Page 70

“I get most of my clothin’ hand-made and tailored, but I appreciate the compliment all the same. Now, about this liquor…” He blew smoke out the side of his mouth. “I’ve got two steakhouses in Dallas that could really use—”

“Hold on, just a moment.” Francesco put up his hand.

“Let’s toast.” He poured them each a glass of dry red wine.

Cyrus picked up his glass, and they raised them in the air at the same time.

“To infinite, wonderful surprises, and alliances!” They placed their drinks to their lips, and after sipping fell into a bit of small talk.

“Cyrus, I’m so happy you came.” He leaned back in his chair and studied the man sitting across from him. “You see, you and I go way back, and I’ve seen you change over time.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“Well, I always believed that for both of us, family came first. The blood, as you say.”

Cyrus’ forehead creased and his brows bunched. “That’s true. Nothin’ has changed about that. I prove it every day.”

“Do you?” Francesco loosely held on to his cigar.

“I think you have changed. Or maybe, you were always this way, but covered it well. Either way, we need to discuss this. Now, I’m not one to tell another man how to run his business,” he pointed at himself, “but I found it curious how when you asked me to help you with a guy—get his attention so to speak—ya never mentioned that he was your grandson until after the fact.”

Cyrus sat a bit straighter, then set his cigar in an ashtray. Smoke eddied past his face like a sheer white veil.

“This again? Kage and I have a complicated history, and I knew you wouldn’t understand,” a slightly nervous laugh fell from his lips, “but I wasn’t deliberately trying to hide it from you.”

“Well see, that’s just the thing, Cyrus…

I have grandchildren, just like you do. Many of them, actually.

Sixteen, to be exact, and one on the way, and no matter what, I couldn’t imagine hurting either of my daughters by puttin’ their sons, my grandchildren, in a mental institution against their will, on and off for three years.

” He narrowed his gaze on the man; his heart filled with disgust. “Don’t you think you were a little hard on the beaver? ” He smirked.

“No, Francesco, I don’t. That boy had a gun pointed at my head as I slept one night. Thankfully, I was a quicker draw than him, but I practiced mercy. I was able to get the gun away from him. I’m sure if your grandson pointed a gun to your fuckin’ slick back head, he’d be dead.”

“Nah, only if I was left with no other choice. But see, it was your choices that led to that night, isn’t that right? He was a kid… an angry kid, and you did something to cause that anger, Cyrus. I want you to be man enough to tell me what that was. To finally admit it.”

“What is this? Groundhog Day? We’ve already talked about this.”

“No, I talked, but you danced around the discussion. I asked questions that were left unanswered. Before we move forward with the liquor deal, I need those replies, Cyrus, and I need them right now.”

“You mentioned that shit once before, and I told you I hadn’t done anything to him, but tried to raise and take care of the boy.

I should be applauded instead of scrutinized!

His daddy was dead, and all he had was a mama with stars and butterflies in her head.

A Wanna-Be Ms. Sylvia Brown who lived near a damn funeral parlor and graveyard.

Kage was born crazy! Let me tell ya, this boy would draw all kinds of disturbing drawings.

People being murdered and tortured, but he was only a child!

And you know what? The drawings were good!

He could even draw reflections on a gotdamn glass.

Won all kinds of drawing awards and shit.

Detailed down to the pores on a bastard’s skin.

Talented or not, Kage is out of his fucking mind, and I don’t think I like your tone this afternoon, or this line of questioning one gotdamn bit.

I don’t have to answer to you. This is family business! What the fuck are you tryna pull?”

“I’m just trying to clear the air.” He smiled at him as he tossed up his hands.

“Make things perfectly understandable. I want to get my mitts around this because you see,” he leaned forward and clasped his hands, “if we’re going to continue to work together, brother, and be business partners, then hell, I gotta trust you, right?

” He grinned. “Surely you can understand that, Cyrus. So, let me ask you one more motherfucking time, Old Wilde Bull of Houston, Texas—why in the world would a young child, a mere boy who barely had pubic hair, who at one point adored you and spent almost every moment of his life with you up until that point, suddenly decide that Grandpa must die?”

Just then, two of his men came into the office, each holding guns. Cyrus casually tossed them each a glance, then directed his gaze back at him.

“I. TOLD. YOU. He’s crazy. There’s no need for any rhyme or reason with craziness. It just comes! Hell, maybe he had some sort of delusions, or maybe he was resentful? Who knows?!”

“And he never told you the reason?”

“No!”

“And you were never curious enough to ask?”

“I did, but he wouldn’t tell me!”

“Hmmm, I see… Well, Cyrus, I did a little more digging into your activities this past year or so… Funny, instead of answers, I found more questions—like, was your grandson Lennox, the gym rat, now successful gym franchise owner, who married that sexy little siren of a lawyer, former exotic dancer, in need of a good hurtin’, too?

Was he crazy as well? Had he tried to kill you, ol’ Cyrus, out of the clear blue?

Is that why you tried to ruin him, threaten to put him behind bars and God only knows what else?

How about your other grandson, Roman Wilde?

The pretty boy Marine with a mind for numbers, wicked sense of humor, and the charming gift of gab?

Was that Wall Street mogul insane in the membrane, too, motherfucker?

So much so that you tried to extort him?

Your own flesh and blood? How about his daddy—your own son? Was he a fucking lunatic, too?!

“You put a hit out on your own fuckin’ son while he rotted away in prison! What kinda man are ya?! Now, don’t get me wrong. There’s nothin’ wrong with family working together. You know I support such a thing, and encourage it—but not like that , Cyrus. That’s not the way you do it.”

“Do you really think I care about your opinion regardin’ this, bastard? Do you really think that you’re in any position to be doling out advice on how family matters should play out? I don’t recall calling you and asking you a gotdamn thing, Francesco.”

“Yeah, that’s true… you didn’t ask.” He shrugged.

“You don’t ask a lot of things, that you should, Cyrus.

You just DO SHIT. A lot of fucked up, nauseating, imprudent, exorbitant shit.

But here’s my opinion anyway. Seems you had it out for both of your grandsons.

And now, you’re puttin’ the squeeze on Kage.

Only Kage, ya see, has dragged me into this war, too, because of what he did, but he did it because of what YOU did.

” He pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“You know how I feel about family, Cyrus… the family that plays together and prays together stays together. You’re not treatin’ these boys like blood.

You demand honor, loyalty and respect, but give none.

These are not little children… they’re grown men who’ve told you they’re not interested in your business proposal.

But you want them to stay. No, that’s not love. That’s hatred.”

“Is this some sort of self-help seminar? A Dr. Phil episode?”

“You’re treatin’ those men like cattle. You can be disappointed in them.

You can wish the best for them—nothin’ wrong with wanting these fellas to join your business—there’s strength in the blood, I get it—but to force your will on them because you have very specific desires and they won’t comply is, well, sinister at best.”

“Well, aren’t you somethin’? I don’t take orders from you!

I follow the Bible. I made a promise to God!

I don’t take that promise lightly. You Catholics ain’t even real Christians!

I wouldn’t expect you to understand!” The man laughed mirthlessly, then sucked his teeth.

“How dare you act like the family moral police, sittin’ there judging me!

My love for them is what drives me to do what must be done!

Something you wouldn’t comprehend. Ain’t you got ’bout three or four kids outside of your marriage?

” Cyrus smirked. “Let’s ask your wife how SHE feels about this holier than thou attitude you’ve taken on today, you son of a bitch, when you’re nothin’ but a damn hypocrite.

You’ve got at least two other families put up in beautiful houses, almost as nice as this one, and you visit ’em, those young ladies that pop out your illegitimate babies, one after another, while you sit over here and play house and land of make-believe with a woman you called your bride for over forty years.

I saved your ass more times than I can count, Francesco, and the one time you do me a favor and it doesn’t turn out the way you wish, you want to lecture me about how I run my business, and how I handle my family.

Keep your nose out it. Fuck you, Francesco. ”

Francesco scratched his chin while Cyrus’s lips curled in a black, evil smile.

“I’m sorry, it’s too late for me to ignore your personal matters.

You involved me, so, now I’m here. I don’t like what you’ve been up to, Mr. Wilde.

I am very fucking disappointed… Those are your children’s children, for God’s sake.

I can’t trust a man who would hurt his grandchildren this way.

I can’t trust a man who would send my family after his own, like some wild dogs after a pork chop thief, and leave out important details that lead to a tragic ending, then have the fuckin’ audacity to blame me when the shit goes south!

Nah… there is no ‘Fuck me,’ Cyrus. There’s only, ‘Fuck You,’” He seethed.

Cyrus pushed his jacket away from his hip, displaying a revolver. His ice blue eyes turned to dull bits of coal.

“Francesco, for the last time, my personal affairs are none of your concern. I think you know that if I don’t leave out of here in one piece, you’ll start a war between your family and mine.

You don’t want that.” He grinned. “Several people know that I’m here, too, so don’t try any slick shit.

You have far more enemies than me, and I lead you in numbers tenfold.

My soldiers span this entire state. Not only will you be soakin’ in your own blood before the next sunrise, but so will your entire family, that you claim to love so fucking much.

I think we better end this meeting right now before someone gets hurt. ”

Cyrus stood to his feet, picked up the still-burning cigar, tossed it on his rug, and smashed it into the fabric with his cowboy boot.

Just then, the office double doors opened.

All eyes focused on a tall, six-foot-seven fiend—a demon who now stood in the shadows and stingy streams of light.

He took a couple more steps forward, and his ice blue eyes shined like blue topaz.

Eyes that were the same color as Cyrus’s stared back at them.

Kage donned a gray cowboy hat and dark denim jeans. Around his chest he’d strapped several rounds of ammunition, and in his big, meaty hands, adorned with tattoos and thick, shiny rings, he held a big ass machine gun.

Francesco delighted in the way Cyrus’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out.

The rude fucker was finally rendered speechless.

No more throwin’ his country fried weight around.

No more grandstanding and carrying on. No more pathological lying and senseless bravado.

Just a man looking at a part of himself, and another looking at his fate…

“Kage and I had a nice chat the other day, Cyrus. In person. He told me the reason why he tried to kill you, all those years ago. That boy wasn’t crazy, was he?

He was heartbroken.” He stood and pushed his chair in, then took a drag of his cigar.

“Cyrus, what you did to my family is unjustifiable, but what you did to your own is deplorable. You may not believe I know God because I’m Catholic, but sir, I definitely do.

You’ll burn in hell, and God won’t reach down and stop the fire simply because you’re Southern Baptist.” He cackled.

“…And yeah, I may be there with you, twin flames, so to speak, but let me tell you somethin’.

God will be able to charge me with a lot of sins, but He’ll never accuse me of sellin’ out my own flesh and blood.

Cyrus made a strange noise– like a strangled word, wrapped around a groan.

“Oh, and you were right, Cyrus. I’m a horrible husband.

I’ll give you that. I’m an adulterer. A philanderer.

A killer. An extortionist. An abuser. A pervert.

A liar when necessary, and much more, but I would never hurt a hair on the heads of any of my children or grandchildren.

THAT’S FAMILY! MY SEED! You disgust me, Cyrus.

Get him the fuck outta here,” he tsked. “Kage, he’s all yours… ”

Kage marched up to his grandfather, machine gun aimed at him, and removed his weapon from his pocket, tossing it onto the floor, then patted him down to ensure that was all he was armed with.

Then, without a word, Kage wrapped his gigantic hand around Cyrus’ neck.

The old man clawed and gurgled as Kage dragged him slowly out of his office, down the hall past the large painting of the Madonna, and out the golden front door…

Arrivederci…