He Forced My Parents to Death 15 Years Ago-Now I Let Him Go To Prison Fate Chapter 05
I unfolded the document and read it aloud into the microphone.
“Effective Monday, the entire Oak Creek Preparatory Academy student body and faculty will relocate to the
new Highland Springs Campus.”
“The old campus on Maple Street will be transferred to county ownership and converted into a senior community center. All existing buildings on the old campus will be demolished and rebuilt.”
Silence fell over the hall.
Dale’s mouth hung open, his face full of disbelief.
After a moment of shock, Dale panicked. He thrust a finger in my face and roared, “What the hell kind of game are you playing? I just spent three hundred thousand dollars on this place. You can’t just move.”
“This is a fake document. You’re trying to scare me.”
The main doors swung open. Principal Hammond walked in with several school board members and
confirmed the relocation, word for word.
He looked at Dale’s pale face and smiled. “Don’t worry, Mr. Sikes. Your new cafeteria will be preserved. It’s being converted into a nonprofit community kitchen for local seniors.”
“The county was worried about funding, but you stepped up and built them a beautiful facility at your own expense. On behalf of Oak Creek’s elderly, I suppose we owe you a thank you.”
Looking at Dale’s pale, bloodless fat face, I finally let myself smile. A real one.
This was the trap I’d set for him all along.
I’d known about the campus move. I’d seen the county’s redevelopment plans for the old property.
The only building being spared was the cafeteria. It was being turned into a charity kitchen.
So I’d blocked his construction crew. I’d insulted him. I’d let him hurt me. I’d done everything I could to make him angry enough to sink every penny he had into this building.
Now his blood money was going to feed the very people he’d terrorized for years. Not a single dollar would come back to him. His pride and joy would become everything he despised: charity.
Dale stumbled backward, almost falling off the stage. He stared at the expensive fixtures and custom-built
equipment, breathing hard.
He’d been hustling on the streets long enough to know how to fight back. He steadied himself and yanked
the contract from his bag.
“So what if the school moves? I’ve got a ten-year contract right here. A deal’s a deal. You move to Mars, I still
own the cafeteria.”
“Fine. I’ll have my workers knock down the walls right now, move every piece of expensive equipment to the
new campus, and keep running my goddamn steakhouse there!”
I laughed in his face.
I produced my copy of the contract, flipped to the last page, and read aloud.
“This agreement is valid only at 48 Maple Street, Oak Creek. In the event of campus relocation, this contract is automatically terminated without compensation or liability to the school.”
I walked up close to him and lowered my voice. “You tore up the original contract because one-year terms weren’t good enough for you, remember? You insisted on a ten-year version instead.”
“But you were so busy throwing your weight around and making threats that you signed it without even
reading it, didn’t you?”
Dale went white. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
He fumbled through his own copy, eyes bulging as he found the clause.
His ten-year plan. His dream steakhouse. All of it turned to nothing because of that single clause.
The contractors and suppliers in the audience finally put it together.
There was no place for Dale at the new campus. The old campus was scheduled for complete demolition
next week.
Every dollar Dale had invested was gone, down the drain. He had no way to pay off the remaining balances
nis equipment.
The same men who’d been slapping his back minutes ago now swarmed the stage.
“Dale, stop playing dead, you son of a bitch! Pay me the balance for the stoves right now, over a hundred
grand!”
“And the money for the central air! I fronted that cash out of my own pocket. Pay me back, or I’ll make sure you can’t walk straight for a year.”
“You liar. You bragged about how much money you had. Turns out you’re just a broke loser. Pay up! Give me my money now!”
They shoved him around, grabbed his collar, screamed in his face. His swagger evaporated. All that was left
was panic.
I stood at the edge of the stage, looking down at his pathetic state as everyone trampled him underfoot. An
cribable sense of satisfaction rose in my chest.
ut this wasn’t enough.
Fifteen years ago, he’d destroyed my family. A little humiliation and a lost investment didn’t come close to
balancing that scale.
I wanted him to know what true despair felt like.
