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)
The two men shook hands, and the older man took his seat. He then removed his hat, showcasing a sleek, silver ponytail that flowed down his back. He placed his hat on the chair beside him.
“I’m surprised you arrived alone,” Roman stated with a smirk as he leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen.
“I’m not alone. Trust me,” Grandpa stated with dark, evil, hooded eyes. “Oh, and before we get started, let me make something perfectly fucking clear. You tell that whale of a woman, that big mama of yours, that I know it was her who sent me a razorblade pie.” The sides of Grandpa’s mouth twitched, as if he weren’t certain whether to laugh or yell. “Now, under normal circumstances, I’d make her eat a slice, but since you’ve moved in the right direction, I’ll spare her the misery.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your White trash womb shooter threatened me, son. She sent a dessert, but it wasn’t sweet.”
“I don’t know a damn thing ’bout no fuckin’ pie.”
Grandpa leaned back in his chair, too, matching his stance. He placed one leg over the other and rested his hand along his ankle, bringing focus to his large diamond rings, and black snakeskin boots.
“You may. You may not.” Grandpa shrugged. “Makes me not a damn bit of difference. I have to give it to her though—it was a shock comin’ from her.” He chuckled, seemingly impressed. “…A shock that she could resist eating that shit herself. Razor blades ’nd all. Greedy bitch.” He turned serious. Cold. He became enraged. He turned to lightning and hard rain.
…But I am the tree.
Grandpa waited for a response. A reaction of sorts. It was clear as day, written all over his face. Roman gave him nothing but a fallen, withered leaf and the shade.
Grandpa shifted in his seat and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a pen and a folded piece of paper. The contract. The old man unfolded it and slid it across Roman’s desk. Roman put Grandpa’s pen aside, and picked up the papers.
“What if I have second thoughts?”
“Now you listen here, you slimy, twenty-first century Elvis impersonator lookin’ fucker. This is how this is going to go down. You’re going to sign and date that contract.” He pointed to it with one long bejeweled finger. “Then, you are going to move some currency from one of the accounts that we previously discussed into yours, and after that, into my own. And you’re going to do that shit right in front of me. If you do not, I will walk right the fuck out of here, hunt down your boss, Mr. Eric Dearborn, and tell him every fucking thing. Even the shit you don’t think that I know.”
“And what would that be?”
“That he hired a whole damn thief to help run this financial operation. It would be all over the news, and once it hits your lengthy big time client list, well, you can kiss your narrow ass goodbye!” Grandpa chuckled and threw up his hands. “I will let them know that you’ve been stealin’ since you were a grubby-faced baby. Toys. Candy. Anything you could get your greedy hands on. You’ve always been a kleptomaniac. I’ll talk about how you stole shit from fellow Marines, including their girlfriends, and got kicked out. Dishonorable discharge. Mr. Sticky Fingers.”
“I already know that you’re fully aware of that. Where’s the surprise element that you promised?”
“Oh, I’m gettin’ there, you devious fucker. I’ll let them know about your brief stint in foster care—you got hauled off by the mall security guy for doin’ what? Stealing! Again!”
“I doubt that a stint in foster care will be blamed on the child, dear Grandfather. If anything, it’ll garner sympathy points.”
“I’ll say it to show how fucked up your family life was—unstable. Just like you. Fruit not fallin’ too far from the tree. I’ll talk about you stealin’ for your father so that he could get high and stop takin’ money out of your pig-faced mama’s purse. You’d take shit from stores and boost it, then give your no-good druggy daddy the money to shoot up his veins. I’ll tell ’em how you stole from your best friend, Tony… stole his damn sister and fucked her good. Yeah… a recent event.” Roman picked up his own pen and twirled it around. “Pretty thing she is. One thing is for sure, my grandsons always choose gorgeous women. Some women should be off limits though…” He sneered.
“You have no morals. You ain’t no kind of friend. You couldn’t even control yourself around your so-called brother’s sexy little siren of a sister! Greedy. Greedy. Greedy. Since you’ve gone and done it and helped that same friend get his business off the ground, I suppose he owed you. A small price to pay, right?” Grandpa stroked his beard. Roman remained the tree… “I wouldn’t mind a little nibble, a lil’ taste. Maybe if she’s too sweet, she’ll rot my teeth out and I’ll have to go to her place of business, get my teeth removed and suck on her pussy with just my gums. Do you think she’d like that?”