Free Gifts and Consequences by Daniel Coleman

down.  All he could see was the top of her blond, curly head.
    “Daddy?” she said in a voice that could only be described as angelic.  “I’m sorry I colored on my room.  Do you still love me, Daddy?  I still love you.”
    He hugged her and assured her that he loved her very much, then went into the girl’s room and made sure Tracy knew it as well.  They spent the next half hour snuggled on the overstuffed chair reading The Cat in the Hat and Where the Sidewalk Ends .  It was the last time he had lost his temper with the girls. 
    He spent a few more minutes at the gravesite conjuring memories of her life to combat the memories of her death that until today he had foolishly never discouraged. 
    Feeling stronger than he had in almost two decades he retrieved the backhoe and tools and drove to Section 10, Lot 21-A.  The ditch he dug was small repayment to Macy’s dad, who had taught him the proper way to grieve.
     

 
Chapter Fourteen
     
     
    In Control, Cheryl cheered when Dexter opened the shed door and began loading tools onto the backhoe.  Jonathan and Marcus looked at each other and both sighed in relief. 
    With the crisis averted, Jonathan sent Oscar a text message to inform him that his services would not be necessary after all.  It was Oscar’s job to be the axe when a person chose to let it fall.  Marcus had sent the original text telling Oscar to get ready, but Jonathan insisted on sending the stand down message himself.
    Everyone in the room was glad Oscar wouldn't be involved.  With his thick Irish brogue and fascination with Batman, Oscar was well-liked, but the service he provided was often unpleasant, no matter how well-deserved.  All of Jonathan's employees had personal experience with his contracts, and hated to see other people fail.
    Jonathan and Marcus were both finished for the day, and walked toward the center of the gutted floor, where the elevator stood.  Just as the doors opened, Casey called, “Jonathan, phone.  Reception says some people are here to see you.”
    “I’ll meet them downstairs,” he called back, stepping into the elevator.
    “Are you sure that’s smart?” Marcus asked, following him.  “Why not find out who it is before you go down?”
    “Where’s the fun in that?” answered Jonathan.  “Besides, if it’s someone looking for a fight you can always protect me, right?”  He chuckled softly, but Marcus didn’t find it amusing. 
    Though Marcus looked like a heavyweight champ, he would never fight again.  He and Jonathan both knew that he would watch Jonathan get beaten to a pulp before he would hurt anyone.  Not that anyone would pick a fight when Marcus was around.
    Despite his unwillingness to fight, Marcus stepped in front of Jonathan when the elevator doors opened.  Peering around Marcus’s bulk, Jonathan saw his old business partners standing at the mahogany reception desk. 
    He smiled and pushed past Marcus.  “Paul Evans and Dave Hewson,” he exclaimed, embracing each in turn and slapping them loudly on the back.  “What are you two vultures doing in these parts?”
    “Came to offer you a hundred thou for your building,” said Paul, barely suppressing a smile.  He was a plump man with blond, gelled hair.  “We hear you’re barely using one floor.”
    “We’ll even cut your rent in half, since you’re only using half the floor.”  Dave Hewson matched his companion in girth and short stature, but had non-descript brown hair. 
    “Make it a hundred mil and it’s yours,” Jonathan answered.
    Growing more serious, Dave asked, “So you back in business?”
    “No, just working on personal projects.  Trying to keep busy.  Oh, this is Marcus.  My assistant.  Marcus, Paul and Dave.”  They shook hands, Marcus towering over the shorter men.
    “Assistant, huh?  That sounds like code for ‘There are people after me so I hired King Kong to watch my back’.”
    “They can think what they like, but he’s gentle as a