Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“SHOOT HIM!”
“I don’t wanna, Daddy! PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME!”
“SHOOT HIM!”
“I don’t wanna, Daddy! PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME!”
This repeated, over and over and over… The video showed three males. One on the ground, two standing. What a difference a floorboard makes.
Roman turned on his microphone and turned down the sound of his video, but not completely off.
“Grandpa, fine day, ain’t it?”
Grandpa swung his body sharply, looking in all directions. Roman’s voice was bouncing throughout the forest. The old man stepped towards the tree he was in, then stepped backwards. Jasper pressed his back against Grandpa, both of them gripping their guns.
“He’s crazy,” he heard Grandpa say. “Roman doesn’t look like how he acts. Keep that gun UP!”
Grandpa darted around like some marble in a game. One eye appeared larger than the other, as if he were stroking out. Jasper pointed his gun up at the tree Roman was sheltering in, but then pointed it at another, and another. Having had his first bit of fun, Roman decided to lend them a helping hand.
“I’m over here in the tree… forty-five degrees to your right.”
Both men scanned the area like twin hawks, until their eyes landed on the correct tree.
“Tell Jasper to relax, or I’ll blow his head off, blast the tires out of your car so you can’t get the fuck out of here, then shoot your driver to death in five seconds flat. Two against one don’t mean shit when you were born ready like me. I’ve got nothin’ to lose. Besides, if either of you tries to shoot me and misses, well, I think you know the rest of that story.”
Grandpa kept his eye on him but moved his arm to the side and forced Jasper to lower the gun.
“Roman, let’s talk. Where’d you get that tape?”
“That’s not important.”
“It’s important to me. Look, I don’t know what you call yourself doing, bein’ in a tree like a damn chimpanzee, but I’ll give you your journal back, if that’s what this is about.”
“Grandpa, I’ve got someone else now that I can pour my pleasure and pain into. I don’t give a shit about that journal. I don’t give a shit about you. I don’t give a shit about Jasper, and anyone else who willingly does business with you.”
“Fine. You don’t care. Then why’d you kill these men?” Grandpa stomped, as if he and his delicate sensibilities were appalled at the sight.
“To get your ass out here. This is where I became the most afraid, and the bravest in my life, all on the same day.” Grandpa began to pace slowly back and forth like some panther. “This is not too far from the area where you destroyed my father. I wanted you back here on the land that is soiled with your evil actions. Where the blood trickled, and the emotional and mental innocence of a boy was lost. I want out of that contract.”
“It’s too late to cry over spilled milk now.” Grandpa laughed uneasily. “We have an agreement. You signed on the dotted line.” He waved his gun about.
“Did you bring the contract like my text message told you to?”
“Yeah.”
“I suggest you take another look at that contract then, Grandpa.”
Grandpa stopped his pacing and reached into his pocket. He removed the contract and appeared to be looking it over. When he got to the last page, he paled, white as a ghost. His eyes narrowed, and Roman smiled with an air of anticipatory pleasure.
“How? HOW?!”
“Now, if my memory serves me correctly, in order for a contract such as that to be binding, it needs the signature.”
“I saw you sign this!” Grandpa waved the contract about as if it was on fire or suddenly covered in shit. As if it disgusted him from the first page to the last. “I saw it with my own eyes!”
“Grandpa, one thing about your son Reeves is that his sneaky ways flow through my blood like a red river on fire. I inherited it and then some. Now, I’m personally for the shits, but for this special occasion, my signature wasn’t built to last. See, that was a magician’s pen I used. Invisible ink. Shows up, then fades away within hours. You can get one from almost any magic shop. Ain’t that somethin’?” Roman chuckled.
Grandpa sneered, then burst out in a maniacal laugh. He waved his gun about and contorted his body in such a way that it seemed he was debating on running up that tree himself.
“Well, goody gumdrops for you, Roman. Are ya proud of yourself? You killed a few good men… you pulled a childish magic trick with the contract… But I still have your journal, you snakish motherfucker, and there’s proof that you moved a large sum of money from one of your clients to your own bank account, but no proof that it was moved into mine. You’re still on the hook, Roman!” He cackled. “The motherfucking contract still stands!” he screamed, angry as a hungry, venomous serpent. “Now all you’ve done is gone and made me mad.”