Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“Shoot.”
“Do you remember Grandpa’s national banking information?” Roman crossed his arms.
“Of course I do.” His cousin lifted his chin and glared at him as if he were semi-insulted.
“Do you recall Grandpa’s contacts for some of his overseas accounts? The ones he likes to use for his money laundering in particular?”
“You don’t even have to ask. I was in there like swimwear. He kept me close. He trusted me.”
“Perfect. Let’s meet for lunch tomorrow. The steakhouse near your home. I know you’re not hurtin’ for cash, but it’ll be my treat. Time for a business meetin’ amongst thieves, saints, and cousins.”
“You’ve got it.”
They bumped fists, then embraced one another tight. He could feel Phoenix’s heartbeat beneath his open leather jacket. It wasn’t fear, but anger. Even that old man’s name caused Phoenix to practically taste blood. Of that, he was certain.
Roman glanced down at his watch, then unlocked his car that they were standing by.
“Hey, my girlfriend is on her way to my place. I gotta go. I know you’re in the middle of something right now anyway, too. Thank you for meeting me here on such short notice.”
“Not a problem. Roman, you be careful, ya hear? Watch your back.” Phoenix pointed at him. “If he’s willin’ to hurt his own son to spite his grandchild, then there is nothin’ that he won’t do to make you squirm and beg for mercy. The devil don’t take no naps, sick days or vacations, sir. He’s always on fire, so you gotta drown his ass with the flood of a billion tears pourin’ from the icy eyes of fierce and fed-up angels.” Phoenix winked at him, then waved.
“Rub a fuckin’ dub… there’s an old man in a tub… Duly noted.”
He opened his car door and slid into the driver’s seat while the motorcycle engine roared. By the time he’d collected his next thoughts, Phoenix was flying like a bird, his rock music loud and his long hair blowing in the wind…
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Confessions of a Charlatan
My mama told me and my brothers a story one time ’bout secrets. I don’t recall all the particulars, but I know there were five frogs, a river, some lily pads ’nd whatnot, but the moral of the tale was that sometimes a secret can break you in two.
Ain’t that the point of being human too, though? Being two different people inside the same wretched body? Devil on the right shoulder, God on the other? Whispering things in your ears. We make choices based on so many things, and those choices can cause us to make certain moves, say certain things, and behave in expected and unexpected ways—but mainly, we’re creatures of habit. Whatever we learned or endured in our childhoods carries on into our adulthood, until our souls cry out for better. Building walls, bulldozing egos, chasing our own tail and playing games with our minds is what we do in the meantime. We collect broken hearts and fill the fractured nuisances of our own bodies and souls with horseshit.
We run folks out of our lives, then feel hurt when they leave. We let people use and abuse us, then get upset when they do exactly what we allowed them to do. We love to sit there cryin’ over the spilled milk that is really just our own rancid blood, filled with sin, and sold by derelict angels to the highest bidder. God. That’s right. He bought our souls, right? The blood. Many church songs talk about the blood of Jesus. Grandpa talks about the blood all the time, too. Family is his addiction, though he doesn’t understand the true meaning of the word. With one hand, old man Wilde holds his tattered family Bible and with the other, he beats men down with his words, a gold and diamond cane, or a silver bullet to the head.
I imagine God and Satan got more in common than we feel comfortable talkin’ about. Don’t mean that they’re on the same team or even playing the same game, but the more of us mere mortals that find out about the wicked ways in which this here world works—and discover that the Man upstairs is waiting to see who is seeking out puzzle pieces and no longer comfortable in the matrix—the closer we arrive to death.
Simply put, once we have a good portion of this shit called life figured out, it’s time to go. We’ve learned our lessons. I guess that’s one reason, if you’re enjoyin’ life, to stay ignorant, evil, and repulsive in some way. Then, just maybe, you can buy yourself another day to get it right. With the way this world is turnin’ though, it looks like this is the first time God may have been wrong to count on us to do the right thing.
We ain’t much to be dyin’ and sacrificing for, now are we? Human beings are the scum of the gotdamn earth. Don’t be shocked or put off by my righteousness. Let’s be real honest for just a second here.