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)
“Your fucking father was a defiant and whiny child who grew up to become a bitch that couldn’t hack it! What you see on this video is completely out of context. I raise boys to be MEN! Not mice!”
“You can’t piss on me and tell me it’s raining, do a Nazi salute and tell me it’s just a wave, or put a grenade in my mouth and tell me it’s chocolate. I’ve played games on people my whole life. I recognize a con, a liar, a miscreant when I see one. I’m not goin’ back and forth with your delusional ass about this. Now, that contract may be blank, but you best believe, everything my father is today has your signature on it. I wanted to kill you today, God knows I did, but I didn’t do it.”
Jasper groaned, then drew quiet once again.
“I know you, Roman. You don’t have the—”
“I didn’t do it because I value my freedom, more than I value you being worm food. BUT LIKE I SAID, MOTHERFUCKER, I’LL DO IT IF YOU PUSH ME. I lied. I do have somethin’ to lose. I got someone who loves me. She’s waitin’ for me to come back home to her, keep her warm at night. I have a best friend who needs my support during a tough time in his life. I’ve got a mama who is my world and needs her son to help remind her of how special she is. I’ve got a father who needs my prayers, financial support for his legal matters, and companionship due to his new disability, thanks to you. Oh, and that fucker you sicced on him…the one that sliced my daddy’s throat? He’s dead. I made sure of it. Grandpa, my daddy ain’t been a good father, but at least I can say in the last few years, even behind bars, he tried the best he could.
“If I offed you, people would put two and two together. You’ve been at my job. At the restaurant. There’s been tension. Problems. Some folks, your little cult members that you’ve hoodwinked, couldn’t fathom Mr. Cyrus the Wilde Bull bein’ anything but an upstandin’ Christian citizen. That’s why I’d have to pull the sympathy card, but I imagine some people would be doing a little jig when you were finally dead, too. At least behind closed doors. You’ve got some folks believing you’re one of the good guys. But the rest of us,” he pointed to himself with a sharp smile, “your grandsons? We know better.”
“You don’t know anything about me, Roman,” Grandpa said cooly. Death in his eyes. “You just think that you do.”
“I know enough. I can’t have you looking like no martyr. But I’ll take my chances if you make it so.”
“You might walk away today, but there’s always tomorrow. Nobody is going to help you, Roman. NOBODY.” Grandpa smirked.
“You know damn well that I’ve got six cousins who will go to bat for me up in that courtroom, a ballroom, a restroom, or your tomb, in a heartbeat. I might even just injure you like I did Jasper here. Then let the world see that shameful shit on that tape. That way you can make it to prison, too. Old and crippled.” He gleamed.
“You’re living in a fantasy, boy.”
“Seein’ as how you’re on tape soliciting a BOY TO COMMIT MURDER, I doubt it! Your own gotdamn son! That tape alone is enough to get some serious prison time, not to mention, ruin your precious status in the community. You think any judge in the land is going to let what you did fly?! I don’t care how many of them you’ve put in your back pocket, how many police officers and lawyers you’ve given hush money to! Every dog has its day. Took your own boy out huntin’ on a human prey excursion, just to appease your fragile ego. You’re weak, motherfucker!”
Grandpa’s features hardened. “I regret the day you were born. I regret the day your father was born, too. Neither of you should be in existence.”
“I’m certain your mama felt the same way about you, Grandpa. We know your father did.”
Grandpa’s eyes turned pitch black. His fist clamped, and a strange gurgling noise ebbed from his tight lips. Like some demon drowning in their own spit.
“You’re in deep shit, old man. You’ve always enjoyed throwing my past in my face. Well, yours ain’t so squeaky clean, either.”
Grandpa laughed at this and shook his head.
“You hear this shit, Jasper?”
Jasper groaned and rolled onto his other side. “I need to get to the hospital, Roman…” the injured man murmured in agony.
“Jasper, I’m sure you do. When that happens is up to your boss, though. Grandpa, who do you think they’ll believe? Some psychotic, rich, white-haired redneck bastard affiliated with the Southern mafia, who was never fully accepted by the upper echelons of society, or a decorated, silver star awarded, Gunnery Sergeant named Eric Dearborn? The successful money mogul and businessman, retired Marine with a stellar reputation who’s been on the front cover of at least five prestigious financial magazines and the ABC mornin’ financial news hour?” Grandpa’s smile faded. “It’s all clicking now, isn’t it? It won’t be a courtroom about you and me. A jury of your peers. No, it’ll be about you, against society. This cruel country hates poor folk…No matter how rich you are, old man, in someone’s eye, you’re STILL poor, white trash.”