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“Faro, please don’t do this,” Desree appealed to her nephew, both hands clasped in a fist at her breasts. “This won’t solve a thing, and you’re so wrong if you think any of this will benefit you.”
“You’re right, Des.” Faro sneered down at the woman. “In light of Grae’s latest trick, I may not benefit at all from this, but it sure will make me feel a helluva lot better to bring that bastard down a few pegs.”
“Faro—”
“Stop it!” Faro ordered the unidentified voice of reason in the crowd. “It’s past time for everybody to cease protecting their golden boy.”
Faro waited until the collective gasp had silenced within the group. “Don’t be surprised. Especially when I’m very correct in my labeling. A bastard is exactly what he is!”
“Faro!”
“You’re no Clegg, Graedon! Humph, they even gave the garbage my grandfather’s name! Dad was a sex-whipped idiot who let my mother make a fool of him every time he turned around or every time she opened her legs, whichever was faster, and from what I’ve heard of dear old Mom—”
Leo charged for Faro, putting the younger man on his back before Faro could finish the rest of his accusations. There were screams and then several male family members succeeded in pulling Leo off while a few others helped Faro to his feet.
Faro shook off the help and pointed to Grae, who had yet to move from the spot he held in the hallway. “You’re no Clegg. I doubt if Ma knew what your last name should be. Dad was a stupid soft heart who took her back every time she strayed.”
“Lies!”
“Not lies,” Faro told Steve Clegg, the cousin who had called out. “I wouldn’t expect anyone my age or younger to know this. It was a secret kept by all the old folks with their whisperings and head shaking. Ma turned up pregnant and had to come clean to the husband she hadn’t slept with in four months. That about right, Leo?” Faro turned a phony inquisitive stare toward the man. “That was the gist of the conversation between you and my dad. The one I overheard that day when he brought me along while you two played pool.”
“You’re a snake!” Des cried.
“Ken Clegg was the snake, Aunty. The man never had a kind word for me until he was fightin’ with Mama, and then I was his ace. He’d spend time with me. Ball games, burger joints, taking me along when he handled business or met up with friends, like good ol’ Leo.” Faro grunted a laugh.
“Did your best bud tell you you’re a bastard, Grae?” He shrugged. “Obviously not, but don’t hold it against ol’ Leo. Chances are Desree told him not to. He’s as whipped as Dad was and probably even more of an idiot. At least Dad got the panties every now and then. Des still bein’ a tease, Leo?”
Grae lost whatever had been restraining him. A snarl distorted his face as he charged. He made it halfway to his brother before Asia cried out and brought attention to his actions. It took twice as many men to restrain Grae as it had Leo. The group was unsuccessful at getting Grae to come to a complete stop, but they managed to slow him down enough.
“Somebody get Faro out of here!”
Meanwhile, Tielle made a desperate push to reach Grae. The bodies filling the suddenly stifling space of the corridor made that impossible.
“Grae!”
Men were shoving Grae down the hall in the direction away from his brother. Tielle was scarcely heard among the mix of devastation and outrage claiming the other voices in the air.
* * *
“Can I do anything else?” Laura asked when she opened her office door to Tielle later that evening.
“Thanks, Laura. Just don’t let anybody find us in here for a while, okay?”
“On it.” Laura gathered her tablet and tote bag. “I fixed you guys up with tea and pastries. I wasn’t in the mood for more, but I could call down to have them send something over.” She gave a look toward the food cart in her office living area.
“It’ll do.” Tielle’s voice carried weariness as she tried massaging the kinks from her neck. “We’ll call if we need anything else.”
Laura replied with a sad smile and pulled the office door shut behind her. Tielle pressed her head to the cool wood, sighed and then turned to observe Desree. The woman had taken a seat in an armchair near the fireplace. Flames scorching the sides of the brick hearth provided the room’s only illumination. They cast exuberant shadows upon Desree’s face, emphasizing the unrest claiming her expression.
