The Lion Tamer

Chapter Five: Nevermind, Father

Father was belligerent. It seemed that the more I'd done to fix the problem, the worse it got. Clearly, he'd been drinking again. His face was flushed and his eyes glassy, and every now and then he swayed on his feet. Father had immediately called his lawyers, who had used words like "slander" and "entrapment". It was absolutely incredible to believe that no one would believe my story; that no one, even my own father, believed that Gunther Bradbury had tried to assault me. It seemed that even a confession from the source wasn't enough to vindicate me of those false arson allegations.

"You can't just go around recording people without their CONSENT, Kendra!" My father boomed. "Do you have any idea what his legal team can do with this!? Who else has this information!?" Father grabbed my arms now and shook me, and for the first time in my life, I was truly afraid he might hurt me. As difficult as my father could be, he'd never laid hands on me, not like this.

"No one else," I admitted quietly. He seemed to relax then, comfortable in the knowledge that his daughter's assault could still be swept under the rug. I couldn't stop the tears from spilling over, as the realization hit me that it didn't matter what proof I gave him, how plausible the story was, or the source from which it had come, my father chose not to believe my story, because it had been most convenient not to.

I jerked away from his grasp, my sorrow turning into palpable anger, one I could nearly taste.

"That's it then," I accused venomously. "Nevermind that that bastard tried to RAPE ME!" I screamed, turning and grabbing one of his beloved crystal tumblers and hurling it across the room. He startled, never expecting the outburst from his good daughter, the one he'd accused of arson only days ago.

"Never mind that I've taken the initiative to investigate this myself because no one- including my own father- would believe me when I reported it! Let us just ignore the fact that he has continued to harass me, pushing nails into my tires and posting disgusting things about me on social media, and provoking others to harass me, too! Never mind, father! You have a business deal to protect!"

He stood there gaping as I tore out of the room, volatile and distraught. I could almost grant my father forgiveness for having not believed me to begin with. I could allow him his speculative approach to the matter, not having the proof a man like him required. I could not forgive him for willfully choosing to deny me, even with the proof I'd given him. He'd had the audio recording, and the eyewitness accounts of his friends and business associates at the club, and still none of it mattered. Gunther could make me disappear tomorrow and my father would make some excuse, bury his head in the sand, and probably use it to propel his career.

I slammed my bedroom door, a childish maneuver, but one I'd decided to indulge in. I grabbed my duffel bag from my closet and began stiffing clothing and other essential items into it. The house, the wealth, the employees meant nothing, because in the end I was alone. People like Gunther would always get away with their bad deeds, because people like my father permitted it. I grabbed the stack of cash I'd kept saved in the bottom drawer of my jewelry box, counted it, and then stuffed it in my jeans pocket. I scooped Minkin up and buried my face in his fur, apologizing for leaving him behind. Life on the road was no kind of life for a cat, especially one as pampered as he was. I couldn't even promise to return for him, so this was goodbye.

Minkin purred, oblivious to the significance of our final exchange, and I took a final look at the bedroom I'd lived in for twenty-two years, closing the door on my past.