Thirty-Three
STONE
This is going to be the hardest conversation I've ever had to have, but I've put it off for as long as I could. I just wanted a few more days of Ariana and Nate looking at me like the man I desperately want to be, and not the man I really am–a thief, a liar, or a bastard.
Part of the reason why I'm a felon, why my life has turned out like this, is because I've always believed that I've had to go it alone. I was alone as a baby. Alone in school. Alone in foster care. And after Jack died, I was alone again.
It never dawned on me to ask for help. It wasn't something I'd ever been used to doing, but I have to do things differently if I expect different results. Jack taught me that. I have to trust someone for once. I have to ask for help. And it starts tonight.
"First, I want to say that I truly appreciate you taking me into your home, Nate. You have been more than gracious. Both you and Ariana."
"Of course, son. It's been a pleasure having you."
"With that said, this is going to be hard for me to say, but I've been lying to you. To both of you for some time."
I watch closely as his face drops.
"What is it, Stone. I'll help you if I can."
"I ask that you give me a second to explain everything in its entirety before you write me off."
"Go ahead and say your piece."
"Jack was a great father to me, but he had his demons. He gambled a lot. Bought women a lot. When he died he had a lot of debts and not much income. I'm sure there was some sort of death benefit pension payout I could have gotten from the army when he died, but I didn't know anything about it at the time, and I didn't think to ask for help. I didn't think anyone would help me."
"I'm sorry about that, Stone. I know I got defensive the last time we talked about this, but I should've done a better job of making sure you were okay. I'm sure Jack would have done the same for Ariana if the roles were reversed."
"Maybe...but anyway I was lost and lonely and angry, and I channeled all of that rage into some very dangerous habits. One of them was robbing drug dealers. Heroin dealers to be specific. I blamed them for ruining my life. So I targeted them. I'd rob them of a shipment, and dump it in the Hudson River."
Nate doesn't move a muscle.
In fact, he doesn't say a word.
Almost as if he knows where this conversation is headed.
To a place he wants no parts of.
"To earn money to live, and I was living well, I would shake down some of the smaller dealers, but my goal was to completely debilitate the heroin supply chain in my part of Brooklyn. Obviously, that was a bit ambitious. I made some mistakes. The biggest one being that I got caught holding a large amount of product. Now that I look back on it, I probably was set up.
"As you already know I was charged with possession and intent to sell, and I received a seven year sentence for it. Since I got pinched, the dealer I stole from knew how to find me. The smack I stole from him was worth seven million dollars on the street. He paid me a visit in prison. The dealer's goes by the name Bucky. His real name is Silas."
I wait for a reaction from Nate, but he still doesn't say a word, although his face grows harder and harder. Is he actually going to make me say it?
"And evidently he had partners. One of them supposedly being Jack."
"Your father."
"Yes."
"You would have known if your father was a drug dealer."
"You would think that wouldn't you, but I guess Jack had his demons like everyone else. Maybe he had a good reason for doing it at the time. I don't know. I guess I'll never know. Anyway, I'm telling you all this because this Silas person is blackmailing me."
"What does he want?"
"He wants his money or he wants me to hurt you or he wants me to die."
Nate stands up.
