Page 78 of The Dearly Departed

The hair on the back of my neck bristled at his choice of wording. Take it. Was that what he'd done to my mother? Taken it … taken her? Had he not given her a choice?

I remembered very little of my younger years. Bits and pieces of filthy streets, cold alleyways, and the ache of having a hollow, empty belly. If I tried hard enough, I could conjure vague fragments of memory, my mom doing lewd things for slimy men in exchange for food or a fix. Sex had been a business transaction as far as I was aware, unless it was with Gerald. I assumed she'd wanted it with him, yearned for it.

Now, I wasn't sure.

"But it's more than just pussy. I wouldn't be where I am if it wasn’t for my wife," Gerald went on, loading his mouth once again with pie. "You could benefit from that too. Find someone to settle down with. Get married. Have a family to carry on your legacy."

"No interest."

Gerald's fork was halfway to his half-eaten slice of pie when he glanced at me, seemingly perturbed by my indifference toward wedded bliss and the promise of regular sex. Then he dug back in and said, "Dean, how's marriage treating you?"

"Very good, sir."

"It's nice having someone to come home to, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Nice knowing someone would miss you if you never came home again, right?"

"Very nice, sir."

I rolled my eyes toward Dean. If he said sir one more time, I wasn't sure I could promise not to shove Gerald's fork up his nose.

"And women," Gerald continued, lifting his fork to his mouth, "they thrive on that shit. They need it. To be a wife, to be a mother, to spread their legs and give their man what he deserves for working hard all day. Isn't that right, Dean?"

I closed my eyes, bracing myself.

"That’s right, sir."

There was no stifling my irritable groan.

Gerald laughed. "You don't agree."

"I can't say that I do," I muttered.

"That's fine," he replied.

"I also wasn't looking for your approval."

He shrugged. "No, guess not. But there are particular things I would normally expect from you as my son. Under a normal circumstance, I would expect you to be married, to provide me with grandchildren, to ensure all of this went to someone long after I was gone. But luckily, I have someone else to handle that for me. And besides, our situation isn't exactly a normal circumstance, now is it?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Gerald grabbed his discarded towel from the chair beside him and wiped his mouth and hands. Then he sat back in his chair and folded his hands over his gut. He looked at me, a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye, and a discomfort settled in my stomach, a warning.

"I'd like to make a business proposition."

I was already shaking my head before he could finish speaking. "No."

"You don't know what I'm offering."

"I don't care."

"Oh, but I think you will," he said before addressing Dean and asking, "Do you have it?"

Dean offered a curt nod and stepped forward, producing a black file folder from behind his back. Funny, I hadn't noticed him standing with it this entire time, and that only made the unsettling in my gut worsen.

I was alone in this house with these people, and suddenly, I was a sitting duck, waiting for them to pull a fast one on me.