CHAPTER 5: THE CORNERED RAT
Jason was running out of time. His fraud trial was scheduled for the following Monday. His lawyers had already told him he was looking at three to five years in a federal facility.
Desperate men do stupid things. And Jason was the most desperate of them all.
I was walking out of the local grocery store, carrying a single bag, when a hand violently grabbed my arm. I spun around. It was Jason.
He looked terrible. Unshaven, his eyes bloodshot, smelling heavily of cheap alcohol and fear.
"You need to drop the charges," Jason demanded, his grip tightening painfully on my jacket. "You have the money. You have the house. You won. Just tell the prosecutor it was a misunderstanding."
I didn't panic. I didn't scream. I looked down at the hand holding my arm, and then looked him dead in the eye.
"Let go of me," I said. The tone of my voice was so absolute, so entirely devoid of fear, that he actually flinched. He slowly released his grip, holding his hands up defensively.
"I'm sorry," Jason pleaded, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry, okay? I was stupid. Chloe manipulated me. Your mother pressured me. I didn't want to hurt you. I loved you."
I actually laughed. A genuine, bitter laugh that echoed across the parking lot.
"You didn't love me, Jason," I said. "You loved my father's bank accounts. You just hated the fact that you had to pretend to care about me to get to them."
"Please," he begged, tears spilling down his face. "I'll do anything. I can't go to prison. I won't survive in there."
"Then you shouldn't have forged federal documents," I replied coldly.
May you like
I turned my back on him and unlocked my car. "If you ever come near me again," I promised over my shoulder, "I won't just let the prosecutor handle you. I will hire my own legal team to make sure you never see the outside of a cell again."
He stood in the parking lot, completely broken, watching his final lifeline drive away.
