Island Rush (2 page)

“Your mother was stabbed with a knife, which had your brother’s prints.  It was found next to her, and his clothes were smeared with blood.  That’s what we know for now.  We’ll sort this out, and he isn’t going anywhere.  Just calm down.”              

How I responded, I don’t fully recall. I think I kept repeating how he needs to pay, but it was hard to say anything at that point. I was soon lifted and taken into the house while people were still surrounding the scene. My father took me to the bathroom where he hugged me tight as we both slid down the wall to the floor. My sobs ripped through my lips, and he held me, trying to calm me.

Then my life changed with his next words.

“Don’t worry. We will get him out.”

I jerked my head back and stared at him. “W-What? You want him free?”

He laughed.  “Yes. He did the right thing. We both did,” he said softly.

I would never forget the feeling that came over me then. A feeling that told me this wasn’t real.  It just couldn’t be. However, from the reality and clarity of his face and this situation, I knew it was.

I shot up and away from him, but he pulled me down to sit on his lap.  He covered my mouth with his hand gently. “She needed to go. Can’t you see that?”

He killed her too. He helped murder my mother, his wife…

He slowly removed his rough hand, and when he did, he let me run.  But he did so, knowing that I wasn’t running for the door.  Rather, I ran towards the toilet where I threw up.  When I was done and breathing rapidly, he grabbed a towel from behind him on the shower door and pulled me back into his lap roughly.  He wiped what remained on my face. With another deep breath, I was ready to try to scream out again.  Scream out for anyone - for help as I knew there were officers here.

He predicted my move again and said in a fast voice, “Do it and you die, sweetie.”  I wasn’t sure if I could have screamed anyway.  My voice was gone, my cries were not helping, and the shock was just stunning.

Those things along with being unable to process this kept me from screaming.  Despite that, I couldn’t help the tears and sobs.  I couldn’t understand or believe at the time that this was happening to me. Couldn’t grasp that my dad and brother would do this. I wanted to fight him and was even ready to. 

Before I could, though, he slid me closer to his body.  Through this clothes at his hip, I felt something hard. I looked down at the half revealed gun he suddenly had and knew he was dead serious. 

He dipped his head forward more. With his hot breath on my neck, he whispered in my ear.  It sent more chills over me.  “If you fight me or say anything to anyone, I guarantee you will end up just like your mother.  That is a promise no matter what happens to me. You will realize my connections if you go against me. Do you understand?”

I cried harder, and all I could think was how this must be a dream. This wasn’t my father. That wasn’t my brother out there in that car. Yet, I never woke from a dream.

“I understand,” I croaked.

And I did because I
had
to. We left the bathroom, and I didn’t need to hold back my tears.  Just my words. 

Since then, I could never grasp the fact that I would never see her again. I learned how to block all of it from my mind by becoming a tougher person. Someone that hid from emotions when it counted.  I needed to in order to survive. 

I thought of killing my dad myself, but I knew he was right in saying I would die if I somehow rebelled. If not by his hand, someone else he knew. 

I stared at him, back in reality.  That was months ago, even though it was all still fresh in my mind.  Here now stood the man that was dead to me.  From that day, resenting him became automatic. 

He stepped closer to where he pushed me into the corner.  Running a hand roughly through my hair, it forced me to clench my teeth.  Endurance was something I needed to learn how to tolerate.  Endurance was a sick feeling but a safe one.  He gave me a tight glare. “Get the money or you will be punished. He needs to be bailed out.”

I nodded, understanding what would happen if I couldn’t come up with that money. I don’t think that would make him kill me, but it would mean a good amount of pain.

Before I could say anything else, he continued.  “Goodnight, my ‘
baby girl
,”” he said with an extra effort not to slur his words, just to dig the knife deeper.

As he laughed, he stumbled towards my door.  He knew those words would always hurt me. They were my mother’s last words to me, a nickname she gave me when I was little.

She never had stopped calling me that.  From when I was little to the day she died.  Even though I acted as though I hated it, she and I both knew I loved my nickname. It was said by her every night too before heading to bed.  Whether through a hug, a kiss, a laugh, it was always that.  With her bright eyes full of love, she would always say that.  “Goodnight my baby girl.”  It was the last thing she said to me. 

That was months ago. Now, tonight as I lay in my bed, I looked to my father. The same father that had smiled fondly at me back then.  He changed, even if in some twisted way he still did care.  He flashed me a true smile before leaving my room for the night.  It made me sigh in relief.  As soon as he left, I made my thoughts shift to anything else as I drifted off to sleep. 

Chapter 2

When I walked into Mr. Rush’s room the next day, his eyes automatically found mine from where he sat behind his desk.  He had a worried expression on his face too.  I had a good idea why.

At the beginning of the school year, I was like everyone else. I tried my best as I always did at my school work. I was actually an all A student. That was before my mom’s death and the awful truth I found behind it.  I changed. I started slacking, and I stopped respecting my teachers. I just no longer cared. My dad promised me I wouldn’t have a future without him, and I knew I wasn’t going to college. I didn’t have any hope when it came to my education.  It was around that time that Mr. Rush started paying more attention to me.  For whatever reason, it never went away.

Students finished filing in just before the bell rang, signaling the start of class.  A few seconds later, Mr. Rush moved up in front of the room and looked out to his students as he began speaking.  “Alright guys,” he said, pursing his lips. “We have a lot to get through today, so I will jump into the lesson plan in a moment. First, I want to talk about the upcoming trip. I received an email this morning from the English department, asking to address details.”

Everyone sure became focused after hearing him say that.  I watched and listened with attentive eyes as he explained.  “Each of you will be part of a group of eight.  In each group, there will be either a teacher or chaperone to keep everything organized and in check.” As he explained, I looked him over with annoyed eyes. He stood straight and never faltered. I caught him looking at me more than usual as he addressed the class. “You will be assigned randomly into these groups. Now, that group is responsible for choosing ahead of time what they want to do with the time they are given to explore different attractions. What is not an option is straying from the group.  Curfew remains the same.  Also, don’t bother trying to sneak alcohol because you will often be checked and be supervised at all times.”

He walked slowly down the rows of our desks, expressing with his hands as he continued to speak. “Some of the places you must attend. As you know, we will all collectively go to different attractions.  Every night, there is an optional dinner with the entire junior class.  So remember to bring formal clothing as well.  Also, when you are escorted back to your rooms, according to the hotel, there are no TVs.  It helps because you will be expected to get enough rest for how early you are to be up the next day.” He made it to the front of the room again and turned to face us.  “In a few days, there will be a brief assembly going over specifics about everything else.  For now, though, any questions?”

A girl from across the room raised her hand. “Will we be allowed to take our cameras?”

He nodded. “Yes. However, Mr. Howard put me in charge of the yearbook photos. So you don’t have to bring a camera if you would be satisfied with the ones in the yearbook.”

I wanted to laugh because it was plain on his face just how ‘enthusiastic’ he was about the principal putting him on picture duty. He really did not look excited with how blank and dull his expression was.   

We got into the lesson plan after we were done talking about the trip. Which meant discussing the book that he assigned us to read for class.  It was a boring hour, like usual.  When the bell rang, I grabbed my books, heading towards the door. Before I could leave for my math class, Mr. Rush’s voice rang through the air. “May I have a word with you, Janice?”

I turned to him and smirked. “Your eyes just can’t get enough of me, Mr. Rush?”

A few chuckles came but were soon gone as the door shut and we were alone. My comment didn’t affect him as he shook his head in disappointment.  A second later, though, a few students came in and took their seats as his next class, along with mine, was about to start.

“Actually, do you think you can come by after school? It’s rather important.”

I was about to say, ‘even more alone time with you,’ but stopped.  His eyes turned so serious, I had to look away. I simply nodded and left for my next class.

When the final bell rang, ending the school day, I made my way to his room.  I couldn’t stop wondering what it was he wanted to talk about. 

By the time I was standing outside his door, he was already there and opened it for me, allowing me into his quiet room.  I felt the tension in the air between us instantly.

The man sighed and ended up grabbing an extra chair to drag behind his desk. I stared, knowing what he wanted was for me to sit.  Instead, I just stood there and waited.  I was enjoying this rare occurrence of him out of his comfortable state. He made his way to his own chair behind his desk and sat, looking up towards me by the door.  “Would you please sit down?”

I smirked and made my way to his desk and sat in the chair he pulled up for me.  Turning his chair so we were now facing each other, he looked hesitant to say anything. So I was the first to speak.

“You know, you have really been creeping me out lately, and I need to be somewhere soon,” I said at his constant silence.

“I know,” he whispered as he leaned forward, searching my eyes. “Your job. You’re asking for a raise today.”

It wasn’t a question.  His eyes asked for understanding but… understanding for what?  How could he know that I was going to be asking for a raise today?  “How did you know—?”

I abruptly stood, realizing why his stares started to feel more intense lately.  Why his whole expression when he looked at me would change. Yesterday, it really intensified when I came to grab my phone after school. He appeared shaken up from that point to now.

He knew. He read my texts. They were all there.

I acted without even thinking. I took a step towards where he was sitting and slapped his beautiful face.  He looked at me with lips slightly parted, shocked that I did that.

“You read my messages?!  Do you have any idea what you have done to me?” I hissed in a hard breath, completely forgetting this was my teacher.  Instead, I remembered all those terrible threats my dad made if anybody were to find out my secret.

How could he have done this? How did I deserve this? Could Mr. Rush even legally do that?  And why the hell would he read my text messages to begin with? I didn’t think I bothered him
that
much.

It was not my lucky day today.  On cue, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and it made my eyes snap at attention to my teacher. I didn’t know if he went to the cops yet. If he did, I could literally be dead.

His hard gaze found my pocket then looked back up to my eyes.  With persistence and a goal in that gaze too. I knew he wanted to know more answers.  I knew he also wanted to see my phone at that exact second. It didn’t help that my heart was pounding. After all, I just slapped the dude.

“I can imagine that’s your father, isn’t it?” he asked in a hard voice, eyes narrowing on mine. All I wanted to do was run and make the door my destination.  I might have done it too if I didn’t just step out of line and smack him in the face.  Even more so, I might have ran if I knew he wouldn’t go to the police.

“Yeah,” I said, and I could feel my entire body tense up.

He nodded curtly, staring up at me from where he was sitting.  He had no more tolerance.  “Sit down,” he said with a stern voice.  A voice so on edge.  It turned him into someone with dreams and opinions. Feelings.  I never heard him speak like that before. Seeing me sit down now, I could tell he felt much more at ease and in control. To be honest, though, I was more surprised he didn’t do more after I slapped him. 

“Listen, I know that if I took this to the cops, you would be in trouble—” he started.

“No, asshole! Killed. I would be killed,” I gaped.

His eyes closed tightly and he flinched.  He didn’t look surprised, though.  Because that’s right, he already knew that little fact.  “I don’t appreciate the language, Janice.”

“I don’t care! Shit, damn, bitch. I’m not a child and should not be treated like one. You read the texts, you know.”

“Yes, and that is why the cops should know about this. I would have already gone to the police if I didn’t know that it wouldn’t help,” he shook his head.  From that… it sounded like he had a good idea what I was going through.

“What do you know?”

“I know your father is a sick human being.  He hurts you and is very abusive.  I know he has done other awful things, but I don’t know what.” When he said that, he paused, getting a hold of himself.  Another strange and surreal sight… him actually appearing like he was going to lose his cool.  He continued after a deep breath.  ”I know your brother is in jail, and your father is forcing you to help get the money to bail him out. If you don’t help, he will hurt you. He’s threatened to kill you.” His breath picked up, and he had to look away. “I read about his friends and connections, which is the only reason I haven’t gone to the police,” he said, almost whispering. He was clearly conflicted over that.

When he didn’t continue like I expected him to, I felt relief wash over me.  Well, he didn’t know they both killed my mother. I guess there was nothing detailing that in my text messages. Thank God.

However, I still felt incredibly nervous.  Especially when he mentioned the police. Just he bringing that up put me on edge.  Regarding everything else he said… I didn’t know how to reply.  He was right on everything he read.

“Yeah, what do you want me to say?  It's happening and has been. It’s nothing I can’t handle.  I know that sounds stupid, but it’s true.”

“‘Nothing I can’t handle?’ Are you serious?” He shook his head and spoke in disgust.  “I couldn’t stop reading those messages over and over. Couldn’t get it through my head that this was actually happening to you.  He said some really sick things to you.”

I sighed. “He tries to scare me a lot of the time. He enjoys it.”  So strange… I couldn’t believe I was actually talking to this stiff about my situation.  Not like I had a choice.  He knew, and I couldn’t take that away from him.

After a long pause, I continued.  Evenly looking at him, I stressed my words. “You are not going to the cops, right?  I need to make sure you won’t, even though you haven’t yet and said you understand why you can’t.” 

Mr. Rush realized that he just couldn’t because of my dad’s connections. That didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted to. I could see it in his eyes. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I want to know about your father’s connections and check with you about it.  Because I want to go to the police but need to know more about these connections.”

I shook my head before he could continue. “No. You can’t. Thank God, you didn’t,” I said, needing to explain.  “It doesn’t matter if my dad is locked away or not.  He will still have a way of taking me down.  I will be killed if he ends up in prison.”

“That’s what I don’t understand.  How?”

I groaned.  Why couldn’t my explanation have been enough?  “He has friends in very… high up places I guess you could say.  They have his back.” That was all I wanted to tell him. I really did not want to tell this dude any more than I had to.  “If you go to the cops, I am literally dead.  So please don’t. I will be eighteen soon. I can get through this then I am leaving. No big deal.” That was a lie. I only just turned seventeen. Plus, dad would never let me leave with all I knew. Mr. Rush only had a fraction of the facts and he was lucky with just that. “Please trust me.  I will be fine without the cops.”

He sat and pondered over something. “Why is your brother in jail?  He killed somebody, didn’t he?”

“You read the other texts?”

“One of the messages just mentioned the knife he used for something. That was my worst assumption.”

“Well, yes he did.  But that isn’t important right now.  All you need to know is that I will be fine. Trust me.”

I waited, and he nodded. “Fine,” he said with that stone face again.  “However, you need to - and therefore
will
- tell me if anything happens.”

I nodded but knew it was a lie. I couldn’t get him involved anymore. It hurt a bit too because he actually cared or seemed to anyway.  But I would not and could not, share anymore with him.

“Can I go now? I need to get to my job.”

His features were those of anger, sadness, worry, and curiosity. “Yeah. Just be careful. It sickens me to know what I know and that I’m not doing anything about it right now.”

I felt guilt wash through me. “This has been going on for a while. Please don’t worry about it,” I said as we walked to the door. He opened it for me, but before leaving, I turned and faced him.  I know I was being paranoid, but I had to push once more.  I needed to feel safe with him knowing this.  “Don’t go to the cops, got it?”

“Yes! I heard you,” he growled, annoyed at what he was doing. He didn’t want the reminder, and I understood.

I started to walk away when he grabbed my arm, stopping me. Along with rare features, another one crossed him as I stared up at him: unexpected shock. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Um, I just want to know this. What does ‘my baby girl’ mean? It was in a lot of the texts and stressed enough to where it must mean something.”

He felt me tense under his arm, and he raised his eyebrow. Dad added that name in there while texting me sometimes.  It made me flinch a lot of the time, but sometimes it just annoyed me.  “Nothing important.”