Chapter 4 - DUST AND CONCRETE
By ten-thirty that morning, the grand driveway of the Houston mansion looked like an eviction scene from a cheap movie.
Two security guards I had hired through Marcus stood near the open wrought-iron gates, monitoring every movement my mother and sister made as they dragged two battered suitcases down the front steps.
Valerie was crying hysterical, angry tears as she threw her suitcase into the trunk of a cheap rental sedan she had been forced to order on her own credit card. The shiny black Mercedes-Benz she had driven for three years sat parked in the center of the driveway, its keys resting on the hood alongside the registration documents she had just been forced to sign over.
My mother stood on the bottom step, holding a small plastic bag filled with her basic toiletries. She looked small, old, and completely stripped of the high-society grandeur she had spent five years constructing with my money.
I walked down the steps toward them, holding a small manila folder in my hand.
"Julian," my mother begged, taking a weak step toward me, her eyes red and swollen. "Please... just give us enough for a small apartment... how are we supposed to live? Valerie's job at the boutique doesn't pay enough for rent..."
"You have two working hands, Carmen," I said, stopping five feet away from her. "You can work, just like I did in the desert. You can clean houses. You can cook meals. You can live on what you earn instead of what you steal from a child's mouth."
I opened the manila folder and pulled out two plane tickets.
"These are two one-way tickets to Ohio," I said, handing them to her. "To your sister’s house. She knows everything that happened. She said you can stay in her basement if you work off your board."
Valerie turned around, her face twisted in rage. "Ohio?! A basement?! You're sending us to live like peasants?!"
"It's better than a prison cell, Valerie," I replied, looking her straight in the eye until she looked away. "If I ever see your car near this neighborhood, or if you ever try to contact Lira through social media, phone, or mutual acquaintances, Marcus will file the criminal indictment within ten minutes. You will spend your thirties in a state penitentiary."
Valerie didn't answer. She slammed the trunk of her rental car, got into the driver's seat, and started the engine with a violent roar.
My mother looked at me one last time, her lips trembling, waiting for some sign of hesitation, some tiny shred of the obedient son who used to wire her his entire paycheck without asking questions.
She found nothing in my eyes.
Slowly, heavily, she got into the passenger seat of the rental car and pulled the door shut.
The rental car accelerated down the long driveway, passing through the iron gates and out into the main road, its red taillights disappearing into the morning traffic until they were completely gone.
I stood alone on the driveway for a long time, listening to the quiet wind rustling through the oak trees lining the street.
The house behind me was massive, quiet, and clean. The parasites had been purged, the debts had been calculated, and the blood that had lied to me for five years was finally gone. But as I turned around and looked at the grand brick facade, I realized the house meant nothing to me.
May you like
It was just stone, concrete, and white marble.
I walked back up the steps, through the front entrance, and went looking for the only real family I had left.
