Just saying that out loud makes me feel like I’ve just stepped into some sort of thriller movie or book but whatever, I’ve always known the world is a cruel dark place, whether I expected to witness it myself however is a different matter.
“How do I know you won’t just make me trust you and then pull the rug out from under me?”
Alexander saunters to his drawers, pulling the top one open and sliding out a pair of sweats. Huh. I’d pegged him as a guy who only donned designer and perfectly tailored suits.
Before he utters a single word he drops the towel concealing himself. I avert my eyes before my brain short circuits whilst he tugs on his sweats.
“You’ll be wise to follow your instincts little bird, I’m not to be trusted but right now, we both win.”
“How so?”
“You get to live…” He shrugs as if that’s no big deal.
“Well gee, thanks, I hadn’t realized my life was so easy to throw around.”
“In this world, little bird, your life is nothing.”
I swallow.
“As I was saying,” his voice is bordering on impatient now, “You get to live, and I get the pleasure of seeing the pain it causes your father knowing you’re on my side in this war. That pain will follow him until I put the bullet with his name on between his eyes and bury him in the ground.”
“You told me Lawson wasn’t my dad, say I believed you,” I wasn’t sure what I believed truthfully, “then who is it?”
The rims of his nostrils flare as he stares at me, “Your father is Marcus Valentine.”