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)
This time his eyes widen. Either he’s a great actor, or he doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about.
I’m not willing to rule out the great actor part. Not just yet.
I already found out what a great actress Brittany is. But Brittany has a personality disorder. She’s a sociopath.
Pat?
I’m not getting sociopath vibes from him. Just asshole vibes.
Gigantic asshole vibes.
“Have a seat,” I say to him.
“Thanks, but I’ll stand.”
“Suit yourself.” I clear my throat. “We take care of this town.”
“You mean you own this town.”
“I mean we take care of this town.” I advance a step. “Don’t try to put words in my mouth. You have no idea what’s in my head.”
Pat retreats a step. “And you have no idea what’s in mine.”
I scoff. “I have a pretty good idea.”
“You don’t. I’m not the kind of guy you think I am.”
“Someone who drugs women and then violates them while they’re passed out is a pretty bad guy, Pat.”
“Violate? I never touched them.”
“I’m not accusing you of rape. But drugging them, disrobing them, and shooting pictures without their explicit consent sure as hell is a violation.”
“What if I told you that wasn’t my idea?”
“I’d say you’re a fucking liar as well as an asshole.”
“It was all Brittany, man. Totally.”
“Not buying.”
“It was. I’m telling you, she’s not right in the head. You have no idea. I’m not the villain you think I am.”
“Actions speak way louder than words, but I’m sure I don’t have to educate you on that.”
“Brittany is—”
“I know exactly who Brittany is, and I think you know that I know, and you’re willing to throw your little girlfriend under the bus.”
“She’s not my girl—”
“Shut the fuck up. I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend or not. I don’t care which one of you fucks the other over. You can both die in prison, and I wouldn’t shed a tear. That’s not why I’m here.”
“What do you want, then?”
“Do you have a copy of your birth certificate?”
He widens his eyes. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Maybe I’m just interested.”
“Yeah. Because people enter my house unannounced all the time asking for my birth certificate.”
“Maybe they should.”
“Well, this may surprise you because I’m sure you Steels have documents lying around all over the place, but I don’t keep a copy of my birth certificate on hand. This isn’t even my house.”
“Do you have one at home? At Mrs. Mayer’s?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Would it surprise you to know that you don’t exist?”
He shakes his head, wrinkles his forehead. “What?”
“Yeah. Patrick Lamone doesn’t exist.”
“Now you’re the one who’s gone mental, Steel.”
“Actually, I haven’t. You claim you’re some kind of Steel heir, but on paper? Pat Lamone doesn’t exist.”
“I’m standing right here.” He puts his fingers to his neck. “I’m pretty sure I have a pulse.”
I’m well aware of the gun strapped to my ankle, but I am not my father. I will not resort to his tactics.
I can deal with Pat Lamone sans firearms.
“It’s time to get real, Lamone. Tell me what you know about your supposed connection to the Steel family.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“Look. I don’t like you. That’s no secret. I don’t like what you did to my cousin Diana, and I don’t like what you did to Rory and Callie. But I’m willing to talk about it. I’m willing to entertain the notion that maybe you had a reason in your warped mind.”
“Maybe I just don’t like Diana. Or Rory and Callie.”
“Or maybe you like them too much.”
“The fuck?”
I close the distance between us. “You had the hots for Rory. She knew it then. Callie knew it. That’s how they were able to manipulate you.”
“I’m hardly the only guy who had the hots for Rory Pike in high school.”
“True enough. What about Diana?”
“Diana is a different story.”
“Tell me the story.”
“None of your fucking business.”
I draw in a deep breath to calm myself. “Pat, I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. I’m a member of the Steel family. The family you want to join. Level with me, make your case. We’re not tyrants. If you have a valid claim, we’ll share.”
“Right.” He scoffs.
“Give me any evidence you still have regarding Rory and Callie, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Your grandmother too.”
“My grandmother?”
“Sabrina Smith. The woman in the mental health wing at the hospital.”
“How do you know about her?”
“Uh…we were there, remember? When you visited her? The night Frank Pike had a heart attack?”
“That’s why you were there? Is he okay?”
“Like you care.”
He says nothing. Just looks sheepish.
“Now level with me. Give me all the copies of those damned photos and tell me everything you know about your connection to my family, and I’ll take care of things from there.”
“You’re a liar, Steel.”
“I’m not a liar. You can take that to the bank.”