Our Driver Thought He Owned Us

Coming back from a business trip, I pointed to the limited-edition dirt bike that had just been delivered to the garage.

Howard, have the flatbed tow this over to my apartment around noon. I'm taking it out to the outer loop this weekend.

He didn't move. He just stood there, staring at me with a cold, unblinking gaze.

"My mom and Izzy are out this afternoon. You don't need to drive them anywhere."

I nodded. "I know."

"Oh, and grab that new riding gear from my room and load it up too."

He didn't answer. He just glared at me, his eyes dark and hostile.

I paused. "Do you not know how to call a flatbed?"

"Never mind. I'll just call the towing service myself."

When the tow truck driver arrived and we started loading the bike and gear, Howard suddenly flew off the handle.

"What do you think you're doing, taking off with something this expensive? Did you even ask for my permission?"

I was stunned.

My mom and sister had always hated bikes. They had been terrified of motorcycles since they were kids. I was the only one in the family who rode. My dad had custom-ordered this off-road bike from Europe and had it shipped over specifically for me.

Howard was just our driver. Did he honestly think living on the estate made him the man of the house?

"Howard, my mom and sister have zero interest in riding. This bike was bought for me."

"If you're so interested, I can let you take it for a spin sometime."

His face fell, sneering at me with pure disdain.

"Even if they don't ride it, you have no right to just cart it away."

"You're twenty-eight years old. No wife, no real career, still living off your parents' dime. Aren't you embarrassed?"

My temper flared.

"You're the driver, Howard. Stick to your job and mind your own business."

He shut his mouth, but he kept staring at me like I owed him a million dollars.

I didn't care to indulge him. I told the tow truck driver to finish loading.

As I walked out the door, I caught him muttering under his breath:

"Twenty-eight and still acting like a spoiled brat. Your mother might coddle you, but I won't."

I swallowed my anger.

My mom suffers from severe motion sickness. We have gone through at least ten drivers in the past few years. Howard wasn't exactly a pleasant guy, but he was the smoothest driver we'd ever had. My mom and sister could actually ride in the back without getting sick. That was the only reason I let it slide.

The next morning, my mom came back from her morning run.

The moment she stepped through the door, Howard rushed over, eagerly offering to take her coat and water bottle.

When she politely declined, he turned around to pour her a glass of water.

As she drank it, a smug, self-satisfied grin crept across his wrinkled face.

Then, my sister Izzy came downstairs.

Howard immediately started fussing over her.

"Izzy, I got those fresh pastries you like from the bakery down the street."

"Izzy, the weather app says it's going to pour today. Make sure you drive carefully."

"Izzy, what do you want for dinner tonight? I can pick up whatever you need."

I travel constantly for work. Even when I am home, I'm out early and back late, so I rarely interacted with him. Whenever he looked at me, his face was a mask of irritation and cold resentment.

I had assumed he was just a miserable guy by nature. I hadn't realized he was playing a double game.

At the dinner table, Howard sat himself down right next to my mother.

"Diana, that brand-new dirt bike you got yesterday? Elliot packed the whole thing up and took it to his place."

My mom smiled at me warmly.

"Those bikes can be dangerous in the wind, sweetie. Don't ride too fast, and please wear your helmet."

I took a bite of my food. "Don't worry, Mom. I'm only riding on weekends. It's staying in my apartment garage."

My mom said affectionately, "Alright. If you want, I can order you a road cruiser for your daily commute. It'll be easier for getting to the office."

Howard slammed his fork down.

"Diana, you're going to ruin him if you keep doing this."

"A twenty-eight-year-old grown man, unmarried, no real ambition, still begging his family for toys. Aren't you worried people will laugh?"

Izzy looked up, her fork pausing. "Howard, my brother spends our family's money. Why do you care?"

My mom chimed in, "I like spoiling my son. Who has a problem with that?"

Howard's face turned a deep, angry purple, but he didn't dare snap at them. Instead, he directed a look of pure venom at me.

I stood up.

"What is your problem?"

"My mother can spoil me all she wants. Since when does our driver get to tell us how to run our lives?"

Howard's face flushed a deep red.

"Diana, look at how he talks to me!"

"I'm only speaking up for the good of this family. A grown man acting like a parasiteI can't say a word about it?"

I scoffed.

"You're overstepping, Howard. My dad bought me that bike, and my parents own this house."

"You're just the hired help. Do you actually think you own the place?"

He gasped, clutching his chest like he was having a heart attack.

"You have the nerve to bring up the house? Your sister is the one who's going to inherit this estate and carry on the family legacy. This house is her security."

"You're a man. You're supposed to build your own life. How can you be so shameless as to try and steal your sister's inheritance?"

Izzy's face darkened.

"Howard, that's enough. I've never accused my brother of trying to take anything from me. Stop trying to drive a wedge between us."

My mom pushed her chair back, her voice cold.

"Howard, you don't make the decisions in this house."

Howard choked on his words.

"Diana, Izzy... I was only trying to help."

"A boy needs discipline. Twenty-eight and still lounging around the family estatewhat kind of woman would ever want to marry him?"

Seeing that he wouldn't drop it, my mother's tone grew ice-cold.

"Howard. Know your place."

Howard finally shut up.

But the look he gave me was dripping with resentment and unearned arrogance.

That evening, in our family group chat, my mom and sister both sent me a Zelle notification. Ten thousand dollars each.

Mom: "Elliot, honey, don't listen to a word Howard said. You will always be my baby."

Izzy: "Seriously, Elliot. The driver is acting so bizarre lately. A couple of weeks ago, he literally pushed his son's contact card on me."

My heart skipped a beat. You didnt add him, did you?

A brief pause.

Izzy: Somehow he got my number and added me first. But don't worry, I blocked and deleted him immediately.

I thought back to Howard's behavior toward my mother and sister this morning. It all clicked.

He was trying to make a play for my mother, while simultaneously setting up his son to marry my sister. A double jackpot. He wanted to swallow our family whole.

But my parents were happily married. My dad just spent most of the year overseas managing our international branches. Howard must have assumed my mother was a lonely divorce or a wealthy widow.

An audio message from my dad popped up in the chat. His voice was tight with barely suppressed rage:

"You two just sat there and let some hired hand bully my son?"

My mom and sister replied almost instantly, their voices trembling with guilt:

"I'll fire him first thing tomorrow!"

I jumped in to stop them. "Wait until we find a replacement."

My mom's motion sickness was no joke, and Howard really was a remarkably smooth driver. I figured we could tolerate him for just a little longer while we quietly scouted a new agency.

The next morning, my mom left early to visit a high-end domestic staffing agency, and Izzy went to her office.

I had pulled an all-nighter finishing a project proposal and had only just fallen asleep when a racket outside my door jolted me awake.

It was the obnoxious, heavy thudding of sneakers stomping up the stairs, followed by a loud, grating voice boisterously shouting in the hallway. It was impossible to sleep through.

I threw open my bedroom door, my face clouded with exhaustion and irritation.

"Howard, keep it down. Some of us are trying to sleep."

A completely unfamiliar, gravelly voice barked back.

"It's the middle of the day, what are you still sleeping for? Get over here and help me unpack my bags."

I rubbed my bleary eyes.

Standing in our hallway was a heavy-set, sunburned young man, looking at me with pure arrogance.

"Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?"

Howard emerged from the guest room next door, his chin held high.

"This is my son, Dustin. You'd better show him some respect from now on."

I let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. I didn't care if his son was the president.

"Howard, this is my house. You are our driver. And you're telling me to show your son respect?"

Howard smirked, looking down his nose at me.

"You're a twenty-eight-year-old freeloader who doesn't even have a real career. What right do you have to talk down to anyone?"

"Who knows who'll be running this house soon anyway."

Dustin sized me up from head to toe, a look of disgust on his face.

"Just as useless as my dad said."

"I'll give you twenty-four hours to pack your bags. Tomorrow, you're out of here."

"Your sister is the one keeping this place. A grown man trying to squeeze his sister out of her own inheritance? Have some shame."

I kicked away the duffel bag Dustin had tossed onto the floor.

"Get out of my house right now, or I'm calling the police for trespassing."

Howard pointed a finger at me, his face turning red as he screamed.

"Don't you dare act ungrateful! Your mother has carried you for twenty-eight years, that's long enough! It's time for you to get out."

"Your sister is staying. The house belongs to her. What are you trying to steal?"

"A grown man with no job, no drive, and you actually think you have a right to this estate?"

"Go look in a mirror and see if you even deserve to stand here!"

His toxic words made my blood boil.

"Howard, you're fired. Both of you, get the hell out of my house."

Howard didn't even flinch.

"You don't have the authority to fire us."

"Who was there to take care of your mother when she was sick? Did you spend a single dime? Did you lift a single finger?"

"Ive bled for this household, while youve done nothing but leach. What gives you the right to raise your voice to me?"

I didn't waste another breath. I pulled out my phone to dial 911.

Dustin lunged forward, snatched the phone out of my hand, and slammed it onto the hardwood floor, shattering the screen.

"You little punk. You don't know when to play nice."

"I guess we've spoiled you too much. Today, I'm going to teach you who really runs this place."

He shoved me aside and barged into my room, ripping open my closets and drawers.

"Look at all these luxury watches, these designer sneakers. A worthless freeloader doesn't deserve any of this. It's mine now."

Howard stood by, cheering him on.

"That's right, Dustin! Take it all. He doesn't deserve a dime of it."

"Twenty-eight years old, no job, just squandering his family's money. It's pathetic."

This was the absolute limit.

I grabbed a heavy broom from the utility closet and began swinging it wildly, striking them wherever I could.

"Thieves! Parasites! Get the hell out of my house!"

I managed to force them out, slamming the heavy front door shut. Finally, the house was silent.

But the adrenaline was surging, and any hope of sleep was completely gone.

After restoring some order to my room, I headed downstairs to find something to eat.

When the elevator doors opened into the lobby of our building, I walked into a crowd of residents gathered in a tight circle.

In the center stood Howard and Dustin. Their clothes were torn, their faces smudged, and they looked completely disheveled.

I kept my head down, trying to walk past them without making a scene. But someone stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

"Don't you dare walk away. You need to apologize to Howard and his son right now."

"We live in a civilized society. Assault is a crime."

Howard let out a pathetic, trembling sob.

"Elliot... Diana works so hard to keep this family afloat, and you just walk off with hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of custom bikes."

"Every day, it's designer shoes, lavish vacations... you're draining your mother dry."

"I tried to talk some sense into you, and you threw me out. You even tried to force Diana to sign the deed of the estate over to your name."

"Poor Izzy... she's the one who's supposed to inherit the house. It's her security!"

He wiped away a tear, sniffled, and put on a masterclass of tragic suffering.

The surrounding neighbors immediately flared up with self-righteous anger.

"Young man, you can't behave like this. Your mother has severe health issues. If Howard hadn't been taking care of her, who knows what would have happened?"

"He works tirelessly for your family, and you just throw him out like garbage?"

"You're twenty-eight! No career, no family of your own, just mooching off your mother?"

"And trying to steal your sister's inheritance? How pathetic."

"Look at the bruises on Howard and his boy. Stepfathers really have it rough."

"Howard gave his heart and soul to that house, only to end up with a delusional stepson who wants him gone. What a nightmare."

I stood there, my hands shaking with absolute rage at their web of lies.

"What the hell are you talking about? He is our driver!"

Howard cried even harder.

"My feelings for Diana are real! I never cared about her money!"

"I poured everything into that home. What do you know about sacrifice, you spoiled brat?"

An elderly neighbor, Mr. Henderson, shook his head with pity.

"Son, you should be grateful. Having someone step up to take care of your mother is a blessing."

"At twenty-eight, you should be out making a life for yourself, not staying home trying to cheat your sister out of her house."

Others chimed in:

"Exactly. And calling him 'the driver' to devalue him? How cold-hearted."

"Howard, you need to stand up for yourself. He's only walking all over you because you're too soft."

"Go to the clinic, get your injuries documented, and call the police. Let everyone see what an abusive, lazy, freeloading coward he is!"

Howard frantically shook his head.

"No, no, please, don't call the police. It'll ruin his future, and Diana would be devastated."

He lowered his head, the picture of martyr-like restraint.

"I... I can take it. I'm used to it. Keeping the peace in the family is what matters."

The crowd's anger boiled over, turning entirely on me.

I felt physically sick. My mother? His partner? Did my mother have any idea this lunatic was spinning these fantasies?

The crowd of onlookers was growing, and their venomous whispers began to pelt me like stones.

"Go ahead, call the police!" I shouted, my voice raw. "This is slander and defamation. Let's see who ends up ruined!"

Howard pointed a trembling finger at me.

"Elliot, don't push it. I know you have friends in the local department. Are you really that determined to destroy my life?"

He pulled up his sleeve.

"Look at these bruises! He did this to me!"

Then he tugged at Dustin's shirt collar.

"Dustin only wanted to protect his dad, and he got beat up too."

"Dustin, I'm so sorry. Your father is useless. I couldn't protect you from these people. I've failed you, son."

Dustin lunged forward and struck me across the face.

"Elliot, you've already ruined my happiness, and now you're torturing my dad?"

"You lazy piece of trash, karma is going to get you!"

My head snapped back from the blow. It was the first time I had ever been hit like that in my life, let alone under such a humiliating, fraudulent pretext.

Blinded by rage, I swung back and hit him.

The moment I did, Dustin grabbed me by the hair and began raining punches down on me.

"I'll teach you to lay hands on my dad!"

I tried to fight back, but two men from the crowd suddenly grabbed my arms from behind, pinning them.

"That's it, buddy! Teach this punk a lesson!"

"We've got him pinned! Hit him!"

Thankfully, the sound of sirens cut through the chaos. Two police officers rushed into the lobby, pulling Dustin and the men holding me apart.

Every muscle in my body ached, my face burning where Dustin had struck me. I clenched my fists, trembling.

"Officer, I want to press charges for assault, battery, and defamation."

But before I could finish, Howard dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

"Elliot, I can't protect you anymore. Not after what you did to my son. You've broken my heart."

"You have a sick, obsessive attachment to your mother. You can't stand any other man being near her."

"Ever since I started caring for Diana, you've been acting like a psychopath."

"And my poor Dustin... he and Izzy are deeply in love, but you threatened to kill yourself if they didn't break up."

"You just wanted to steal the trust fund and the house that Dustin and Izzy were supposed to share."

"Today, Dustin just came to visit his father, and you beat him half to death. And now you want to put us in jail?"

"You're trying to destroy us!"

The surrounding neighbors immediately stepped up to back his story.

"We saw the whole thing, Officer. This kid started it. Howard and his son were just defending themselves."

"The kid is unstable. He attacked them right in front of us. God knows what he does behind closed doors."

"Poor guys. I heard they were already planning the wedding, and the family was going to put Dustin's name on the deed."

"Izzy is the real victim here, having a leech of a brother who wants to steal her life."

I was losing my mind. These people were weaving a fantasy that threatened to drag my entire family into the mud.

"You're both insane!" I screamed.

The officer turned to me, his expression grave.

"Is any of this true, sir?"

"It's a complete lie! He is a driver hired through an agency. If you don't believe me, call the agency right now."

"This other guy broke into my apartment, threatened me, and tried to steal my personal belongings."

"I hired a driver, not a father figure, so I fired him on the spot."

"Then they come down here and make up this ridiculous story. Our relationship with Howard is strictly employer-employee. My mother is happily married, and my sister has never even met this man's son."

The officer pulled out his notepad and made a call to the agency.

"Howard Briggs? Yes, he was terminated from our registry six months ago."