Page 35 of Conquer

Thirteen

Sam

My mind was reeling.

I looked at the doorway where Gordon stood, the phone pressed against his ear.

“I was hoping you would answer.”

He was speaking into the phone but looking directly at me, and the fear and discomfort I had felt before intensified almost beyond my bearing.

He watched me, and as he watched me, I watched him.

It was Gordon, but gone was that general air of goofiness and inertia. And in its place was the calculation I hadn’t seen before. Something else I’d missed.

“She’s right here,” he said.

I had no question as to who she was, or who Gordon was talking to.

“You want proof? Fair enough,” he said.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and then pressed a button I presumed was the speaker.

“Sammy, say hello,” he said.

“Fuck you, Gordon.”

The words, the vehemence with which I said them, were a surprise, even to myself.

Gordon then pushed the button on the phone him again and put it to his ear.

“Is that satisfactory?” he said, clearly unbothered by my outburst.

I glared at him then looked at Ed, who seemed to have aged ten years in the last ten minutes.

He glanced at me but then looked away quickly, not able to look at me I supposed.

I wanted some emotion that I could latch onto—hate, anger, something. But all I felt was sadness. I might have been stupid, but I believed Ed when he said he hadn’t done this before, was that much sadder for him because of it.

He’d had a long career, a good life, and honest one. And he had sold it away, thought he had a good reason for doing so. But as I watched him, I saw him recalculating the cost of his bargain, realizing he’d gotten the short end of the trade. I saw as he accepted there was no way to undo this.

“Two hours.”

The sound of Gordon’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked at him as he hung up the phone.

Then, easy as he pleased, he sat in the chair across from me, the masculine brown leather familiar, almost comfortable.

“Sam, I’ve never heard you use that kind of language. But I guess the company you keep does change you,” he said.

“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” I said.

He laughed. “So gracious in your anger,” he replied.

“What’s your excuse?” I asked, giving voice to the thought that had just crossed my mind.

“You say that like I need one.”

“I guess you don’t,” I said, not bothering to hide my scorn, knowing that Gordon didn’t care about it at all.

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