"You hated them."
"My mother's a cold fish, stepfather's pussy-whipped. And there's Sybill, the perfect daughter. I couldn't wait to get the hell out and live."
"I don't know about your parents. They don't have anything to do with me either. But Sybill never hurt you. She took you in, took both of us in when you landed on her doorstep, broke and with nowhere else to go."
"So she could lord it over me. Goddamn superior bitch."
"Is that why you stole from her when we were in New York? Cleaned her out and took off after she'd given you a place to stay?"
"I take what I need. That's how you get ahead in life. Had to support you, didn't I?"
"Let's not bullshit. You never gave a damn about me. The only reason you didn't take off without me, dump me on Sybill, was because you knew she cared about me. So you took me away, you stole her things because you hated her. You stole so you could buy drugs."
"Oh yeah, she'd've loved it if I'd left you behind. She could've gone around feeling righteous, telling everybody how worthless I was. Fuck her. Whatever I took out of her place, I was entitled to. Gotta look out for number one in this life. Never could teach you that."
"You taught me plenty." When Gloria rattled the ice in her glass, he signaled the bartender for another drink. "Ray didn't even know about you, but you hated him. When he found out, when he tried to help you, you only hated him more."
"He owed me. Bastard doesn't keep his dick zipped, knocks up some idiot coed, he oughta pay."
"And he paid you. He didn't know Barbara was pregnant with you, he never knew you existed. But when you told him, he paid you. And it wasn't enough. You tried to ruin him with lies. Then you used his decency against him and sold me to him like I was a puppy you were tired of."
"Fucking A I was tired of you. Kept you around for ten years, cramping my style. Old man Quinn owed me for giving him a grandson. And it all worked out pretty well for you, didn't it?"
"I guess I owe you for that one." He lifted his beer in a toast, sipped. "But it worked out pretty well for you, at least when he was alive. You just kept hitting him up for more money, using me as the bait."
"Hey, he could've tossed you back anytime. You were nothing to him, just like I was nothing."
"Yeah, some people are just stupid, weak, natural marks, believing a promise made to a ten-year-old boy needs to be kept. The same type who think that same kid deserves a shot at a decent life, a home, a family. He'd have given you the same, if you'd wanted it."
"You think I wanted to be stuck in some backwater bumfuck town, paying homage to an old man who picks up strays?" She gulped her gin. "That's your scene, not mine. And you got it, so what're you bitching about? And if you want to keep it, you'll pay. Just like you've always paid. You got the down payment?"
"How much you figure you've gotten from me over the years, Gloria? Between what you bled out of Ray, what you've been bleeding out of me? Must be a couple hundred thousand, at least. Of course, you never got anything out of my brothers. You tried—the usual lies, threats, intimidation—but they didn't bleed so easy. You do better with old men and kids."
She smirked. "They'd've paid if I'd wanted them to pay. I had better things to do. Bigger fish to fry. You wanna fry your own fish now, keep that fancy art career you've got going from getting screwed up, wanna keep sticking it to the senator's granddaughter, you pay for it."
"So you said. Let me get the terms clear. I pay you, one million dollars starting with the ten-thousand-dollar down payment tonight—"
"Right, in cash, or you'll go to the press, to Dru's family, and spin another web of lies about how you were used and abused by the Quinns, starting with Ray. You'll smear them and me and Dru along with it. The poor, desperate woman, girl really, struggling to raise a child on her own, begging for help only to be forced to give up the child."
"Has a nice ring. Lifetime Movie of the Week."
"No mention in there of the tricks you turned while that child was in the next room—or the men you let touch him. No mention of the drugs, the booze, the beatings."
"Bring out the violins." She leaned in, very close. "You were a pain in the ass. You're lucky I kept you around as long as I did." And lowered her voice. "You're lucky I didn't sell you to one of my johns. Some would've paid top dollar."
"You would have, sooner or later."
She shrugged. "Had to get something out of you, didn't I?"
"You've been tapping me for money since I was fourteen. I've paid you to protect my family, myself. Mostly I've paid you because the peace of mind was worth a hell of a lot more than the money. I've let you blackmail me."
"I want what's due me." She snatched the third drink. "I'm making you a deal here. One lump-sum payment and you keep your nice, boring life. Screw with me, and you'll lose it all."
"A million dollars or you'll do whatever you can to hurt my family, ruin my career and destroy my relationship with Dru."
"In a nutshell. Pay up."
He nudged his beer aside, met her eyes. "Not now, not ever again."
She grabbed his shirt in her fist, yanked his face close to hers. "You don't want to fuck with me."
"Oh yeah, I do. I have." He reached in his pocket, pulled out a mini recorder. "Everything we've said is on here. Might be a problem in court, if I decide to go to the cops."
When she grabbed for it, he cuffed her wrist with his hand. "Speaking of cops, they'll be interested to know you jumped bail down in Fort Worth. Solicitation and possession. You go public and some hard-ass skip tracer is going to be really happy to scoop you up and haul you back to Texas."
"You son of a bitch."
"Truer words," he said mildly. "But you go right ahead and try to sell your version of things. I figure anybody who wants to write a story about all this will be really interested in this informal interview."
"I want my money." She shrieked it, tossed what was left in her glass in his face.
The quartet playing pool looked over. The biggest of them tapped his cue against his palm as he sized Seth up.
She leaped off the stool, and fury had her practically in tears. "He stole my money."
The four men started forward. Seth rose from the stool.
And his brothers walked in, ranged themselves beside him.
"That seems to even things up." Cam tucked his thumbs in his front pockets and gave Gloria a fierce grimace. "Been a while."
"You bastards. You're all fucking bastards. I want what's mine."
"We've got nothing of yours." Ethan spoke quietly. "We never did."
"I take anything from her?" Seth asked the bartender.
"Nope." He continued to wipe the
bar. "You want trouble, take it outside."
Phillip scanned the faces of the four men. "You want trouble?"
The big man tapped his cue twice more. "Bob says he didn't take nothing, he didn't take nothing. None of my never mind."
"How about you, Gloria? You want trouble?" Philip asked her.
Before she could speak, the door opened. The women came in.
"Goddamn it," Cam muttered under his breath. "Should've figured it."
Dru walked directly to Seth, slid her hand into his. "Hello again, Gloria. It's funny, my mother doesn't remember you at all. She isn't the least bit interested in you. But my grandfather is." She took a piece of paper out of her pocket. "This is the number to his office on the Hill. He'll be happy to speak to you if you'd like to call him."
Gloria slapped the paper from Dru's fingers, then retreated quickly when Seth stepped forward.
"I'll make you sorry for this." She shoved through them, pausing briefly to snarl at Sybill.
"You shouldn't have come back, Gloria," Sybill told her. "You should've cut your losses."
"Bitch. I'll make you sorry. I'll make you all sorry." With one last bitter glance, she shoved through the door.
"You were supposed to stay home," Seth told her.
"No, I wasn't." Dru touched his cheek.
* * *
Contents - Prev
THE HOUSE AND THE YARD were crowded with people. Crabs were steaming, and a half dozen picnic tables were loaded with food.
The Quinns' annual Fourth of July celebration was well under way.
Seth pulled a beer from the keg, grabbed some shade, and took a break from the conversations to sketch.
His world, he thought. Friends, family, slow Shore voices and squealing kids. The smells of spiced crabs, of beer, of talcum powder and grass. Of the water.
A couple of kids were out in a Sunfish with a bright yellow sail. Ethan's dog was splashing in the shallows with Aubrey—old times.
He heard Anna's laugh and the cheerful clink of horseshoes.
Independence Day, he thought. He would remember this one for the rest of his life.
"We've been doing this here since before you were born," Stella said from beside him.