Page 31 of We're All Liars
“Do you blame her? You fucked her to help my dad get their prenup voided.”
His eyes widen and give away that he thought I was in dark about that one detail. Perhaps I know more than he would like me to. “I had no choice, Morgan. Your father backed me into a corner.”
“A corner that would pay you well, had you not made a deal with Satan.”
Thatcher curses under his breath, his hands pressing harder against the table. “I had to.”
“How about you just spit it out. Tell me what he’s planning and cut the chatter.” I lean back and wait.
“The money was supposed to be for my campaign and some debts I owe. And for a future that didn’t involve dealing with you deceitful heathens all day. But now I need it to save my ass from being locked up the rest of my life.”
“Well, don’t fuck minors or their moms. That’s a start.”
He gives me a pointed glare, and it’s the first time I see hatred—fury—directed at me from the coward who checks out short skirts for jollies. “I know you were behind this, Morgan. But I need your help. And trust me, you need mine.”
“How can you help me? You can’t even help yourself.” I laugh, but I am still curious enough that I don’t leave this entertaining conversation.
“The deal I had with your dad is off, obviously, but even before all this”—he points his finger around the room without lifting his hands off the table—“he was going to swindle me. He figured our plan wasn’t a sure deal. So he devised a win-win plan where he’s the only beneficiary.”
The word sends a cold chill down my spine as I hug Cade’s hoodie tighter to my chest. Cade is the one who speaks. “Get to the fucking point.”
“Not until you promise you’ll help me get out of here.”
“I’m not going to help you get away with any of this.”
“I need money, Morgan. And you have plenty of it. I just need a decent lawyer to lessen the sentence and funds to help my family so they don’t lose everything. And so some bad people don’t come after them for my debts.” Thatcher words fade off as his face drops to look at the table. “They shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.”
“Yeah. Maybe you should’ve considered them beforehand.” Cade doesn’t take it easy on him, and I know that stems from his anger at his own dad.
“Fine,” I agree as Cade’s eyes snap to me. And I explain it to him. “If it means keeping Ryder safe, I’ll do it.” And maybe I feel less guilty giving the perv money since it’ll keep his wife and kids’ heads above water. Fuck. I really have to stop hanging around SuperCade because his goodwill is rubbing off on me.
Thatcher’s metal cuffs scratch against the table as his hands bounce and he takes another glance to the guard before he utters, “I need the money first.”
“No. I need to know this isn’t some bullshit I already know that you’re just trying toswindleme.”
“How can I trust you?” Thatcher mumbles.
“You can’t. But look at this way, if I’m really in danger, you won’t get the money for sure if I’m dead.” I take a beat before I add, “I will follow through if you truly are helping my brother.”
“Five million dollars. That was the agreement I had with your dad.”
“Three million is the one you’ll have with me.”
I hear Cade’s sharp intake of breath as he mutters, “Morgan.”
“Four million,” Thatcher counters.
I fucking hate bargaining. “Two million.”
“That’s lower,” Thatcher whines.
“And now it’s lower. One million. I don’t have time for this. Whatever you have on my dad, I can figure out on my own if I have to.”
“Fine. Okay,” he quickly agrees. “One million. Wired to my wife. Please, Morgan.”
“Tell me what I should know.” I wait for him to speak; it feels like waiting for an eternity.
Thatcher observes the guard as he whispers, “Your father is going to kill the three of you. He has it planned. When Saint Juliet loses the championship, he’ll make arrangements to drive y’all to supper. Only the three of you won’t make it.”