It's Family Business

Chapter 13: Maybe dying in a Bentley wouldn't have been all that bad

Chapter 13|Maybe dying in a Bentley wouldn't have  been all that bad

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    As soon as I left the car all I could do was stand there for a moment, wide eyed, taking in my surroundings.

   We were parked in the middle of an empty car park in the dead of morning.

   Not creepy at all.

   When I decided I didn't want to be kidnapped a second time and was genuinely going to die of frostbite I ran in the direction of my father, who I'd spotted when I got out of the fancy Bentley.

   He'd parked his car a few spaces away, which begrudgingly made me have to run to get to him. Maybe this was a sign from God, telling me I needed to do some exercise.

   In that case, perhaps my health was borderline problematic. Screw that, I'm pretty sure I was going to have to be put on an IV drip or something since my body lacked all the standard vitamins to keep me alive.

   I wasn't vitamin deficient. I was life deficient.

   "Dad!" I cried as I ran into his open arms. For a second I was all about to scream 'daddy!' But then I think I would've puked or just dropped dead out of second hand embarrassment. Society really spoilt that word for me. It was like saying the word moist - it made me all adjfkrehdfghul y'know?

Then I let the tear works start, sobs racking through every inch of my body as I embraced him tightly, smelling the woodsy scent of home. I hadn't meant to have a full breakdown right about now, but I genuinely thought this would be the night I died.

What a stupid way to go, to just randomly pass out in the back of a Bentley. Everyone at school would probably think I was a sugar-baby or something...okay maybe dying in a Bentley wouldn't have been all that bad.

   "Heidi!" He breathed into my hair. "Oh Heidi, you're safe, you're here, you're safe," I didn't let go of him, not for a second as I continued to ruin my badass reputation and cry like a newborn baby.

    I hadn't cried this much since my first boyfriend cheated on me with the academy's first librarian. Long story - no, you haven't got time.

   I gripped tightly onto my dad and craned my neck to meet Double P's scrutiny. His cerulean eyes challenging as we stared at each other. I glared at him with so much hate I thought for a second fire would erupt out of my eye balls.

Then it hit me. "Oh my god! Dad! I-it was him!" I began to hyperventilate as I pointed in Double P's direction. "He almost shot me, and then this other dude came with two friends and was all like, let's tango, but instead he decided to almost kill me too and then Polly pocket over here saved me, just about, and then I fainted-,"

   "Honey, I need you to calm down," my father spoke gently, cupping my cheeks as he made me face him. My eyes were burning with tears and I couldn't help but crumble in his embrace.

   "I almost died dad," My voice came out hoarse and I winced at the pain in my throat. Oh yeah, how could I forget, I was so going to get a happy little choker bruise in the morning. Imagine having to explain that one to my mother.

   "I'm sorry Heidi, I'm so so sorry,"

   I paused, confused at my fathers words. "What? You have nothing to be sorry about,"

   He let go of me and instead faced Cruz, who'd since not said a word and was stood directly besides my father. "Take her home,"

   "What?!" I practically screeched realisation hitting me like a tonne of bricks. He was getting rid of me! He was - what the hell was going on?

    I leached onto my dad's blazer, not caring whether I ripped the stupid thing or not as Cruz grabbed me from behind. "But what about him?!" I shrieked pointedly in Double P's direction. "He was going to kill me! I was going to die and you're not going to do anything about it?!" My frustration was pent up to the max, I couldn't even turn it up anymore. "Call the Police!"

   I'm pretty sure I aced Lava girl on the spectrum of how heated I felt right now. Double P did not say a word as I fought against my cousin. He stood there, taking in all my wrath, silently analysing the situation. I wanted to slap him. Slap that cold, ignorant look off his stupidly handsome face and knee him where the sun don't shine until he can no longer produce babies like stupid little Alfred. Bleh!

   My father did not spare me a glance, but chose to look sorry at the ground. "Go home, Heidi,"

   I didn't care that I looked like a mad woman as I fought to get out of Cruz's arms. I flailed and whacked and punched him, but to no avail his arms around me gripped tighter. He was taking me to the car. My shoes skimming the concrete as Cruz dragged me away from the two men.

   "I hate you!" I screamed, slowly beginning to give in. "I hate you so much!"

   My father turned to look at me then and I kept my heated glare focused on him instead of the expressionless italian behind him, which frustrated me even more.

   What the fuck was happening?

   I almost died and my father was playing bffs with the guy that almost made me see my maker. What kind of shitty soap opera had I woken up too?

   "I'm sorry." Was his gentle comment once again and I scoffed.

   Before I could yell some more or scream murder again, a tiny prick on the side of my neck distracted me enough to forget what I was going to say.

   "Ow," I muttered, placing my hand to cup the small pain that now flared down the entire left side of my neck and face.

   It was Cruz who spoke this time, softly against my temple, arms still secure around my stomach. "I'm sorry, Heidi. I didn't want this to happen, I'm so fucking sorry,"

   Then I realised what he'd done. He'd tranquillised me. He fucking tranquillised me like I was some animal.

   I sagged in his arms, the fire putting out as my vision began to get hazy and obscure. It was even more infuriating that images from all the fun times of my life weren't being produced in a jolly little sequence, like in Madagascar and Alex The Lion could see everything in 4/20 vision from the pink dart that shot his tush.

   I get I wasn't exactly dying, but still...

  I didn't see any happy zebras or giraffes or hippos dancing to Copacabana, there were no maracas or drums playing as I began to loosen up. I couldn't even distinguish whether I was still standing or not as I swayed side to side as if I was walking on water.

   Jesus would be very impressed, but I was still raging. My body was on fury overload as I pathetically began to drift off into dream land.

   But instead of quickly succumbing to the stupid prick (haha punny), I tried to remain focused, in between the dark spots that looked like outer space, I glowered at my dad, hot furious irate tears rolling down my red cheeks and neck as I shot him and Double P one final scathing look.

   "I hate you so much."

   And then I proceeded to pass out for the second time that night.