THE CHOICE

EIGHT

A SMACK TO THE FACE brought Jack back to reality.

"Wakey, wakey!"

Jack looked up to see a face he recognized. His hands were zip-tied behind his back and his feet were bound together with duct tape. He was horrified to see that his wife and son had been subjected to the same fate, but at least they were still alive. He was thankful for that much.

"Tim Hullander," Jack said. "Why are you doing this?"

The man smiled then gave Jack a blinding fist against the side of the head.

"Nah..." Tim began. "You don't get to ask the questions, Jack. I'm running this show."

Jack tried to compose himself and sat back up.

"You know this guy?" Madison asked Jack.

Tim turned to her, "Oh, he knows me alright." He turned back to Jack. "I used to work for him. He cost me my job."

Madison looked over at Jack, perplexed. "What's he talking about?"

"Yeah, Jack!" Tim said. "Why don't you tell the little lady what I'm talking about?" He squatted down in front of Jack. "And don't try to make excuses or change the story, 'cause we both know how it really went down."

Jack looked over at Madison who was waiting for a response, an explanation, anything. Jack obviously knew this person. He had called Jack by name. So just maybe he could figure out how to make this guy happy and they wouldn't all end up at the county morgue the next morning.

Jack sighed, not wanting to tell the story. "Tim used to work at Maxwell," Jack said. "He was one of our account coordinators."

"And I was damn good at my job!" Tim lauded. "I came to work every day, never had one single writeup in my employee file, and you never had the kind of numbers like I put up... especially on the Pennington account."

Jack sat silent.

Tim pushed the tip of his handgun threateningly close to Jack's face. "I won't ask you again. You tell your wife, Jack. Tell her why I'm here tonight. You tell her why you're putting your family in such a state. You tell her why I'm gonna' blow your fuckin' brains out right in front of her."

"It... it was my fault," Jack confessed. "I'm the one who screwed up the pay sheets."

"That's right," Tim confirmed, as condescendingly as possible. "End of the month, it came time to divvy up the customer payouts-something I did every month without fail-but this time you wanted to jump the gun, kiss Donaldson's ass a little more than usual. And wouldn't you know it? Calculated the percentages wrong."

Jack looked down in concession. Tears filled his eyes.

"Fifty-seven thousand dollars," Tim said. "That's what you cost Maxwell when it was all said and done."

"I made a mistake, Tim," Jack said, looking up at the man pitifully.

"Oh, cut the shit. You did more than make a mistake. You cost the company someone's salary. Gotta' impress the boss. Gotta' show him how big your balls are." Tim looked back at Madison. "But that isn't the best part, is it Jack?" He gave a smile that was dripping with hatred and resentment. "Tell your wife the best part."

Jack sat stone still, unwilling to speak.

Tim pointed the gun at Madison's head. She gave a surprised yip and began to cry. Conner looked up and whined. Though he was young, he knew that whatever was happening was very bad. And whoever this bad man was, he was hurting mommy and daddy.

"Jack..." Tim addressed, calmly. "Do you want me to kill your wife?"

Jack looked up immediately, tears running down both cheeks like saltwater rivers.

"Okay, fine!" Jack shouted. "It was me! I did it! I screwed up the percentages, I cost the company fifty grand, and I blamed it on Tim! I updated the payouts under his login, since he was over the account, and when it all came crashing down, it had Tim's name written all over it!"

"That's exactly right," Tim said. "I'm proud of you, Jack. But one last confession. What did you do when Donaldson found out? What did you tell him?"

Jack's head hung low again, in shame. "I pulled the reports with your name on them and sent them to Donaldson. He told me to fire you immediately."

"And you, of course, did exactly what you were told," Tim said. "Not once offering to explain what really happened. Nope. You just let me take the fall for it, and to hell with the consequences. 'Cause it wasn't your salary on the line. It wasn't your house that got repossessed. It wasn't you selling used cars down at old man Marley's Garage, failing to make ends meet."

Tim walked closer to Jack. "I mean, do you have any idea what it feels like to have to see the disappointment on your kids' faces, when every single time they ask you for something you have to tell them you can't afford it? Do you know how much of a failure as a husband and father it makes me feel to know that I can't properly provide for my family, that I couldn't buy them a decent Christmas or take my wife out for our anniversary because we didn't have the money?"

Tim looked at Jack, scowling, "You sit here in your nice house with your beautiful things and your eighty-thousand-dollar cars in the garage, and to think that it should've been YOU in my shoes. It should've been YOU selling used cars. It should've been YOU seeing your family's disappointment. It should've been YOU dealing with the guilt of knowing that you were failing as a provider, having to move your family into a shithole apartment because it's all you can afford."

Tim pointed the gun back at Jack. "But it's not, is it? It's not you at all." He looked back at Madison. "I'm sorry to blow his cover, Mrs. Thompson, but your husband's a liar, a cheat, a coward... he's a fuckin' snake."

Jack looked up at Tim. "For what it's worth, Tim, I am so very sorry that things turned out like they did."

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" Tim spat back in disgust. "Your apology is worthless! There's only one way I can make peace with this."

"How much is it going to take?" Jack asked.

Tim shook his head. "This isn't about money now, Jack. But it is about payback."

Jack kept his eyes on Tim as the realization finally hit him.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you, Tim?"

"No," Tim replied. "Worse. I'm going to give you a choice."