He Was Duressed, Your Honor

Chapter 12

Poe walked out of the police station with his hands shaking. It could have gone worse, but he knew that it definitely could have gone much better. He could have not offered the damn DNA sample when they asked. But if he had refused that would have made him seem more guilty and...

He did his best to shake all of the thoughts out of his head. 

Jun's words echoed in his head to cut all communication with Memphis, but for as strained as tensions were in that moment, all he wanted was his family to make him feel better. Poe reached into his pocket and shot a quick text to Memphis, letting her know about the situation with the police and trying to tell her anything that might get her to respond. Or even make her come home. 

It'd been weeks since he heard from Memphis, and though she was alive when he left her, the lack of communication was driving him insane. Maybe if she thought things were handled, she might be willing to tell him she was okay. 

Poe sat in the car for nearly ten minutes, convincing himself a reply would come any minute. When it didn't, he pulled out of the police station and started to drive home. 

He stumbled wearily to his front door, exhausted from the stress of talking to Det. Bahmani, when something caught his eye at the foot of his door. A brown package with a letter sitting on top. He grabbed the items and walked inside, setting them down on his table.

The moment the letter opened, he recognized the handwriting of Mr. De la Porta and immediately dropped what was in his hands. 

His blood ran cold at the thought of that man. He could feel De la Porta's hand on his back. He could feel his breath on the back of his neck. And he could hear his voice as the words on the letter echoed through his head.

Your sister was in charge of reselling this junk. Someone's got to handle it. Looks like it falls to you. You know what happens if you don't. Someone won't be happy if they don't get their cut. That spat in the diner was tame. 

Attached was a photo of the front of Poe's parents home.

"No, no, no, no, no," Poe muttered as he pulled back the cardboard of the box to see some of the stolen items from the gala in the box: a few pieces of jewelry and what looked like a pamphlet of some sorts.

A ding on his phone drew his attention, and he looked to see a cash deposit to his account. 

"Oh no," he mumbled as he stuttered towards the bathroom. "Please, no."

Poe doubled over on top of the toilet as everything in his stomach came up and out. Thinking that he profited in any way from what he had done made him sick. That security guard had woken up in the hospital, and he had cried in relief. But receiving the money for a "job well done" as De la Porta had called it seemed disgusting. 

As he continued to empty his stomach contents, Poe heard his phone buzz again... only this time it kept buzzing. When it stopped, there was silence for a moment before it started again.

Poe pulled himself across the floor to see the caller ID, accepted the call, and heard the sickened voice of De la Porta on the line.

"Did you get my present?" He asked, but didn't wait for a response before he continued speaking. "Heard you talked to the police today. Burke hasn't shown up at my door yet, so I'll take it you kept your mouth shut." 

Poe nodded vigorously before remembering that De la Porta couldn't see him and muttering out a yes. Somehow, though, he still felt like De la Porta could see him somehow.

"Good boy," De la Porta continued. "Your sister managed to take herself out of commission. Figures. She never could stick around when things got serious, but I knew I could count on you."

"Look," Poe responded, his voice shaking as he tried to feign confidence. "I just want to be done with all of this. I never wanted any of this, and I really don't want to speak to you anymore."

Poe thought he would have been able to handle anger. He would have been able to handle sadness maybe. But instead what he got was De la Porta's booming laughter echoing inside of his head. When he finally regained his composure, Poe thought he might have condemned himself to an early death.

"Sit down," De la porta said.

Poe found himself sitting down.

"You don't call the shots around here," he continued. "You're actually more guilty than I am. I tell you what to do, and you do it. Understand?"

De la Porta hung up the phone before Poe had a chance to respond, and he was once again left alone with his thoughts and a box full of millions of dollars worth of stolen goods.

He thought about calling Jun, but couldn't justify bringing him any more into this. Poe found himself doing that a lot, protecting people he cared for at the sake of his own sanity, but he recognized the circumstances he was in were not typical.

Every time Poe closed his eyes, he could see De la Porta, and he was starting to worry that was something that was not ever going to go away.

He didn't know anything about selling illegal items online, and he wasn't completely sure that Memphis did either. He made the decision that if those other guys they had worked with wanted to get paid, they were going to have to sell the stolen goods themselves.

He went over his own plan in his head. Classes ended in about two weeks, and after that he would be free to leave. To leave and maybe not come back depending on how everything ended. 

He hoped that maybe Jun would be able to come visit him or that, for some miracle, everything would just go away. But the further he got into this mess, the less and less likely it seemed that anything was every going to go his way.

Maybe he was not destined for things to work out for him.