Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 180438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 902(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 601(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 902(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 601(@300wpm)
This accusation caused another argument that sounded more like playful banter than the kind of heavy, intense standoff you’d expect with men like these. Even Zak and Tyler seemed more relaxed than in the weeks they’d been with me, and I realized they fed off of each other’s energy in a very positive way. For the first time in my life, I felt very alone, like an outsider looking in.
“You guys don’t care about money or fame, then.” It was a statement of observation that hit me just then. As someone who’d lived my life on those two things, thinking that they were what I needed to be someone in this world, that seemed odd and not too realistic.
“No, we don’t. You could say that’s easy for me to say because I have money. We all do. But the truth is, I have money, yes, but I don’t know where the fuck it goes because my wife and kids rob me every sixty seconds of every damn day. I don’t need money to be who I am, and neither do you. Money is just one of life’s many trappings, but it ain’t the end all and be all, now, is it? You’ve got millions, and I have yet to see a sorrier sight than your ass. That should answer your own question for you. Dafuq they teaching you kids these days anyway? Not the one of you has any damn substance.”
“So, that does answer my question, I guess. You do teach your daughter this stuff. And that’s exactly why she is the way she is.”
“Don’t put that shit on me. Mengele is a whole other breed of something. She got it from her mother.” There was a round of snorts from the others who ignored Lyon’s glares. I took that to mean that his daughter was just like him, something I kinda picked up on already.
“You keep talking about my kid, so I’ll use her as an example. My kid is no different from you. She was born with a gift as well. Hers just manifested itself in a different way, and so are all my kids and theirs, the nieces as you call them. All of them were born with something. That’s what I mean that we’re all born the same, each of us imbued with some kind of gift that we either let grow or smother. Now don’t get me wrong, there’s no one greater than me, but I have met some grade-A assholes who are way beneath me, like these beasts we’re hunting down, animals in human form. They don’t count because I don’t see them as human any damn way.”
“I don’t think I’m anything like your daughter. You can’t compare her genius with my art. It’s on a whole other level, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not. If we were all good at the same thing, won’t shit get done. Stop looking at other people and focus on yourself. Build yourself up and be the best damn you that you can be. I’m going to take a nap. Where the fuck is this house anyway? Feels like we’ve been in this car for damn near ever.”
“We were trying to outmaneuver the paparazzi Lyon, so it’s taking a bit longer.” Zak, who was the one driving, answered him, and that seemed to settle him down. I looked at him out of the side of my eye as I went back to my thinking. If I saw this guy on the street, I wouldn’t even think of approaching him.
He looks like he eats nails for every meal, but he’s the most open, honest, and smart person I think I’ve ever met. He’s opinionated, yes, but in a good way. And with him, I get the feeling that I can take his word for whatever it is that he’s saying. It’s like a shock to the system to be surrounded by people like them after the plasticity of Hollywood and the life I had become a part of.
There was a weird song coming from his phone, something ominous and dark, and it took me a second to realize it was a ringtone.
“Shit, what the hell does she want now? Yeah, Mengele, what is it?” The call lasted less than a minute. He hung up the phone and swore.
“What is it? Did something happen?” Mancini, the silent one, asked from somewhere behind me with a whole lot of excitement in his voice.
“Turn on that social media fuckery, Mancini, and see what your niece is up to. By the way, she just made your ex-father-in-law homeless.” He looked at me when he said that.
“What? How? I thought they gave him an extension?”
“They did. She used my fucking money to buy it from the bank.”
My head started spinning. “You let your daughter have access to millions of dollars?”