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)
Meanwhile Doc is tapping on his computer.
“I’d go faster if I were you,” Dad says to him.
“Joe, I’m doing the best I can. My hands are shaking.”
I close my ears to what is happening. But I remain alert. Totally alert to the gun strapped to my ankle. Because if my life—or my father’s—is threatened, I will have to react quickly.
I pull out another file folder, keeping one eye on my father behind the desk. I leaf through it quickly. It’s mostly public service bills, which makes sense since the file folder says public service.
I replace it in the file cabinet and take the next folder.
“Finally,” Dad says.
I keep looking through the folders. More household expenditures.
What a waste of time.
“Brock…”
I look up at my father.
“Come here.”
“What do you need?”
“Doc and I are going to go through these files on his computer,” Dad says, no tremor anywhere in his voice. “I’m going to need you to hold the gun.”
My heart drops to my stomach. “Dad…”
“Son, this is a necessary evil.”
“I’m busy,” I say.
“Brock…”
No. I can’t go there.
This is how it happens. You cross the line once, and then it gets easier to cross.
I can’t let that happen to me.
I can’t let that happen to my father.
He’s already crossed this line. “Dad, sit next to him and point the gun to his heart as you go through the documents. It’s more important that I stay where I am.”
My father doesn’t turn to look at me. His gaze is fixed on Doc Sheraton.
Just when I’m sure he’s not going reply at all—
“All right, Brock. We’ll do it your way. This time. Bring me a chair.”
I don’t like being involved with this at all, but I slide one of the other chairs behind the desk, and Dad sits down next to Doc Sheraton, who’s white as a ghost.
Doc Sheraton is frozen. He doesn’t move.
If it were me, I’d try to overpower Dad at this point, try to get the gun from him.
But that’s what I’ve been taught to do.
Doc Sheraton is a veterinarian. He doesn’t take lives. He saves them.
Except not always. Veterinarians put animals down all the time. Perhaps Doc has made peace with death.
God, what am I even thinking?
How have we come to this?
Doc is involved with something. Brittany all but admitted it. And if that something is as heinous as I believe it may be, perhaps my father is right to aim a gun at Doc’s head.
Or to his heart, as it is aimed now.
I return to my work in the file cabinet. The top drawer has proved to be fruitless. So I open the next drawer.
And right at the front of the folders is one that is marked F Corp.
“I should never have said what I said,” Doc Sheraton says.
“But you did, Mark. You did, and now I’m pretty sure whatever you’re doing is not good.”
“Not good for…” Doc Sheraton stops.
“Not good for what?” Dad asks.
“I need to stop talking. You’ve got my nerves on edge.”
“Indeed I do. But you’re going to tell us everything you know eventually. You do know that, right?”
“I don’t care about my own life,” Doc says. “I haven’t cared about it since Sheila died.”
He must be bluffing. Everyone has a survival instinct. I grab the folder marked F Corp and run my fingers over the manila covering.
Inside may be the secrets we’re looking for.
And part of me? Part of me does not want to open this file folder.
“Those,” Dad says. “Those documents, Doc. Open them.”
Doc’s hands shake.
And then—
“Daddy, what are you doing in—” Brittany gasps. “Oh my God!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
RORY
Donny returns to the deck with another round of Fat Tires, but Jesse shakes his head and excuses himself. With him gone, the tension decreases instantaneously.
“Sorry,” I say. “Our brother can be rude as shit.”
“Yeah,” Donny says. “But he has reason to be upset.”
“He had reason to be upset,” Callie says. “It’s been fourteen years.”
“I know, but if what we’re finding out about my family is true…” Donny shakes his head. “I was good. I was a damned good football player that year, but so was your brother. I wasn’t lying when I told him I’m not sure I could’ve chosen between us either. And now? I may well have gotten it because of my name.”
“Whatever the circumstances are,” I say, “it’s been over a decade. It’s time for my brother to get over it. And for you as well.”
Donny nods. “I want to be a member of your family. I’m going to be a member of your family, and I don’t want any bad blood.”
“If there’s time, I’ll try to work on Jesse a little more while we’re gone,” I say. “He’ll see reason.”
“He has to,” Callie says. “You’re also all but married to a Steel as well.”
My cheeks warm. “I think that’s putting the cart before the horse.”