Page 98 of Wild Justice

“What about our lease, our office equipment, our contracts with vendors?”

“I’ve been working on that while you were gone,” Martin said, levering up from the couch. “I actually had to do some real work, and I must say it only strengthened my decision never to do that again. I’m a trust fund baby, Ben, and I like it that way.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I’ve negotiated a reasonable buyout with the landlord, and they’re taking over our office furniture and equipment as part of the deal. I also negotiated with our vendors. Once we notify our customers, we should be completely shut down within thirty days.”

Thirty days? Then everything they’d worked for would just be gone. Poof. Like it had never happened. But it had.

“I’m not ready for this.”

He hadn’t realized that he’d spoken out loud until Martin gave him a sad smile.

“I know, and that’s why I had to come by tonight to tell you. I didn’t want you to have to pretend in the office in front of the staff. This gives you tonight to mull this over. I think when you do, you’ll come to the same conclusion that I did. Without Scott, we’d struggle to do anything. He was the lynchpin to all of this. His leaving would set us back years.”

It was hilarious that Martin thought that one night was going to make Ben okay with all of this.

“Ben, no one could have worked harder or been more dedicated than you were. This isn’t your failure. It’s just life. Scott has the right to go do and be something else. We can’t stop him, and we need to face the reality of our situation. Sooner rather than later when we’ve run through millions of dollars and months and months of time with nothing to show for it.”

But…it felt like a failure. Martin could say all he wanted, but it didn’t stop it from feeling like this was a gigantic failure.

I should have foreseen something like this. Scott was always squirrelly. I should have seen this coming and had talent recruited to take over someday. Pushed Scott to share his knowledge. Then this wouldn’t have happened. It’s my fault. I was the one running the business.

“Jesus, don’t ever take up poker,” Martin sighed. “I can see the wheels turning in your head. You’re finding a way to fucking blame yourself.”

“I should have?—”

“Fuck it,” Martin yelled, his face turning red. “Dammit, Ben. Stop making everything fucking about you. This isn’t about you. Scott was always a one-man show, and frankly, this day was inevitable. At some point, we were going to get big enough that we’d need to bring in more staff. Scott would have had to let other people in on what he’d invented and built. He was never going to do that. And now, shit, he wants to just give it away because he knows no one on this fucking planet understands it. He might not care about making money anymore, but he still cares about his goddamn ego. No matter what cult or group or shit he’s joined, Scott Harrington is a fucking egomaniac. He knows he’s fucked us, and he doesn’t care. Hear me, Ben. Scott doesn’t care about you, me, or any one of those employees. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He hasn’t changed. He’s the same fucking prick he always was, but now he’s a broke prick. People aren’t going to put up with his bullshit so willingly now.”

The truth hurt. Martin wasn’t pulling any punches tonight, and Ben felt every one of them like a blow to the body taking his breath away.

Ben thought about offering to talk to Scott, but Martin was right. The man was a prick and an asshole. He didn’t care about anyone but himself, and he wasn’t going to listen. Once Scott made up his mind, only he could change it at some undetermined time in the future.

“Take the day off tomorrow,” Martin suggested. “Have a long weekend. We can tell the staff on Monday that we’re shutting down.”

“No, I’ll be there in the morning.”

He didn’t want to draw this out. Better to pull off the band-aid quick. Less pain that way, right?

Martin left the apartment, softly closing the door behind him. Ben still hadn’t moved from his spot on the sofa, his emotions swirling around him to the point that he was almost physically ill. He thought about pouring another whiskey, but he didn’t think he could hold it down.

Glancing at the clock, he realized that he hadn’t even been home an hour yet.

One simple, single, fucking hour had changed his life completely.

He’d been happy, in a relationship, and a partner in a growing business. He didn’t have any of that now.

Less than sixty minutes later.

Does that make me a loser?

Now what? What was next?

Bennett Reilly didn’t have a clue, but he was sure that sitting in his expensive apartment feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to give him the answer. He’d give himself tonight to feel like shit, and tomorrow he’d come out ready to go to war.

He just didn’t have a clue who he was fighting. Maybe himself?

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