Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
“Yeah. Fuck, I completely forgot until you mentioned innocent women. Have Wyatt look into paid escorts. Dad has a vice—women who don’t mind being paid for sex. It’s what he does during those encounters that he has to pay extra hush money for. I’m talking they leave black and blue, sometimes with blood pouring out any hole they have on their body.” Shit keeps getting deeper and deeper with this damn guy. I look at Fawn. She has an AirPod in her ear while typing away at the computer, not listening to a word I’m saying. Keeping her home another day wasn’t going to happen. She was adamant that we both return to work. I could do everything from home, but her job would be a fuck ton harder. At least now she’s currently working in my office, and there’s a receptionist outside my shut door. A fiasco that caused my entire HR department to turn their heads and look at me when I told them Fawn Peterson would be working in my office from now on. It’s a good thing they held their tongues; there’s not one single word in the employee handbook about fraternization between employees. Even if there were, I’m the fucking boss. What I say goes, and Fawn in my office is one of them. She must feel my eyes boring holes into her body, my own issue making sure I have her in my sights at all times. I watch as her pretty gaze settles on mine. Her desk is in the corner of the room, back to the wall, the floor-to-ceiling windows letting in natural light, so a halo surrounds her.
“You okay?” I mouth quietly. She gives me a firm nod. Her arm is still in a sling. She’s got another appointment tomorrow, along with an X-ray to see what her options are. She’s hoping for a splint instead of a cast, allowing her to take it off in order to sleep.
“I am. Are you?” she replies, hitting the pause button on her phone. She’s got an audio book playing in her ear, probably one of the murder mysteries she enjoys so much. Another plus in having a receptionist out front, it gives Fawn more time to go through reports and deal with the bullshit when she has plenty to do for me without being on the phone answering mindless questions.
“Yeah, Doe, I am,” I return, then go back to my phone call with Boston.
“How the hell did Wyatt not find this yet?” I ask him, lead settling in my stomach about the fact this could be happening to women. Even if they’re hired for a certain service, no one deserves to be hurt that badly.
“Not sure, but he’s been hiding his tracks for years now. The secretaries are only the beginning. Mom doesn’t know about this other thing, and if it weren’t for a word triggering my memory, I wouldn’t have remembered either. It’s not every day your father brags about taking a woman’s ass and using her blood as lube, trying to talk about how to be a real man. I was fucking nine, man. There are certain things you don’t want to remember.” This conversation is going from bad to worse the longer it goes on.
“Damn it. No kid should have to go through half of the shit you did. I’m glad you came out on the other side. Fuck, if Wescott had his way, you’d have turned out just like him. Thank Christ you didn’t. I’m going to get Wyatt up here, figure this shit out while trying not to rehash memories you do not need to revisit. I’ll keep you posted, and I’m still calling New Orleans Police Department to be on the safe side.” I jot down a few notes. There’s one person who would know exactly what side business a man would use to funnel this type of behavior: Jack Peterson. Calling in a favor this early is going to cost me. It’s worth the price if it means we can nail this piece of shit to the cross. “I’ve got an idea. I’ll call you back,” I tell Boston, ready to get off this call, get ahold of Jack, and then get Wyatt to dig into the company name.
“Alright, talk later.” We hang up. Now to ask Doe if I can use her phone in order to get ahold of Jack faster than I could with mine.
TWENTY-FOUR
Fawn
“What was that all about?” I ask Sly as he gets off the phone. His expression is grim, and he’s run his hand through his hair so much that it’s standing up in a way that is abnormal for Sylvester’s usual appearance.
“Another day with more of Governor Wescott’s bullshit. Do you think if you called your father, he’d answer right away?” He must see the concern written on my face. My stomach tightens as a whole other worry settles in my gut.