Page 95 of Samson

“Maybe it’s the lack of nutrition that’s making you dramatic, but no. I had a score to settle with you. The betrayal. The murder of your daughter.”

Samson jumped from the chair to lunge for Demir, but he was hit from behind before he could get his hands around his throat, and he fell to the floor, stunned.

It was several minutes before he could push himself up.

“Leave him,” Demir said when the guards moved to help him up. “He can do it himself, or he can remain on the floor at my feet. His choice.”

The other guard returned, handing a towel to Demir to wipe his face as Samson crawled back to the chair. He pulled himself into it with his head still spinning.

“I imagine you know the story of how your family came to be in America,” Demir said after he’d cleaned up his face.

“I do.”

“Tell it to me.”

“No, thanks.”

Demir nodded to a guard, and Samson got a thump on the back of his head. It sent a shock of pain through to his face.

“I can do this all day,” Demir said. “Tell me.”

Samson put a hand to the back of his head and felt blood. “I don’t understand why you’re so interested in my ancestry.”

“It may help you better understand my position.”

“Okay. My dad’s great-grandfather, Ashot, came over to escape the persecution.”

“Yes.”

“If you already know, then why are you asking?”

“Before he could leave the country, do you know who he went to for help?”

“Help? He had no help. He was captured but escaped before being forced to march to his death. He found his pregnant wife, and they escaped on a boat to America.”

“How did he escape his captivity?”

“Apparently there was an explosion nearby, and it caused enough of a distraction for him to slip away.”

“Wrong!” Demir backhanded him, almost knocking him to the ground.

“Do you know something I don’t?” Samson said, pressing his hand against his face.

“A man named Osman Demir helped him escape and promised Ashot that he would keep him safe. He said he’d make sure his family wasn’t touched. Instead of trusting my great-great-grandfather, Ashot handed Osman over to his own people for nothing more than spite.”

“You sure that’s the truth?”

“When all that comes out of your mouth is lies? Yes.”

“My dad told me Osman Demir was the one who captured Ashot. When he escaped, Osman must have been held responsible.”

“More lies.”

“Why would Osman want to help Ashot?”

“You think he was wrong to take pity?”

“I find it highly suspect. But let’s say for a minute that you’re right and Osman was trying to help a man he saw as his enemy. Why would you now dishonor his memory by continuing what he obviously saw to be wrong?”

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