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This is like the icing on top of the cake of shit my life has become.
He'd better watch what he says, or I'm going to prison today.
The bastard grins, blessedly unaware of how much I want to make him spit his balls, and I guess he is too dimwitted to read the scowl on my face properly.
“Derek, how are you?”
We are barelynodding-when-passing-byacquaintances. I don’t remember ever having been on a first-name basis with this asshat.
“What do you want, Withmore?” I hiss.
I barely register the confusion on my dad's face from the corner of my eye, but I don't have time to address it since, for some reason, God has decided to test me today by putting this dickhead in my way.
He clutches my shoulder, and I go rigid, immediately shaking him off.
Unfazed, he leans down at the same time squaring his shoulders, trying to make himself look bigger.
It's a lost cause, of course. I'm easily twice his size, even sitting down.
“I just realized we have something in common,” he says with a half-grin, his voice lowered in some sort of smug, conspiratorial tone.
I inhale deeply. “Excuse me?” I ask through gritted teeth, my heart starting to race.
"Well, a couple of my friends, you know 'em, have shared quite the juicy tidbit with me."
He smirks and slowly points at a table with his head. Denver and Lowson are sitting at it and looking our way. They want to affect amused expressions, but I can see Lowson is faking it. He is unsure and looks like he'd rather be anywhere else right now, including at the dentist having a root canal.
I glower at the hopeless sap in front of me, trying to keep my voice low. “What the fuck do you mean?”
Again the bastard grins at me, shrugging. “It appears we have the same taste in women, pal.”
Fucking hell!
No fucking way!
He isnotfucking going there!
I clench my fists and force myself to keep my arms at my sides.
“Stop right there,” I spit, my chest rising and falling heavily.
He laughs. "Oh, don't be like that, Derek! Us, men, we've got to stick together, right? And you know, you actually have me to thank for having the chance to enjoy her…company."
I see red, but at this point, I want him to dig his hole a little deeper. There's no going back. "What are you talking about? Thank you for what, Withmore?"
He leans closer still, and I fight the urge to physically recoil or shove him against the nearest wall. "Well, I'm the one, you know... the one who broke her in. I turned Carina into the perfect little compliant girlfriend that she is. I have to tell you, though, it was not easy: she was a spitfire back then and had far too many expectations. She just wouldn’t understand what her place was supposed to be. Anyway, I have to commend you for your success in bedding her, Derek. I know for a fact you’re the first man to have managed to get under her skirt in all of these years. Nothing wrong with all the chaps that tried before, of course. It’s just that it was not possible for her to forget me. You’re the first one who could get to her, but I shouldn’t be surprised. We are very similar, you and I. Carina walked away from the intensity, you know. I was just too much of a man for her. She pretended she didn't like it, the little Ice Queen, but we both know it's not true, right? I mean, women like her enjoy a man with an iron grip on things on a baser level, someone that can truly show them their lot in life. The problem is that they can't accept it and they run for cover. I’m not a gossip, you know, so I wouldn’t dream of prying, but my wife told me she’s in England again, which proves my point. But, well, what can you do? The sea's full of fish and all of that, right? Still, it's a happy coincidence, wouldn’t you say? And it gave me the perfect occasion to speak with you, Derek. I've been meaning to approach you for a couple of months already. See if I can entice you into a very lucrative investment, and I do mean lucrative, my friend. We'll end up with even deeper pockets and—"
The shock I've been feeling at his words bursts like a bubble, and the paralyzing rage that has been keeping my mouth shut for the last couple of minutes ebbs away a little. I stand up, sending the chair screeching back and toppling over, and I rise to my full height, towering over this motherfucker.
“Not another word,” I say, my voice deceptively calm and controlled.
My father stands up as well. "Derek, what's going on?"
I see Withmore's grin falter, but it's still in place when he starts to talk again. "What? Still touchy about it? I was as well for a while after the whole shit storm. It helped a lot that, in the end, it all landed on her. We are even more alike than I thought."
I bend a little until my face is only a couple of inches away from his. “We. Are.Nothing. Alike! You simpering, vile, spineless, disgusting piece of shit!” I bellow, making him flinch and take a step back, but I don’t let him go far.
My hands grab at the lapels of his jacket, and deaf to the entreaties of my dad, Maxwell, and even Mr. Fillion, I do exactly what I wanted to do and shove the bastard against a wood-paneled wall.
