervously. “Uh, sorry, folks. We, uh…” She grabs my hand and yanks me around Brooks, out into the hall, forcing me to run until we’re at the stairwell. The moment we reach it, I double over.

  “I think I’m going to pass out,” I groan.

  “Oh, God! Not now, Georgie!”

  I can’t help it. My nervous system has reached my max. Overload. Overload! Luckily, I was too scared of repeating the oatmeal episode, so I skipped breakfast.

  I will myself to stand, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.

  Abi looks at me and starts laughing. After a long moment, I laugh, too, but mostly out of embarrassment.

  “You got the job!” She bounces on the balls of her feet.

  “I can’t work for him, Abi. He’ll eat me alive and crap me out.” I let out a slow breath.

  “Georgie,” she sighs with disappointment, “this is the moment you’ve been waiting for.”

  To work for some asshole who treats me like a doormat? Me thinks not. “If I wanted to be told I’m worthless and stupid, I could just spend more time with my father.” Of course, that’s not exactly true anymore. My father, once the world’s most coldhearted, money-grubbing billionaire, now spends his days lighting incense and doing the downward dog in the buff. He also speaks to animals. And bugs. And trees. The man’s lost it. Still, I’ve spent twenty-one years of my life being written off by him and everyone around me, including my brother, Henry, and my two sisters, Michelle and Claire, who genuinely care but don’t have high expectations due to my panic issues. My mother, Georgina, is slightly more supportive, but in her very reserved, hard-nosed way. You can do better, so do it is her favorite thing to say.

  “No, Georgie.” Abi grips my arm. “You’re missing the point. Brooks is your dragon. He’s everything you’ve ever feared.”

  “Meaning,” I nod slowly, “I’m supposed to slay him.” It’s the lamest idea she’s ever come up with.

  “You need to learn to stand up for yourself, Georgie.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But nothing. Haven’t you ever wondered how I turned the corner?” She points toward the door. “I had some asshole boss just like him when I worked at Taco World last summer, and he was the best thing to ever happen to me. I became immune to him after a few weeks. Then no one could scare me. Of course, he was stupid, so I didn’t learn anything, but Brooks is smart. You keep your eyes and ears open, and you’ll walk out of here knowing everything about sales.”

  I stare at the cement floor, the orange fluorescent lighting of the stairwell casting gloomy shadows all around us. It feels like I’m deciding whether or not to enter hell and work for Satan. For the experience and personal growth, of course. That said, I’ve tried everything to overcome this mental hurdle—hypnosis, therapy, visualization, antianxiety drugs, meditation, and emotional support teddy bears since my dad would never let me have a real pet. Maybe it’s time to try a dragon.

  “Georgie,” she pushes, “you don’t have any other job offers, and you can quit anytime, so just give it a try. What do you have to lose?”

  I start thinking of my family and how much they need me. I have a lot to lose. And so do they.

  “Okay. Fine.”

  She claps and lets out another squeal. “I’m so excited!”

  I wish I could share her enthusiasm, especially now that I’ve apparently confessed to the PVP leadership team that I’m a virgin who’d gladly sit on Brooks’s face if he had a soul.

  “Okay. Let’s get you over to HR to start your paperwork.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t do that. Fake name, remember?”

  “I thought Robbie got you set up.” Robbie is a guy we met in our computer science class. He’s one of those genius geeky types who earns cash by selling fake driver’s licenses.

  “He doesn’t do Social Security cards, but don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.” I practically grew up in places like these. The Walton Holdings’ building is like Fort Knox, yet I still manage to get in there without anything. And no, the security guards there never recognize me. I’m utterly forgettable. In any case, my bigger concern right now is keeping the job long enough to prove I’m more than just a shy face, while working for the meanest boss ever to walk the earth.

  Georgie, I remind myself, you’ve been through a lot worse. And I can’t ever forget that if it weren’t for me, my mother and sisters might not be alive today. I know I have it in me to be strong.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Approximately Four and a Half Months Earlier.

  Tears and snot run down my wet face as I watch the tail of our plane sink into the Gulf of Mexico. My sister Claire has a gash on the side of her head, and my mother is doing her best to stop the bleeding with her sweater. Everyone is yelling and screaming at my father.

  “This is for the best. You’ll see,” he says, a wild look in his eyes.

  My ears are still ringing from the plane’s hard landing in the ocean, but I swear I hear someone yelling off in the distance. My head hurts, and everything feels like a bad confusing dream, the faces around me distorted. However, I’m lucid enough to know that no one else hears the distress call.

  Slowly, I turn and squint in the direction of the late afternoon sun to the west. Off in the distance, I spot a head bobbing in the waves.

  I quickly look around our large yellow raft. All are accounted for except the pilot.

  I’m about to tell everyone he’s there, but then something happens inside me. I see Michelle blubbering hysterically, her long brown hair wet and dripping down her face. I see blood coming from Claire’s head, running down my mother’s arm and lap as she tries to calm her. My father is gazing off into the distance, a crazed look in his eyes as he keeps repeating he knows what he’s doing. And then there’s me. I’m in shock. I cannot believe that my father would orchestrate such a horrific event. Had it not been for my fast reflexes and getting that door open, we would all be at the bottom of the ocean this very moment. And for what? Why would he do something so heinous to his own family?

  My gaze slowly glides to the tiny head bobbing in the waves, growing smaller with every push of the wind. All I can think is that while my father clearly came up with this idea, the pilot carried out the plan. He purposefully crashed us into the cold ocean, and I’m sure he did it for money. Greedy coldhearted motherfucker.

  I turn my back to the man and place my hand on Michelle’s leg.

  “It’s okay, Georgie.” She pats my forearm. “We’re going to get through this.”

  But we’re in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by miles of deep blue water, and I’m guessing my father made sure that our plane isn’t going to be found.

  He’s mad. We’re all going to die.

  It’s now pitch black, and we have been in this raft for nearly six hours. No one is speaking, and Claire, my injured sister, is passed out. It’s a moment when I begin reflecting on my life and what I might’ve done differently had I known things would end here.

  I sure as hell would’ve stood up to my father, but I never have, and now I’m asking myself why. Where does the wall inside my head come from? I don’t feel weak. I don’t feel stupid or worthless either. Yet that’s not the person I show to the world. I open my mouth, words primed and ready for articulation, but something always snatches them right from my throat. It’s fear, I realize. Fear of everyone turning their heads and looking at me, judging.

  “Careful, Georgie. The world is watching,” I hear my mother’s voice echo inside my head. And maybe they are, but so what? If they stare and disapprove, what will happen? Will the sky fall? Will I shrivel up and die? No. And this is exactly what kills me! I know all this! I know in my heart of hearts that nothing bad will happen if I release my inner Georgie. Yet I can’t bring myself to do it.

  Suddenly, a motor and g
iant spotlight off in the distance catch my attention. It’s a boat heading straight for us.

  “Mom, look!” I point. It’s a moment of pure joy, knowing we’ll be rescued. I just have no idea what my father plans to do. He’s not interested in being saved.

  I’m guessing my mother and Michelle are thinking the same thing because no one is cheering and the tension in the air just spiked.

  I have to push him off the raft. It’s the only way to give everyone else time to get on that boat first and warn the crew what we’re dealing with.

  The boat draws closer, and I prepare to fling myself on him. I’ll go into the water, too, if I have to, but he is not getting on that boat until we’re sure we can contain him somehow. Maybe we’ll leave him in the raft and tow him.

  The boat pulls up to us, and I’m about to leap when my father yells, “What the hell took you so long, huh?”

  A tall, thin man in tattered cutoffs and a white T-shirt tosses my dad a line. “Sorry, sir.”

  This isn’t a rescue. My already freezing body turns ice cold.

  Michelle and I look at my mother, who doesn’t flinch. She simply starts helping secure the raft so we can get Claire onto the small fishing boat. I don’t know for certain, but I’m guessing my mother is biding her time. She is no fool, and like my father, she comes from a long line of callous, calculating people. In fact, our fortune is really my mother’s. My father took over her family’s oil business after they married. He’s grown it into an empire, but we all know it’s because my mother allowed him to take the reins. She didn’t want the long hours and nonstop work. Her speed is shopping, fundraising, and playing tennis with her friends, but make no mistake, she’s equally cunning.

  I am the last to leave the raft, and when I step aboard, my father is pointing a rifle in my direction.

  Oh shit. “Dad! No!” I hold up my hands defensively, sure he’s about to put a bullet in my head. I mean, why not? He’s clearly insane.

  “Georgie, you always were a disappointment, but I’ll make something out of you yet.”

  I look over the tops of my hands as he aims the rifle at the raft and fires.

  Oh. He’s sinking it, I realize.

  He shakes his head at me. “Word of advice, Georgie, if anyone ever points a gun at you with the intent to kill, you don’t hold back. You lunge straight for that barrel, hit it away, and fight. But you never surrender.” He turns and disappears down the dark narrow stairwell below deck.

  This crazy bastard wants to give me life lessons? Surreal. Which is why I can’t shake the feeling that this is all a nightmare and, at any moment, I’ll wake up in an ambulance, discovering I survived a plane crash.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Present Day.

  It’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m due at my brother, Henry’s for lunch. He still tries to find time for family even though he’s been under a ton of pressure studying for finals and preparing for his first year playing pro football. On top of that, he has the media circus to deal with and twenty different companies we’re fighting to keep control of.

  Luckily, he’s not doing any of this alone. Claire is helping with the oil side of things, and Michelle and her husband, Chewy, are managing the PR. Elle, my brother’s new wife, who’s actually a year younger than me, is running everything else, including working with the army of lawyers we’ve retained for the battle. We’ve even teamed up with Henry’s university in Austin and hired half a dozen professors as consultants in the areas of finance, biochemistry, and business management. With them, Elle has been working tirelessly to restructure my family’s empire and transition us into clean energy by 2025. Of course, none of that will happen if we lose in court to my insane father, who is threatening to have his yoga cult take over.

  Totally. Bonkers.

  Even my mother is at a loss because while she’s part owner, it’s in name only. She gave my dad full executive authority years ago, which has become another piece of our messy court battle. Add to that, she’s getting ready to divorce him. First things first though; we all agree the priority is containing my dad.

  I ring the doorbell at my brother’s place, a penthouse in downtown Houston that he uses on the weekends. During the week, while he’s in school, he has an off-campus apartment.

  The door opens, and I look up to see Henry’s boyish smile and glowing green eyes, same color as mine.

  “Is that my little Georgie? I almost didn’t recognize you with the blonde hair.” He lunges forward and captures me in a giant bear hug. “Love the new look.”

  I grunt, feeling a vertebra pop into place. “Ugh. Thanks. Now I can skip the chiropractor.”

  He sets me down. “Get your ass in here. Elle and I have some big news.”

  Ohmygod. They’re pregnant. I just know it.

  I walk inside the apartment that comes complete with floor-to-ceiling windows and a panoramic view of Houston. There’s a terrace with a surround system, hot tub, and outdoor kitchen, where Elle is dancing to music as she flips burgers.

  I set my purse on the marble breakfast bar overlooking the large chef’s kitchen. “Okay. I’m ready. What’s your news?”

  Henry grins, and his smile is infectious. That’s because he is as honest, sweet, and genuine as they come. It’s no wonder he’s fought my father’s strong-arm tactics since the day he was born. Henry never wanted to run the empire, and he made no secret about it. Now he’s so close to achieving his dreams of the NFL that I can’t help thinking he’s my spirit animal of defiance. Plus, he sort of gets me, which is why I can be myself around him even if he treats me like a thing to be protected versus leaned on for support—an issue I’ve created and intend to rectify. After all, no one forced me to be shy.

  “Okay,” he says in that deep Henry voice. “We’ve done it.”

  “What?”

  “We won.”

  I blink, attempting to decipher. “You mean against Dad?”

  He nods. “A judge is signing the warrant to have Dad arrested as we speak. We found the copilot who refused to fly that day, and he will testify how Dad carefully planned your abduction and almost killed Claire in the process. There’s enough evidence to convict him of kidnapping and attempted murder—four counts. They might even try to argue he’s responsible for the death of the pilot, but that’s a stretch.”

  My blood pressure tanks. The pilot. Goddammit. Why did Henry have to remind me? The man was never found, and I’ve spent every day since we returned to civilization trying to forget. No, I did not kill the pilot; however, I was the only one who saw him, and I turned my back. Me. No one else. I let him die, and my biggest regret is that I don’t regret it enough. But any man who’d let a woman and her children die for a little cash doesn’t deserve to live. Am I a bad person for feeling that way? I don’t know.

  “Wow. Dad’s really going to jail?” I take a seat at Henry’s breakfast bar, trying to breathe through my shock. My dad has so many people protecting him, I thought this day would never come.

  “At least until the trial. Then he might end up in some mental institution, but who the fuck cares? He’ll never hurt you guys again, and he sure as fuck won’t ever control Walton Holdings. Now we just have to convince the court to keep us in charge.”

  As the heir, Henry was given temporary control while my father and the rest of us were missing, presumed dead. Now that we’re all alive, we can’t activate the will. Control has to be argued in court and then granted. Sadly, there are a lot of people out there filing disputes so they can be appointed trustees and do things their way, including giving themselves fat bonuses and raises, no doubt. When hundreds of billions of dollars are involved, people will do all sorts of things to get their hands on a piece.

  “So…we still have to fight it out in court,” I conclude.

  “Yes,” Henry replies. “Without hiccups. Not even a disruptive fart. It has to be business as usual.”

  This is so messed up. If our father died, my mother would get full control of their sixty percen
t ownership (we have forty percent). But since he’s alive, the laws get all screwy, especially if the designated trustees are deemed incompetent. It has something to do with the oil companies being highly regulated and of public interest. Our lawyers even said that the court can order a liquidation of Walton Holdings and force us to auction off the companies since so many jobs and lives are at stake.

  “But don’t worry,” Henry adds. “You’ll be fine. I promised I’d always look after you. And I will.”

  I nod. “You’re talking about money.”

  Frowning, he takes the stool next to me at the counter. “The money is for your future, Georgie, and I’m making sure you can do whatever you want with it—no strings attached—which is more than I ever got.”

  He’s right. I know he is. And I’m grateful for this life I have. I won’t ever starve. I won’t ever go unloved. Yet I can’t help wanting more. There’s something sad and empty about living a life where I don’t have the respect of the people I look up to most in this world. Not even after I saved my mother and sisters a few months ago. Because you still act like you’re lucky to eat the scraps from the table. Maybe Abi is right. Brooks is the antidote to my illness. If I can endure him.

  “Thank you, Henry.” I muster a smile. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you and Elle for fighting for us.”

  He leans in, his eyes glossy with emotion. “Are you fucking joking me? I thought you were dead, Georgie. I thought I lost you all. If it weren’t for Elle, I would’ve joined Dad in crazy town.” He takes my right hand between his. “That phone call telling me you were alive was the miracle I’d been praying for.”

  I nod solemnly. “I’m sorry you went through all that.”

  “It doesn’t matter now. You’re safe. So are Mom, Claire, and Michelle. And I will never let anyone hurt you again, Georgie.” He pulls me into his arms and hugs me tightly. “I’ll keep you safe. Always.”

  I’m grateful for my big brother. More than words can say. But at the same time, I’m tired of being a fragile little mouse. I want to help my family and contribute, not be a burden. Especially at a time like this when things are such a mess.