Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“How much?” He wasn’t about to back down until he knew exactly how bad the situation was.
“A quarter million.”
Quaid cursed under his breath. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I needed to do something.” Paul proved he could act out an overly dramatic scene. “I was betting on myself. You can’t understand because you’re not an artist.”
Because even if his brother knew he wrote novels, that wouldn’t be art. No, that would be commercial fiction that anyone could produce. “No, I’m just the one who cleans up your every mess.”
“I’m not asking you to clean up this one, damn it,” Paul shot back. “I needed a place to stay while I’m selling my house. I’ve got a real estate agent working on it but it’s better if the place is empty.”
“That’s not why you came back.”
“I drove all the way from California to here because I needed to be home,” his brother argued.
He wanted this situation over with as soon as possible, and allowing Paul to drag it out would only cost them all more pain. “Give me the guy’s name and I’ll handle it.”
“I told you I would take care of it.”
His brother wasn’t thinking at all. “Have you considered for one second that they might follow you? That this person you owe money to might decide to look you up and figure out who you are? Or did you think he would shrug and say, ‘Well, I guess he’s gone—too bad’?”
“He wouldn’t come out here,” Paul insisted. “He doesn’t know where I grew up.”
“And that’s hard to find out?” It was time to hope his brother could grasp logic. “It’s not. A simple skip trace will connect you to both me and our mother. It’d be pretty easy for him to figure out you’re here. I think taking that car of yours might be an excellent start to getting his money back.”
“No.” Paul had paled. “No. He wouldn’t do that. I told him I would have his money back and soon. I bought that house for cash. It’s worth at least three million. The market is hot right now. I just need a couple of weeks. He knows that.”
“He agreed to wait?”
Paul went silent.
Quaid pulled his keys from his pocket. If he didn’t start for home now, it could be after midnight before he got back to the office. “I want his name. I’ll pay him off so he doesn’t come after our mother, who would have no idea how to protect herself. I might be able to get your car back or at least negotiate for him to take it off your bill.”
He was so sick of having to save his brother.
“I can do this. I’m not trying to get out of it,” Paul insisted. “I need time. I have the money but it’s invested in property, and that takes time to sell.”
“Your house is worth three million. Where did the other seven go? It can’t all be acting lessons.” He was floored by the fact that his brother had wasted everything their parents had given him.
“I was never good with money the way you are. I like enjoying my life. Sue me.” Paul’s expression turned sullen, and he moved to the passenger side of the car.
“Oh, I wish I could, brother.” Quaid opened the door and slammed inside, forcing the seatbelt over his torso before turning the car on.
“I didn’t mean to run through it all. I thought I would do better than I have,” Paul admitted quietly. “Everyone always told me I could be a star, and then things went wrong. I did spend a lot while I was high. I know you think I don’t have feelings, but you can’t imagine how much I regret putting Mom and Dad through that. I suppose you can’t understand because you were always the perfect child.”
“Don’t turn this around on me.” He wasn’t going to sit here and listen to Paul whine about how easy he had it. “I didn’t have it any easier than you did.”
“You were handed the career you wanted.”
“You think I wanted this? I’m not complaining. But it might shock you to know that it wasn’t exactly my choice. I was basically told what I would do. You had choices.”
Paul was quiet for a moment as Quaid pulled onto the street. “You could have said no.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s a powerful word. You say no and then don’t do whatever the thing is you don’t want to do.”
“And then when Dad died, I would have left the whole town with no one to look after them.” He wasn’t properly explaining himself. He wasn’t sure why he was explaining at all, but the least he could do was be precise. “I didn’t mind law school. I enjoy the job, I do. I wouldn’t change the course of my life, but you pretend like it wasn’t hard work or that I never wanted to be anything except what I am right now. You pretend like I never had a single dream.”