Page 15 of His Big Bad Stick

I have an agent too.

It’s a wild ride.

I keep myself grounded by sticking to the game of hockey.

And acting like a total asshole to anyone within a mile of my orbit.

With Maria gone, I put my shirt back on and leave the bed nice and messy.

The bedroom is nice. It’s got a great view of the outside. Some of the pool. Easy to get in and out of the house. Hence the reason Maria always uses that door.

It looks as though my old man got hitched again, huh?

He loves women, that’s for sure.

It’s a never ending revolving door of them.

One-night stands. Weekend getaways.

The occasional wife.

The last one was a real nut case. She would drink a bottle of wine and ask me how old I was. When she realized I was eighteen, she forgot all about my father.

Believe me, I never went near her. There is a level of depravity I won’t touch and she was it.

She screwed one of the landscapers in the bed of his pickup truck and one of the security cameras caught it.

My old man though, he just rolls with things in life.

He booted that wife out and went away to clear his mind.

That was six months ago.

Now he’s married again.

He lives and loves really fast. Which he always tells me contributed to his success.

I’m a little more reserved, at least in the marriage and love department.

As I walk to the bedroom door my phone vibrates.

I heard another girls voice… sorry to bring it up.

“Oh, fucking hell,” I growl.

Maria, stay out of my personal life. You’re good for one thing. That’s it.

Maybe I shouldn’t send that to her, but oh well.

The text is sent. I can’t take it back.

You just broke my fucking heart. Maybe we should never see each other again. Let this secret die right here.

I roll my eyes and don’t even bother responding.

I leave the bedroom and start walking down the hallway.

The next bedroom door is slightly ajar and I see movement.

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