Worthy of the Billionaire

I slid into the driver's seat, my hands shaking as I started the engine and pulled the seat belt tight across my lap. She sat behind me, her arm snaking around the seat to keep the gun firmly in my ribs.

“It wasn't that hard actually. The people that are putting 10% or more, I don't bother with them at all. It's the ones who are putting less or nothing at all that made this possible. If a person is only putting in 8

% of their pay, the company should only match 8%. I simply made it so that the company matches as if it were the full 10%, only the extra 2% goes to me. The accounts where they aren't even putting anything into their retirement are even easier. I get the full 10% off of those. Take the highway.” She spoke easily, as though this were the most natural part of the day for her.

“How were you getting away with it?” I asked as I merged onto the highway.

“It was easy enough. By reporting 95% of employees paying into the plan, the company expected that much money to go out the door. Hell, they encouraged it. I got a bonus for getting the participation up that high. They never questioned where the money was going. It is free money for employees, and if they are too stupid to take advantage of it, then I will. I made sure that the correct matching went to the employees. Besides, I am the director of the matching incentive program. If anyone had any concerns, they would have come to me. Any questions on any of the payments came through me, and I only had to authorize them to myself if there was a problem.” She laughed, but it sounded cold.

“How long have you been doing this? How much have you stolen?” I asked trying to do the math in my head. She answered like it didn't matter.

“Since I was appointed the director for the program, so about 4 years ago. I started slowly, convincing people to start the program, so my first year wasn't as much as now. It has been trending into the millions. And it isn’t stealing. I never took a dime from the employees. I just took what they were too stupid not to take advantage of.”

“It's still stealing” I whispered.

“You shut your fucking mouth. You had to come along and ruin everything. I still had three more years before I hit my goal, but now I am going to have to leave it half finished. You fucking whore. Mr. King's little accounting whore. You are nothing but his prostitute. Everyone knows you got your job by sleeping with him. You barely have a job. He doesn't care about you- he just likes tying your pretty cunt up.” Olivia sneered, pushing the gun into the tender flesh between my ribs. I squirmed away from the pain, both the physical and the emotional. I forced myself to concentrate on the road, to not listen to her words.

“Oh, does that hurt little princess? Too close to the truth? You know as well as I do that man loves only his precious King Enterprises. He just keeps you around because you feel nice on his prick. Though, as I recall, that prick does feel rather nice. A little long for my taste, I prefer them thicker, but he does know how to get the job done.” Olivia laughed cruelly as she dug the gun deeper.

I wanted to hit her so badly, to just turn around and slam her face into the seat for her lies. I must have shown the hurt from her words as she dropped her voice to a whisper, moving her lips next to my ear, “Oh, he didn't tell you about us then? I wonder what else he has kept from you? You should ask him about what we did in Vegas...”

Her giggle made red lines run through my vision. Rage and a need for violence surged in my core. We were almost at the airport and I had no delusions that she was going to let me get away. She might let me live, but she wasn't going to make it a pleasant existence. She wanted to hurt me. She leaned back, pulling the gun out of my ribs but still pointed at me. I made a split second decision that I was sure I was going to regret.

I closed my eyes and slammed the wheel hard to the right, my foot hitting the gas pedal to the floor while I willed the rest of my body to go limp. Lights blazed through my vision, white and red flooding through my eyelids while the sounds of a gunshot, metal on metal, the engine's roar, and her terrified screams rose to a crescendo in an unholy music. My body floated through time and space, I willed it to be flexible, to roll with the car instead of fighting it. Drunk people survived car crashes all the time, I told myself as I floated upside down.

Everything landed with a thud. The air was thick with white powder, the airbags hanging limply like forgotten children's balloons. I was pretty sure I had fractured another rib and definitely re-injured the other two, but at least this time I didn't lose consciousness and I didn't think I was bleeding. I felt for the door, still disoriented and dazed, my hands shaking from the adrenaline.

Fresh air filled my nostrils as I opened the door. The white powder was slowly settling, and I looked frantically around for Olivia. She wasn't in the car with me. For a horrible second I thought she would come walking up over the ridge with the gun pointed at my head, but I could hear people shouting behind me. I slowly unbuckled my seat belt, breathing in the fresh air from the open door.

“Hey Lady! Are you alright?” A worried young man stood at my window with a first aid kit in his hands.

“I'm not sure. I think I broke another rib” I struggled not to cough as the airbag dust irritated my lungs. Just breathing was proving to be a slow form of torture, and the need to cough was unbearable. “Where's the woman who was in the car with me?” I asked as he slowly helped me out of the car. The air outside smelled so good.

“My wife is a nurse, she is looking after her. I'm really sorry, but she wasn't wearing her seat belt, and it doesn't look good.” He looked sad as he helped me sit down in the grass. An ambulance wailed up, followed by a firetruck. Two firemen ran over and began checking me out, trying to ask me questions, but I was distracted by the paramedics putting Olivia on a stretcher. It wasn't until the ambulance screamed off that I was able to answer their questions. A second ambulance arrived, and the firemen shuffled me into it and off to the hospital.

***

“She could have shot you! She had the gun pointed right at you!” Mr. King glared at me.

“I didn't think of that until after we were flipping over the guard rail. Oops,” I replied shrugging my shoulders.

“Oops? Claire, I almost lost you. Again. I don't like this habit of yours. I may make Charles drive you everywhere from now on.” He reached out and touched my hand, the limo slowing as it took a turn. He brought it to his lips and kissed it gently, tenderness in every motion.

He had stayed the night at the hospital again, my shield against the police that came about the accident, and then about what I had to tell them. It had been a brutal affair, but Mr. King had made sure that all the documents went to the correct investigators and that I never had to repeat my story.

He had become concerned when I didn't show up at his office and didn't answer my phone. Security footage showed me leaving with Olivia and he immediately knew something was wrong. He had called the police and they had actually set up a roadblock at the airport for me. Knowing that, it made my decision to crash seem pointless.

Olivia was in intensive care. The doctors thought that she was going to make it, but it would take months of rehab. On the one hand I felt horrible that I had caused pain to another human being, but on the other, she had tried to kill me. Twice. I decided it some of it had to be karma.

The car slowed as we approached the house. I stepped out gingerly, my ribs still sore. I had walked away from this accident with the same two fractured ribs, a new bruised rib, and a sprained ankle. Mr King wrapped his arms around me as he carefully guided me into the house. He felt so strong beneath me, so safe. I felt like I could fall a thousand times and he would always be there to catch me.

The big main door opened and I gasped. The entire foyer was filled with flowers. Red long stem roses and lilies of every color filled every square inch of the entrance. The lilies were my favorite flower in the world. I wasn't even sure how he had found that out, but there they were just for me. It smelled wonderful. I turned to look at him, surprise covering my face.

“Welcome home, Claire.” He smiled nervously, taking my hands in his.

“This is beautiful! You didn't need to do all this- I was only in the hospital a day!” I exclaimed.

“Actually, there is something that I needed to tell you, and William said I should have flowers. I think I may have been a little overzealous though.” he raked his fingers through his hair, obviously flustered.