Page 26 of Twisted Contract

“Thank you, Mr. MacNamara.”

“Call me Ian.”

“Apparently I’m trouble, Ian. Don’t worry, though. I’ll play nice if you play nice.” She winks at him with a load of sass.

“Damn, Connor. She’s something else. I suppose I’ll play nice.”

“He’s a good little puppy, isn’t he?” Ian’s hand wraps around my father’s throat before he can get another word out.

“Old man, you’re on your last fucking thread. What makes you feel so fucking brave with me? They might let you live, but I don’t have any love toward you.”

“Ian, now isn’t the time.” He reluctantly releases our father.

“You’re lucky my men weren’t allowed in this house. I’ve allowed your behavior to go unchecked because you’re my son, but after this wedding, I will no longer consider you my son, Ian.”

“Funny—when have you ever considered me your son?” That’s true; they were always bumping heads since Ian was little. If my mother wasn’t getting involved to stop them, I swear my father would have killed Ian.

“You were a terror and maybe you needed a lesson in respect, but I was no different with you than I was with any of you boys. If anything, I made you the tough bastard you are so that you could be the best enforcer we have.” He whispers under his breath something that I’m about to kill him for.

“Please repeat that.”

“Your mother was more defective than I thought.”

“What the fuck did you just did say?”

“You better get the fuck out of here. I don’t give a fuck if you have a vendetta against Saunders.”

“No? Not even if I told you that he raped your mother and John’s not my son? He’s that bastard’s child. He’s the reason your mother is dead.” My wife and I look at each other in horror.

“That’s bullshit,” I say, wanting to deny my father’s claims because they’re too damn outrageous.

“No? Test John and your bride. They’re siblings.”

“You have to be kidding me. There’s no way my father would do that.”

“Are you kidding me? He’s a piece of shit.”

“Are we really playing that game here?” Ian looks over at our father and nods his head up and down.

“Are you trying to tell me that my father somehow managed to take your mother and violate her, and you guys not only did nothing about it, but do nothing about it all this time?”

She has a valid point. John is six now, and Saunders was still breathing. We look at my father, demanding answers.

“Well? What do you have to say to that?” Jack asks.

“You think I was going to share my embarrassment? She attended a charity function, and he had power over her. She was trapped and by the time I arrived, she was crying in a corner and there was nothing I could do.”

“Where the fuck were her guards at?” Jack presses.

“They were kept outside of the party area so when she was grabbed, they were unaware. Why do you think I hate that bastard so much?”

“And you did nothing about it all this time? Playing these petty wars with him.”

“What makes you think John is his and not yours?” I questioned.

“I had him tested, but I never looked at the results. When your mother died, I just couldn’t, and I destroyed them knowing that I’d raise him as my own son regardless because I owed it to her.” I don’t fucking believe him because the man’s ego is bigger than his fat fucking head.

“If you were worried that he wasn’t your son, why didn’t you just have Mom get rid of the baby?” I ask. “She was too old to have another child, and it was a health risk as it was.”

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