Page 45 of Bae

Speaking of buzzards, thoughts of Rimmel’s dad filled my mind. Thoughts of the two million-dollar payout a story with even the slightest ounce of truth would provide.

“I gotta make a call,” I told B and left him and the rest of the family to step out by the fire pit.

I was skeptical if he would even answer. In fact, if he did or not would probably be more telling than anything he might actually say.

“Hello?” He picked up on the fourth ring.

“Brock, this is Romeo,” I said, skipping the pleasantries. This guy hurt Rim so much. He failed to protect her when she needed it most and got me shot. I didn’t feel like asking him how his day was going.

“Romeo, is my daughter okay?” Worry laced his tone, and I took that as a good sign. Or a lie.

“She’s fine. There’s nothing wrong.” I assured him.

“Well, I’m surprised you called.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen the headlines circulating about Rimmel and me.” I began.

“Well, yes. They’re hard to miss.” He agreed.

Gee, don’t sound too worried about your only daughter.Douchebag.

“Look, I want to know if the press has contacted you. If you’ve spoken to them at all.”

There was a poignant silence on the other end of the line. “You think I’m selling gossip about my daughter to the media?”

He seemed surprised.

I didn’t take too kindly to people thinking I was stupid.

“We both know you probably aren’t above it,” I deadpanned.

He made a sound.

“I didn’t call to insult you. I called because I’m protecting my wife.”

“Well. There are worse things.” He allowed, still an unhappy note in his voice. “They haven’t contacted me. And no, I haven’t sought them out.”

“Keep it that way,” I said. “Don’t betray your daughter because a skeezy magazine offers you a pile of cash.”

“I would never.” He was indignant.

“Are you still clean?” I cut in. “Still not gambling?”

He sighed. “I’m still sober. Still going to my meetings and therapy. I haven’t gambled since everything happened.”

“That’s good to hear. Rimmel will be proud.”

“How is she?” Brock asked. “Is she pregnant again?”

My back teeth slammed together. Didn’t fuckers realize how intrusive that question really was? Why did people think they had a right to ask that, a right to know?

“No. She’s not,” I said, terse.

“Oh, that’s a shame. I’m looking forward to holding my grandchild.”

So many things. I wanted to say so many asshole things. “Yeah, well, we aren’t ready yet. And if you love your daughter and want to hold any future grandchildren at all, you’ll make sure you stay clear of the press. Not one word.”

I felt his anger through the phone over the fact that I was dictating and basically threatening to keep him from my wife and child, and I knew he was likely going to say something that would piss me off.

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