Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
My blood runs cold. I’ve heard that name before.
“Perhaps Doc had no way of knowing,” Dad continues, “that our family has prior history with the Fleming Corporation.”
“We do?”
“We’re in no way involved with the company, of course, but the people behind Fleming have a huge history with our family. With Talon in particular. And probably with Dale and Donny as well.”
My blood no longer runs cold. It has frozen into icicles in my veins.
Human trafficking. Uncle Talon. Dale and Donny.
“I’m not involved in anything untoward,” Doc Sheraton says, his voice cracking again.
“I want to believe you, Mark. I do. But first, you’re going to have to do as I say and pull up all the records on that computer. Otherwise, I will pull this trigger.”
Dad’s voice is low and menacing. My father’s not a killer, but the ice in his voice? If I were on the other side of that gun, I would believe him.
“Joe,” Doc Sheraton says.
“Be quiet. Just shut the fuck up, Doc. Do as I say, and no one will get hurt.”
I stand, frozen.
Dad does not take his eyes off the nose of his gun pointed at Doc’s head. He does not look at me. “Brock, begin looking. Anything out of the ordinary, take note.”
Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place. I’m not a criminal. I don’t believe in trespassing. On the other hand, if Doc is involved with the Fleming Corporation, whoever they may be at this point, we need to know.
Don’t turn your back on him.
My mother’s words. The conversation floats back into my head, haunting me.
“I promise you that your father is the same man he always was. He’s a good strong man, the love of my life, and he was a good father to you.”
“I never said he wasn’t.”
“No, you haven’t said that, but he made a choice. A choice he has to live with now. Don’t turn your back on him.”
“I won’t.”
“Good. Because there may come a time, before this is all over, that you want to. And I’m telling you now, Brock. If you do that, it will kill him.”
Did my mother know this was coming?
My father has always been a hothead. But never in my short life have I witnessed him point a gun at another human being.
So if he’s doing this? He’s been driven to it.
In the end, I trust this man. I trust him with my life. With the life of everyone I love.
I nod, and then I realize my father can’t see me. “All right, Dad. If you think this is the right thing to do.”
“I do, Brock. Thank you for trusting me.”
My father’s voice doesn’t shake a bit. It’s like he’s turned to frost.
That itself scares me as much as the sight of him pointing a gun at another human being.
“Start typing, Doc.”
Doc’s hands are shaking. “I’m trying.”
“Try harder,” Dad says through clenched teeth.
I begin to look around the office. What am I looking for? I have no idea.
I’m hyperaware of my own piece strapped to my ankle. Please, I beg silently, please, Dad, don’t make me pull my gun out.
I will if I have to. If somehow Doc overpowers my father, I will defend him.
I know this in the depths of my being. But I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to be the person who holds a gun on someone else.
A file cabinet stands against the adjacent wall. I start there. I pull open the top drawer…
“It’s locked,” I say.
“Where’s the key?” Dad nudges the gun into Doc’s head.
Doc swallows. “Top drawer of the desk.”
“Retrieve the key, Brock.”
I don’t want to go near that desk. It will entail going near Doc and my father with the damned gun.
My father will never hurt me, but Doc? I don’t trust him. Plus, my father has a gun to his head. What better way to get my father in line?
Threaten his son.
But I don’t back down. I was taught to be strong in the face of adversity, so I walk as calmly as I can behind the desk, taking care not to touch Doc or my father. I open the top drawer a few inches—any farther will disturb Doc and my father. With luck, I find a set of keys and grab it.
“Is this it?” I ask.
“Yes,” Doc says, shaking.
I don’t bother asking him which key is which. It’s best that I get the hell out from behind the desk. I’ll try each one of them.
Finding the key to the filing cabinet is easy. It’s smaller than the rest of them. I unlock the top drawer and open it.
It’s full of file folders, obviously. Fleming Corporation. I don’t see one that says Fleming Corporation. It’s mostly household bills.
But I know better. If he is truly doing something bad, he could be hiding information anywhere. So I pull out file after file and breeze through them. Nothing so far.