Page 149 of Trust Me
This morning I’m killing two birds. Wallace Jr. will be here in an hour, but first, I need to take care of another problem. I crack my knuckles as I recall Dean fucking Walsh calling my wife’s phone.
“First one’s here,” Uncle Brutus says after getting a notification on his phone.
“Why don’t you show him in?”
He grunts, exiting through the steel doors.
The wait isn’t long before my uncle returns with two other men. One of them is another member of our security team. Sandwiched between the two large men is a shell shocked Jacob Hartcliff. Reporter forThe Williamsport Daily.
Hartcliff is only about five-nine to five-ten. Considering Uncle Brutus towers over me by six inches at six-nine, he makes Hartcliff look like an adolescent.
“What’s this about?” Hartcliff asks, but then jumps when the steel doors slam shut behind him.
“Our security will wait outside,” I told him when he looks over his shoulder. “They can be imposing sons of bitches. And I’d like to keep this meeting as friendly as possible.”
His eyes widen in fear.
I hold out my hand to the corner of the room. “You’ve met my father, haven’t you?”
Hartcliff doesn’t say anything. Neither does my father. He stands there with a scowl on his face, glaring at the reporter.
“Maybe not,” I say into the silence. “He doesn’t like reporters too much. I get that from him.” I chuckle. “Let’s make this quick since I’m short on time. You’re behind the last article inThe Williamsport Dailythat came eerily close to maligning my family, correct?”
I lean in to Hartcliff, awaiting his answer.
“W-Whitney Donaldson wrote that article.”
My father scoffs.
“My father doesn’t like it when cowards hide behind someone else to cover their bullshit, especially when it’s a woman. Another quality I get from him.” My top lip curls as I glare at him. “Her name’s listed as the writer, but you were the one who fed the information and all but wrote the piece for her.”
“I—” He shifts attention between my father and me.
“She’s already told us everything. You gave her the piece under the guise of promoting her from intern to associate reporter. Like you had authority to do that. Also, you’re behind those blog posts and other articles Jayceon Carlson had published months ago, correct?”
His eyes balloon.“I’m a reporter. It’s not illegal to report the news. If something comes across my desk, I have a responsibility to the public.”
“I get it.” I pat his shoulder. “You’re like a civil servant. Doing your duty. You absolutely shouldn’t be harmed for doing your job.” I pause and tighten my hold on his shoulder. “But you weren’t doing your job, were you? No,” I answer for him, tightening my grip.
Hartcliff’s face turns beet red.
“You were taking your own personal bullshit out on my family through those lies you had printed. All because back when my sister was an intern, she refused to do your bidding, right?”
Kennedy had interned briefly forThe Williamsport Daily.Turns out, this fucker has a reputation among the female interns.
“Wh-What, no?”
“Are you calling my daughter a fucking liar?” my father roars, getting in Hartcliff’s face.
“You really don’t want to do that,” I tell him. “Makes him angry. And me?” I pat my chest with my free hand and squeeze the side of his neck so tightly that he crumbles to one knee. “I hate it when anyone fucks with my twin. It’s too bad Kennedy hadn’t mentioned this years ago when it happened. Maybe some of this drama could’ve been avoided.”
My father grunts. “Get the fuck up.”
Hartcliff rises to his feet.
“Again, I need to speed this up,” I say. “You’re here not only because of what you did to Kennedy. This is because I also know a few weeks ago you received some information that was on a thumb drive, correct?”
A red-faced Hartcliff doesn’t say anything as he looks between two pissed off Townsend men with watery, frightful eyes.