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Chapter 33
It was five thirty, and Drake and Jessica were sitting at Debbie’s bedside. Debbie had just finished picking at her dinner.
“Baby, you should eat some more. You need to keep up your strength,” Jessica mumbled.
“Oh, Ma, that’s not food. It’s a science experiment, and lunch wasn’t that much better,” Debbie said with a deep frown. “Daddy, can’t you get me a cheeseburger with mayo?”
“Sweetheart, the doctor doesn’t want you to eat anything greasy for a while,” Drake said solemnly.
“You two seem down about something. I thought the doctor said that I was going to be okay,” Debbie said.
“You are, honey,” Jessica said quickly. “It’s just . . . we have something to tell you, and we don’t know how to . . . tell you.”
Debbie looked at her and then she looked at Drake.
“You know I love you, don’t you, Debb
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It had been an hour and a half since Debbie’s break down. The staff had let Jessica and Drake look in on her only once during that time. They were limiting her visitors until she woke up and a child psychiatrist had a chance to speak with her. Jessica didn’t like it, but she knew that it was best for Debbie. Jessica didn’t want her daughter to be traumatized for the rest of her childhood. She and Drake hoped it was just an outburst of frustration and nothing deeper had taken root because of the truth. Jessica was in the hospital chapel alone. Drake and her parents had gone to the cafeteria. All of a sudden, Yvonne Michelson sat next to her in the pew. Jessica didn’t even hear
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Jessica had left. Bobby stepped to Charles. They were eye to eye. Neither one of them blinked. “If I had seen you fourteen years ago right after I found out she was pregnant, I would have busted yo ass. Job or no job,” Bobby said darkly. “Now that you know that you’re a father, I’m sure you understand.” He understood. If some guy got Debbie pregnant, he would shoot him in the face. “I do. But I hope you know that I was in love with her. It wasn’t a one-night stand. I love her still, and I told her so.” Bobby’s thick eyebrows rose. “What’d she say?” &
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Debbie quickly trotted down the sidewalk in Manhattan with the coat that she stole out of the maintenance closet and the boots that were two sizes too big for her feet. However, she was still cold. The hospital gown was not made for cold weather. She had found ten dollars in the coat. She was saving it for food. She had plenty of cash stashed in her bedroom at home, but she didn’t have her house keys to get in. She had always saved ten dollars from her allowance in case of emergencies since she was nine. Debbie wasn’t sure where she was going. All she knew was that she wanted to get out of there. They were all getting on her last nerve. She needed her space, not drugs.Luckily the sedative had worn off while no one was in the room. Despite the fact that she was groggy, she had rummaged through the drawers and found gauze and
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After Charles had carried an unconscious Jessica to a hospital room for the nurse to examine her, he walked with Drake and Bobby to the hospital employees’ elevator. The maintenance guy had said he had never seen anything like it. Debbie had pried the panel off the wall and rewired the elevator to do what she wanted it to do. “It’s sloppy, but they got the job done,” the maintenance man had said. Security had a camera in the elevator. Everyone’s mouths had dropped open when they saw Debbie enter the elevator with a coat and boots on. She had looked half dead on her feet. She got off in the employee garage. Three security officers along with Bobby, Drake, and Charles had searched the garage, and there was no sign of her.
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Debbie’s head fell forward. Charles quickly caught her in his arms. She was out like a light. He pulled the side of her shirt up. Blood had soaked the large gauze that covered where she was shot. The other gauze where she had surgery was starting to bleed, too. “Calvin!” he yelled frantically. The door swung open. Calvin dashed over to him. “What happen?” “She passed out. Calvin, she’s burning up, and she’s bleeding,” he explained as he adjusted his hold on her. “We have to get her back to the hospital.” They were back in the Range Rover within minutes. His unco
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Three months later. . . The living perpetrators who were responsible for the mass shooting at Michelson Investments on Madison Avenue were captured eight weeks ago. Their trials would start in two months. They were sitting in the city jail without bond. Calvin had been right. They shot up the place and everyone they could out of some sort of entitlement of justice for losing their jobs.The Michelsons and the Washingtons sat in the spectator seating in the courtroom. Charles, Jessica, and Debbie sat at a table several feet away from the bench. Arthur Whitman had just finished his petition to the court to have Debbie’s last name legally changed.Jessica had filed an application to change Debbie’s birth certificate to state that Charles was her father. But in the state of the New York, they had to
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It was Saturday evening when Charles walked past the threshold of the Michelson estate. He had on a black tux. His thick, brown, curly hair was slicked down with gel to keep it under control. “Good evening, Mr. Michelson,” Joseph, the butler, greeted. “Evening, Joseph,” Charles said with a wide grin. He took off his coat and white scarf and handed them to Joseph. “I take it that everyone is here already. The valets were just milling about when I pulled up.” The party had started a half hour ago. Charles was purposely late to events like this. He didn’t have the patience to listen to opening speeches stating how much money was needed to be raised and who was sponsoring the event.“Most of the guests have arrived, sir,&
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