Darius
There are no lights on in the hallway and the darkness swells around me, big shadows everywhere, as I travel down the stairs, my blankie dragging behind me. Screams are pouring out of the living room, slowly becoming intelligible words. It’s Mommy and Daddy.
“You can’t do this, Frank,” Mommy yells. “Don’t do this to Darius. He needs his mother.”
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“You did this to him, not me,” Daddy roars. “You’re a fucking worthless whore!”
I jump at the ringing of the doorbell, and stay as silent as I can as Daddy rushes to the door and swings it open. Two men in blue uniforms enter the house. Mommy charges out of the living room. She sees me, and I think she’s crying but trying not to.
She’s running to me and then grabs me, squeezing me so tight. Her warm eyes are so scared. “Never forget how much I love you. No matter what you hear. I love you, Darius. I’ll never not love you.”
I scream when she’s ripped out of my arms by the two big men, and I reach for her. “Mommy…”
“No, Darius.” Daddy grabs me, holding my arm so tight it hurts. His hand is cold, his arms not the ones I want to be in.
I struggle to break free. “Mommy,” I scream again as the door slams shut. “Mommy.”
Daddy kneels on the floor, turns me to him. He doesn’t have warm eyes like Mommy. “Your mother doesn’t want you, Darius. She’s gone. Forever.”
He’s so scary, so big. I don’t believe him. But then why did Mommy leave me? “I want Mommy,” I scream.
Daddy shakes me, rattling my teeth. “Did you not hear me, boy? She doesn’t want you. She left us. She’s never coming back.” Daddy becomes blurry and sounds angrier. “We don’t need her. Stop crying right now. Babies cry.”
Then he’s gone, and I’m alone, the shadows in the hallway coming closer.
I shut my eyes, hearing the sounds of my screams in my ears as I travel up the elevator. I don’t struggle in life, but when the doors open at my floor, I realize I am struggling. I exit the elevator at Bennett, Inc., feeling as if I’m drifting, stuck in a memory that came out of nowhere.
One moment I was at home, standing in my bedroom, talking to Ryder on the telephone. The next moment, I was on the floor, gasping for breath, trying to decide if what I remembered actually happened. But if it did, how could my father do that to a child?
Everything I knew I questioned.
When Charlotte sees me approaching this morning, she rises from her desk, mug in hand. “The team from Hoyes Financial and your father are in the meeting room.” She suddenly stops at whatever she sees on my face, watching me carefully. “Sir, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I say, accepting my coffee. “Thank you, Charlotte. Please hold all calls.” But I’m not fine. I’m anything but fine today. The fabric of my world is tearing. I’m no longer choosing to ignore what’s in front of me. I simply can’t, and there are answers I need.
“Of course, sir.” Charlotte accepts the order, sitting back down and answering the ringing phone. “Bennett, Inc., how may I help you?”
I’m stuck there a moment, reminded of what my company stands for. I built this business from nothing, with no help from my father. I’m proud of what it stands for, of what I made it become, considering the tough road I took to achieve it. But as I stand there in the empty hallway, I also remind myself of what I had to give up to gain it.
I take two big sips from my mug, leaving it on Charlotte’s desk to grab later, and I draw in a deep breath, readying myself. I stride forward toward the last door on the left, pulling on the cuffs of my dress shirt beneath my blazer. The more I think about it, and the closer I get to that door, the more I know that I’ve experienced a repressed memory. It sickens me to know what my mother went through. But I’m not that little boy in that hallway anymore. And as I enter the office, I realize it’s about damn time my father knows it.
When all gazes swing in my direction, I move to the head of the large reclaimed-wood conference table, grabbing the back of the leather chair there. “Good morning. Before we begin, I need to speak with my father for a moment.”
Frank’s eyebrows pinch together in clear annoyance that I’m not sitting down and letting this meeting get started. “We’ll be only a moment,” he says to the Hoyes team.
I spin on my heel and lead us into my office. As I stride by Charlotte, I grab my coffee and say to her, “No interruptions, please.”
“Understood, sir,” she says, watching my father warily.
Now I know why, too. I had always thought it was my father’s presence that made people seem uneasy. Not anymore. People don’t trust him in the way they trust me. And for the first time ever it’s because I know they shouldn’t.
I enter my office and wait for my father to enter before I shut the door, then I move to the front of my desk, taking another quick sip of my coffee before placing it down next to my Mac monitor.
“What’s the problem, Darius?” my father asks, stepping in behind the wingback chair.
I considered all the ways to find out the truth from him on the way over to Bennett, Inc. But I decide now to keep it on point. “Did you make up allegations of abuse against my mother to gain custody of me?”