Page 93 of A Vicious Rumor

Paper was always irritatingly vague, but this time, he was really pissing me off. "No way! You don't just get to say that after what happened. I need to know everything, and I need to know that she's safe!"

Paper sighed. "You've never met my father, yes?"

I gave him an odd look. "I thought your father was dead."

Paper smiled slightly. "In a way. He likes to remain a bit of a ghost."

"What are you saying?" I asked him.

"I'm saying that my father heads the larger operation that you found yourself a mere pawn in this summer. Me being his son, I have a bit of influence. They won't be bothering you again, but do try and stay away from that industry. Speaking from experience on that one."

"Are you trying to tell me that your father is a drug kingpin?"

Paper shook his head. "I'm not telling you anything about my father, and I would request that you honor our friendship in this way."

I nodded my head slowly, understanding what he was getting at. "Thank you," I said.

We sat in silence for a moment. He looked like he was about to leave, but I stopped him. "My dad's business. You said it wasn't you that gave it the cash influx?"

"Accurate, but also a bit misleading. I did invest the funds you'd earned, and your father did find himself a new business partner. When I was trying to be more," he paused, "discreet about my family connections, I let you jump to whatever conclusion you needed to. However, yes, your father's new investor is controlled by me."

"I'm not sure how I feel about that, to be honest," I admitted. "My grandfather's business is extremely important to me. To know that you control it now," I trailed off.

"I expect you'll be able to buy out my interest in the near future given the way your funds have been invested."

I looked up at him in shock. "Why would you do that?"

"No offense, but of all the things I have going on in the background, a local real estate company is not central to my business strategy."

"You're a solid friend, you know that?" I forced myself to admit.

Paper chuckled. "Let's not jump to any more conclusions, shall we?"

"I need to see her," I said to him, but Paper shook his head.

"That's not my decision, it's hers, and she's made her wishes clear." He made his way to the door and opened it slightly. "Stay as long as you need, but know that your father has been notified, if not given all the details. I believe he thinks you were injured at a game." He was about to leave, but he turned back one last time. "Security's been posted at her door, so don't try anything."

The door clicked shut, and I ran my hands over my face, which I really shouldn't have done, because shit, it hurt.

An entire week had gone by, and Lily had avoided me at every turn. She'd even asked the science teacher to switch lab partners so she didn't have to sit next to me. I tried grabbing her after English class, but she'd slipped out as soon as the bell rang. It was as if she were making it her goal not to talk to me.

I even stooped as low as asking people she knew to ask her to hang back here or there or to meet me in specific spots at the school, but she would never show. It was excruciatingly painful.

And I knew I deserved every second of it.

Because, it was exactly the sort of pain I'd put on her at the end of the summer.

Scratch that, what I'd done to her at the end of the summer was even worse. Whatever my motivations were, she didn't understand them, and I'd hurt her in a way that I didn't fully understand until now.

I all but slammed the door walking into my house Friday after school. My father poked his head out of his office to see what the problem was. He'd been significantly less of a dick since the business was back in the black. I hadn't told him about where the cash really came from. I thought it best to leave the fact that his new investor had mob connections a secret for now. That was the sort of thing that, if it got out, could really ruin us. Plus, if what Paper promised was true, it would only be for a short time.

"You alright, son?" he asked, walking out to the kitchen.

I grabbed a box of cereal and milk from the fridge and stood in front of the cabinet. I clenched my fists in anger and debated whether or not to tell him what was going on. My father didn't deserve my trust, that was for damn sure. Yet, at the same time, I had no one else to talk to about this, and I really wanted to talk to someone about this.

"It's a girl," I finally said, not turning around.

My father nodded his head and sat down at the kitchen table. I stayed where I was, keeping distance between us.

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