“That’s what you get,” I manage between breaths, “for putting cigarettes out on me.”
“Let’s go,” Chace says, still shaking his head as he heads out, limping slightly. Igor moves to support my dad as he follows, my father dragging one leg a little behind him.
“I’ll be right with you three,” Chace calls over his shoulder, waving us on.
I step past him, already done, already finished with this.
Behind me, I hear Gideon laughing.
I reach the door.
Open it.
Step out into the corridor.
The door shuts.
The gunshots that follow are in quick succession, three cracks, echoing down the hall.
A second later, the door opens again and Chace steps out, adjusting his cuffs like he’s just wrapped up a meeting.
“God be with them.”
I glance at Chace, then back down the corridor, shaking my head.
“Jesus,” I mutter. “I thought I was bad.”
“Dad.”
“What?” Jonathon grunts.
“That bullet in your ass…”
“What about it.” He winces, as we round a corner.
“We’re even now.”
“You say shit like that… son. What did I do to you exactly, except for want the best for you. For you to be strong?”
“Strong? Dad. You put cigarettes out on me…” he pauses pushing off Igor. He hops around. Facing me.
“Trey…”
“You beat the shit out of mom. I would step in and you’d beat the fucking tar out of me…you know what, no fuck it, we aren’t even. We aren’t even close.”
“Son…”
“What?”
“Your mom was trying to kill you.”
What the fuck does that mean?
“You American families, just like Kardashian’s, eh, rabbit?” Igor says, he pats me on the shoulder, ruining my canary cardigan with his bloody handprint. I take it off, wrapping it around his hand. He rolls his eyes like I am needlessly fussing, while I try to process what the fuck my dad meant by that.
Your mom was trying to kill you.
Chapter Forty-One
