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Authors: NOIRE,Kiki Swinson

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BOOK: Lifestyles of the Rich and Shameless
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Eric pushed the phone in my face. “Talk ... cry ... whatever you gotta do,” he whispered harshly.
I could not fucking believe him! I pushed his hand away from me. I was not about to speak to her. He had not talked to me about this. I was mouthing the word “no.” I absolutely refused to speak to her.
Eric pushed the phone back toward me and he pulled a pistol from his waistband and placed it up to my head. He left me no other choice. I swallowed hard and opened my mouth right away.
“Mommy!” I cried into the phone.
“Oh, my God! Megan! Are you all right? Where is your father?” my mother screamed into the phone.
It was kind of heart wrenching to hear her so distraught. Eric positioned the gun at my temple and urged me to keep talking.
“Mommy, listen to me! You have to do what they say. You have to pay them,” I said with urgency. It was real because I had a gun pointed at my head. I needed her to understand what she had to do. I also needed Eric to believe that I was still on his side. He was losing it.
“Megan! How did this happen? Where are you? What did you do!” she screamed into the phone. All of a sudden shit changed. Just like with everything, she was blaming me. She just couldn’t for once keep her finger from pointing at me. My mother’s accusatory tone made me angry.
“Just give them what they want! Give them the money or else you will lose us. We will be dead by tomorrow,” I said, and then I dropped the phone. I didn’t have anything else to say and I didn’t care if Eric was pissed. He gave me a look and then he picked up the phone and put the disguiser back on.
“Bitch, if you think this is a joke you will be burying your whole family!” Eric boomed into the phone. “You have one hour to call back and I will tell you a drop-off for the cash. Call the police and everybody dies ... including you!” he threatened. Then he slammed down the phone. He started pacing again and rubbing his chin. It was clear that Eric had the same ominous feeling that I had about this whole thing.
“Yo, E man ... you already stayed on the fuckin’ phone way too long with that bitch. If she did go to the cops they done traced that fuckin’ call a long time ago,” one of Eric’s goons told him. We had never even considered that. Thinking back to my mother’s voice, it did sound kind of fake. But you could never tell with her. Just like most of her body parts, everything about Priscilla Rich was fake.
Eric was quiet. He seemed like he was contemplating what his boy had just told him. Eric started pacing even faster and rubbing his chin even more vigorously. He was clearly thinking, deciding what to do next. Shit wasn’t going as smoothly as we had planned. If Eric had stuck to the ransom amount I had told him to ask for, none of this would be happening. Whatever the outcome of this whole thing was, it would be on him.
“A’ight, motherfuckers think I’m a motherfuckin’ joke around here. It’s all or nothing for me now. If the cops gonna trace calls and come, what do I have to fuckin’ lose,” Eric grumbled. He stormed out of the room we were in and rushed back into the room where my father was being held.
I looked at his friend strangely. Neither of us knew what Eric would try to do next. But we were both clearly thinking that it couldn’t be anything good. We gave each other a telling look and it seemed we moved at the same time. We followed behind Eric right on his heels. Nobody expected what Eric did next.
“Yo, E man, calm down. We just need to sit tight. I wasn’t telling you about the trace to get you all fucked up. I just want you to be careful, my niggah,” Eric’s friend tried to smooth things over.
Eric would hear nothing of it. “Y’all must think I’m a fuckin’ joke,” he mumbled under his breath. He walked over to my father and snatched the blindfold off my father’s eyes. This surprised us all. Most of all it surprised me! Up until then my father didn’t know who had snatched him up. If Eric was chancing my father seeing his face, it could only mean one thing to me... . He planned on killing him at some point.
“You want to see who took you for ransom? Huh? You want to see who set you up?” Eric said, as he grabbed my father’s head and jerked it in my direction.
I just closed my eyes and my knees buckled. My father squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light. Then he whirled his head around looking from face to face until he spotted mine. His eyes immediately took on a worried look. “Megan? Are you all right, baby? Did they hurt you?” he asked with genuine concern on his face. My father thought that they had taken me as well. Little did he know, I was a culprit just like the rest of them. I was frozen, rendered speechless. I couldn’t believe what Eric was doing.
“Is she all right? Do she look like she is tied up like you? Do she look like anybody is holding her against her fuckin’ will?” Eric asked, his words dripping with venom. He started laughing, that cackling, crazy man laugh he’d been doing lately. “She is the one who set you the fuck up! Damn old man, I had given you more credit than that. Y’all rich people are some dumb motherfuckers, ain’t y’all,” Eric retorted, smiling wickedly as he saw my father’s eyes drop low when he revealed my dirty deeds.
My legs finally gave out and I collapsed. “Daddy,” I whispered. It was all I could muster up. I was on my knees as if I were begging my father for mercy, to forgive me. My father looked at me and his eyes were so sad. They were pleading, like he wanted me to say that Eric was lying, that it was all a lie, that I would never do anything like that to him.
“Megan ... is ... is ... that true?” he asked me.
I put my head down and burst out crying. “Daddy, why couldn’t you just give me the money? Why did you have to throw me away? You did all of this to me! This is all your fault!” I screamed out. I was flipping it back on him. It was my defense mechanism. One I had learned so long ago as a child. I was so accustomed to always making my parents feel like anything that I did was their fault. I really didn’t mean to blame him or my mother, but I didn’t know any other way to explain how their own daughter could participate in something so horrendous.
“Yeah, Daddy, why the fuck don’t you tell your little wifey to give up the money. I’m asking for three million for your safe return.... She is acting like y’all motherfuckers don’t have it,” Eric said, getting up close to my father’s face.
My father flexed his jaw. I could tell he was growing angry. He was probably most angry at me. “Fuck you! You little street punk! I have people that would cut your balls off and feed them back to you. You have to keep me tied up... . You have to exploit a young girl and her family for money because you come from nothing. You are probably the product of a whore’s pussy,” my father spat, and let a wad of spit fly out of his mouth into Eric’s face.
Eric jumped back, caught off guard. He used his hand to wipe the spit from his face. He curled his face into a deep snarl. I shuddered because I knew what was coming next. Eric was very sensitive about his upbringing. My father had crossed the line. I was suddenly propelled into action. I knew I had to try to save my father from Eric’s wrath.
“Daddy, no! Please! Just be quiet,” I begged. My father kept saying shit about Eric. He was talking about Eric’s manhood and telling him he was a joke. I knew how violent Eric could get when he felt emasculated. I raced over and tried to come between Eric and my father. Eric pushed me out of the way, and I went flying to the floor like a lifeless rag doll. His boys just stood watching. They didn’t want to get involved.
Eric stormed over to my father and punched him in the face so hard my father crumpled down to the floor. Blood squirted from his nose and some shot on the wall.
“Eric, please!” I screamed, scrambling up off the floor. It was too late. I couldn’t make it over to him in time. Eric could not be stopped. He stood over my father like a looming black cloud. Slap! Punch! Crack! Kick! Over and over again he hit and kicked my father.
“Yo, son, you gon’ kill the niggah and then we ain’t gonna get no fuckin’ money!” one of Eric’s cronies warned. Even they had had enough of watching the assault.
“Shut the fuck up!” Eric spat. He didn’t care anymore. I could see it in his eyes, he had lost it. He took a gun out of his waistband. “Anybody that wants some of this right here can fuckin’ get it. You either with me, or against me,” Eric barked. His brown face had turned almost purple from all of the blood that had rushed into it. There were veins popping out on his forehead and from his neck. He looked like the Incredible Hulk when he was about to change.
“A’ight, niggah, but I’m out of here,” the dude said, holding his hands up in surrender and starting for the door.
Eric ran up to him and put the gun to his head. “No fuckin’ body leaves here until I get my fuckin’ money. I don’t trust none of y’all motherfuckers right now! Everybody seem like they getting the case of the pussies up in here. Get the fuck back over there,” Eric barked.
The man followed Eric’s orders. The other three men that were with him just kept quiet after that. Eric obviously wielded a lot of fucking power.
My father was moaning on the floor and I couldn’t look at him. Eric wasn’t finished. My father had dissed him and he was hell-bent on making sure that my father paid for that.
“Now back to you, rich guy. You wanted to spit in my face like I’m trash. I came from a whore’s pussy, huh? Yeah, maybe you’re right.... I’m going to show you how the product of a whore’s pussy really acts. I’m going to show you how much of a street thug I am. You would feed my balls to me ... let me show you how,” Eric growled as he lifted up his foot and kicked my father square in his balls.
“Agghh!” my father let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Eric laughed. “Maybe you should have somebody cut your balls off now,” he said.
“Eric, please!” I screamed out.
Eric just ignored me. He stood over my father and I thought he would hit him again. It was a mess. Instead, Eric hoisted my father up by his shoulders from the back. His hands were still bound so he was defenseless. Eric placed my father in a chair. He could barely sit, his body was wilting. He probably had broken ribs by now. My father looked delirious. I could see that his face was starting to swell and blood was all over his nose and mouth. Eric hit him again. This time blood squirted out of his mouth.
“Eric, please!” I cried again. But my pleas fell on deaf ears.
Eric pulled out his track phone and began dialing a phone number. He listened for a minute and then he went over to my father again. Eric forcefully lifted my father’s downturned head. “Lift ya head up, motherfucker. Niggah, you better start begging that fake-ass plastic surgery queen of a wife of yours. You better tell that bitch to get on the good foot with this loot,” Eric said, placing the phone up to my father’s ear.
“Priscilla ...” my father moaned. He could barely speak as blood filled up in his mouth. My father took a deep breath as he fought the pain so he could talk. “Shhh, calm down. I am all right. Megan was the one behind this. Her and her little street piece of shit boyfriend. Don’t give them shit, Priscilla. This is my hard-earned money. Call the police!” my father called out before Eric snatched the phone away.
I just closed my eyes and shook my head. What a stupid thing to do.
“That’s it, you motherfucker! You better pray your wife is not as stupid as you are!” Eric boomed. Then he hit my father with the butt of his gun.
“Ugghh!” my father shrieked, falling over out of the chair. A huge gash opened up on his head as his skin busted wide open. Eric hit him again with the gun. This time I could swear I heard bone cracking. Eric’s cohorts were even closing their eyes. My father lay in a heap, now even more bloody than before, and that’s when Eric stomped on him. “Ohhh!” my father wheezed as Eric kicked him in the side again. My father suddenly went still. His head was bleeding profusely. I had had enough. I couldn’t stand by and let this happen. I thought Eric had beaten him to death.
Blood, there was so much blood everywhere. It was clouding my vision. And the smell. It was so strong and overwhelming. The smell was one I could never forget
.
“Aggghhh!” I screamed as my body moved involuntarily. I didn’t even realize I was jumping up and down. The sight in front of me was ghastly and I thought I would go into shock. I had stood by and done nothing and now I was going to pay for it. We were going to pay dearly for it, I should say.
“Megan, shut the fuck up! If you scream again it’s over! I put a bullet in his ass and end this whole shit,” Eric yelled at me. His face was contorted into a scowl I had never seen him wear before. One of his fists was clenched tightly and his other hand gripped a gun so hard that his knuckles were pale. I knew he meant business, so I tried to obey his demands. I clasped my hands over my mouth, trying to keep the screams in. It didn’t work. As I looked down again, trying to muffle a scream proved futile. I was brimming with emotion. This whole shit was out of control now.
“What did you do?” I belted out through wracking sobs. I could feel my face swelling from all of the crying I had been doing. There was blood everywhere—on the floor, on the table, some had even squirted on the wall. It was clear that my father needed medical attention and fast. I stared at the almost lifeless form in front of me. Things had gone terribly wrong. Eric had gone berserk punching and kicking and hitting. It was supposed to be easy. There wasn’t supposed to be any violence involved, just a snatch, grab, and collect. “Oh God, Eric ... What did you do?” I hollered again.
BOOK: Lifestyles of the Rich and Shameless
7.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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