Page 62 of Westin
Mollohan turned on Westin, revealing a nice bruise forming just below his bottom lip. “I think someone who resorts to fisticuffs instead of words must not have learned a damn thing, no matter how much philosophy he studied!”
“Then you were paying attention. And here I thought you were more interested in your damn phone than you were in the people who were right there, right in front of you, asking for your attention.” Westin shook his head. “We poor may not be educated, but at least we know how to appreciate what we have.”
Mollohan’s face reddened. “How dare you!”
“You’re so worried about who’s spending time with your daughter… why don’t you put down your phone and get to know her a little? I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”
“Watch yourself, boy!”
“I’m sorry I wasted my time trying to get close to you.” Westin shook his head, feeling as though he finally had twenty-twenty vision for the first time. He’d had his suspicions before, but now he could really see the man Dominic Mollohan was, and he felt sorry for the women in his life because they had no idea. Just like his mother. “You’re not worth my time.”
Mollohan’s fists tightened at his sides, his face so red he looked like he might explode. “How dare you talk to me like that! I could destroy you with one phone call. You know that, don’t you?”
“Make up your mind. Am I a loser with no worth, or someone with enough worth you could bother yourself to destroy me? Can’t have it both ways.”
Westin smiled as the redness in Mollohan’s face darkened even more, amused by the power he suddenly appeared to have over this man who seemed to think he ruled the world. But that amusement didn’t belie the pressure in his chest, the disappointment he was still feeling, and the sadness he held on to for his mother’s sake. She’d so believed in this man. He was glad she wasn’t around to see this, to see what he’d become, assuming he’d ever been the honest, kind man she’d believed him to be.
“Gentlemen!”
Miss Dulcie moved between the two men, her slight body hardly a physical barrier to their animosity, but the respect Westin felt for her pushing him back. He backed away, standing half a room away from Mollohan, not interested in a repeat of the night before. Not here. Not in front of Miss Dulcie. After all, he was a better man than Mollohan.
At least, he wanted to be.
Mollohan turned away and moved to the glass doors that looked out on the back porch, his hands behind his back. He was silent for a long while as Miss Dulcie approached Westin, taking his hands lightly in her own. She didn’t say anything, just held his hands and looked up into his face, her expression saying more than any words ever could.
“Asa Howard stole three hundred acres from my father, and he built this house right in the middle of it.”
Miss Dulcie stiffened. “He didn’t steal anything!”
Mollohan turned, his dark eyes moving disdainfully over Miss Dulcie. “I don’t care what the legal system had to say about it. My father put pieces of Rocking D up as collateral in dozens of card games, and not a single one of his opponents ever took it seriously. Asa had no right to believe it was a genuine bet!”
In true Miss Dulcie style, she took a seat on the couch and crossed her hands in her lap. “That was between your father and my Asa long before you or I got involved. Who are we to question what they agreed to?”
“My father didn’t agree!”
“His name is on the contract, Mr. Mollohan.” She smiled sweetly. “And, like I said, that was long before I got involved in Golden Sphinx, and long before you took over Rocking D. Also, as you pointed out, the courts have settled this argument as well.”
“We’ll see what the courts will say when I call the police and tell them how one of your men burst into my house and attacked me last night!”
“That’s not what happened!” Westin cried even as Miss Dulcie stood and moved between the two of them once more.
“You do what you need to do, Mr. Mollohan,” Miss Dulcie told him. “But I must warn you that if you bring false charges against one of my men, I will be forced to enlist the help of my lawyers.”
“You think that scares me, Mrs. Howard? We all know about you here in this town. How Asa picked you up out of the gutter, how he only made you his wife because you were carrying his bastard! You really think walking around with the Howard name makes you any better than the trash you were born into?”
“You’re playing with fire, Mollohan,” Westin growled as he attempted to move in front of Miss Dulcie, needing to protect her from that vitriol. But Miss Dulcie pushed him back, patting his arm lightly.
“I know what your kind think of me, Mr. Mollohan. But rumor and gossip doesn’t hold up in a court of law. I will not allow you to harass my employees.”
“You have no idea who you’re screwing with here,” Mollohan hissed. “There is so much I could do to you with just a single phone call! You think you’re so above it all, but you’re not. You think you were his only whore? The man had a whole stable of women!” He shook his head, his eyes moving to Westin. “If you were truly as smart as you think you are, you’d stop associating yourself with these people and find something better for yourself. Something your mother might have been proud of.”
“Don’t talk about my mother!”
Mollohan’s eyes narrowed. “If it’s a war you want, then you’ve got it. Watch yourselves, both of you. I won’t allow the likes of you to ruin my reputation, to steal from me, or to corrupt my only child.” His eyes bore through Westin as he emphasized the word ‘only.’ “Stay the hell away from me, or I’ll rain hell down on you!”
“Why don’t you let me show you out, Mr. Mollohan?”
Clint, his hat in his hands, stood just inside the doorway, dryly observing the conversation. Mollohan barely glanced at him, more interested in Westin’s and Miss Dulcie’s reactions to his speech, but neither gave him the satisfaction of a reaction at all.