I stand outside a door the size of Texas. Kaitlyn lives in a painted lady, as I often hear my mother and others describe these massive renovated Victorian homes. It’s all girly and shit, painted yellow, purple, and green, with flowers on the porch and a white wicker rocker. I wonder where the fucking lemonade is. God, I’m in a foul mood again. I should’ve brought my flask along. My ass is about to hit the ground from the shots I had before I left, but I could always down another at times like this.
Her door opens a moment after my first knock. Crap, she’s in a robe. Damn it. My eyes scan her body and stop on her bare legs. Okay, yeah, I’m a dumbass. This was a fucking bad idea.
“You look devilishly handsome, Cove.” Her fingers push into the front of my pants and I’m pulled inside. She locks the door and I manage to step away before her hand reaches further down and snags my dick.
“Cut the shit, Kaitlyn. People like you disgust me.”
“People like what?” She brushes her body alongside mine and I stumble back.
“People who want to fuck the son of the man who fathered their child. People who play dirty games to get what they want. You know your daughter was assaulted, right? And yet you’re gonna fucking attack me, after everything’s that’s happened today. You whore.”
“Such harsh words coming from an Everton,” she pauses and takes the Paul Jameson article from her purse, which tells me she’s seen my father some time after he left the Scarlett this morning. “I did see my daughter today, and yes, I’m devastated that such a thing would happen to her, but not surprised. I told you she...”
“Wait. What did you say? Not surprised? That’s bullshit. No parent who cared about their child would say such a thing.”
“No parent who cared about their child would ignore her for her entire life either. Is that how your father treated you growing up? Is that fair? Was he around for you, or did he disappear like he did with Ivy? Did he protect you from the bad men, Cove?” She waves the article in front of my face.
I want to smack this woman. My fists clench, my heart pounds and I’m starting to feel dizzy. “Why do you have the article? Did you set it by your money so Ivy would come across it, hoping it would eventually get back to me or my father?”
“It’s the only photo I’ve ever found of your father, besides the ones involving his court case. If I decide to talk to Ivy about him, then I believe she deserves to see the face of the man who abandoned her. Don’t you?”
“So the time was now. You decided out of the blue to do this? What the fuck do you want from me anyway? A good fuck, ‘cause that’s what it seems like. If you want to get laid there’re plenty of people in this world who you can pay. I’m not one of them.”
Her sarcastic laughter echoes throughout her home as she shakes her head. “No? Not anymore?”
“You bitch. You don’t know anything about my past.”
“Oh, but I do.” A voice I recognize from Jameson Industries, Paul’s porn company, bores a hole through my chest. “Hello Cove.”
My stomach is in my throat, literally. Vomit comes part way up and I swallow to keep it down, leaving a burning sensation from my mouth to my gut. Fuck me.
“Not going to turn around and say hello, my prized friend?”
My heart has now officially stopped beating. This is a set up. “This isn’t about Ivy at all, is it?” I whisper, keeping my back turned from the evil in the room. Kaitlyn smiles and sits on her sofa with her legs crossed and a look of victory plastered across her face.
“Did I happen to mention I met this nice man last year who paid me a fortune to keep your father’s release from prison out of the St. Louis Tribune?” she says. “Boy, that could have been our biggest local story of the year; an innocent man finally given his freedom,” she looks past me and smiles. “One of the prison guards told me about it, but then along comes David, and, well... you can’t turn down that kind of money.”
“David,” I whisper. Everything’s always about money. People do some fucking dumbass shit for cash. I’m gonna pass out and I don’t know if it’s from the alcohol or the fact that the man behind me is the devil.
“Cove, you’re as white as a ghost,” Kaitlyn says,
“Do you know anything about this man you’ve so carelessly let into your home? Do you know what you’ve done? He has you now. You took a bribe from him and there’s no turning back. You’re in.”
“Hey dickhead, you don’t sound very happy to see me, why don’t you turn around and play nice.” David’s voice sends a shiver through my bones, and I know if I don’t turn, he’ll have a gun pointed at my head in a second flat.
“Ahh, there’s the face I know and love. How you been, Star?”
David Rosen is the main reason my father’s out of jail. He’s a lawyer with a shitload of connections, and I’ve come to believe he’s involved with the mob. Or he is the mob; an all-powerful man who once tried to force himself on my wife, whose twin sons were Paul Jameson’s bodyguards, and who was the man who began Jameson Industries; using Paul as a front to cover his ass if anything went amok. He’s older, possibly in his sixties, with a tough as nails Harrison Ford personality, and unfortunately, I’m also related to the dumbfuck. He’s my mother’s uncle.
“What do you want, David?” The words barely escape my mouth as he steps forward with a gun in hand.
“Dear Lord, you never mentioned anything about guns.”
“Sit down, Kaitlyn,” he gestures his piece in her direction, signaling for everyone to keep cool. “You reek of alcohol, kid. You old enough to drink?” He pats my shoulder and laughs. “Take it easy, loosen up, you know I’m just having some fun with one of my old pals.”
“Tell me what you want,” the words whistle through my clenched teeth. I need to call Haverty. Shit, I should’ve had him drive me here, or listened to him in the first place when he said to give it all a rest.
“I think a discussion between the two of us is long overdue. Kaitlyn, go fix us a drink. Something hard for this lad. He likes a good whiskey, if I recall.”
“No, I’ve had enough.” I need to sober up as quickly as possible. My eyes are still blurry and there’s two of David before me.
“Go,” he barks. “And stay away from your phone,” he calls out to her. “Have a seat, Cove.”
“No, I’ll stand.”
He takes a slow intimidating walk around me. Without warning, my arm is behind my back and my face planted on Kaitlyn’s sofa. He’s fast, that motherfucker.
“So shithead. You’re not even going to ask how my sons are doing? Boy, they sure do miss you. They can’t wait to get out of prison and come knocking on your door.”
“They deserve to rot in their cells,” I mumble into the sofa cushion, only to scream in agony a moment later. “Fuck! Stop!” My ring finger’s snapped back, broken, and his hand is on the next in line.
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll break all of them.”
“I’m sorry,” I pant. “It must be the alcohol talking. Don’t... please.”
“So you think my boys deserve to be in prison just for being Paul’s bodyguards?”
I can’t help but laugh, even though I’m starting to sweat from the pain. I feel pressure on my next finger as he slowly pushes it back. “Don’t,” I yell into the cushion; trapped under the weight of his body.
“Laughter? Are my sons a fucking joke to you?”
“Your sons are dicks. One drugged my wife and both of them have beat the shit out of me at one time or another, not to mention the role they played in the dirty underground porn ring... Awh!”
Snapped. A second finger pushed back to my wrist. I pass out for a moment until he shakes me back to reality.
“Jesus, David. Let him up. Here, I have your drinks, come on, enough.”
The weight disappears, and I’m able to breathe. David downs his shot, while I sluggishly rise and hold the wrist of my injured hand. I take the drink from Kaitlyn, not for a need to stay drunk, but rather in an attempt to deal with the pain.