I try to think rationally and calmly. Dexter probably knows more about me or this Cal guy than my parents. Of course, he and Cal were close; they’re both jerks, and jerks usually tend to get along.
“You helped him do this,” I say, clasping my hands together to keep them from wrapping around his neck. He smirks.
“Do what, exactly?” he feigns innocence.
“Steal, ruin, and take over my life. None of this rings a bell?” I say, not hiding my bitterness. He only smirks.
“I did you a big favor Christopher. Without my help, you’d be waking up in prison for something you didn’t even remember doing,” he retorts.
“What does that mean?” I say irately.
“Let’s just say before Cal came under my guidance, he didn’t make the greatest decisions,” he says pouring himself a glass of what looks like scotch.
“Are you saying I’m a criminal?” I ask him pointedly.
“I wouldn’t say that, and I think it’s in your best interest for you not to say that either,” he says casually before sipping the brown liquid in his glass. I put my head in my hands. What the hell did this Cal guy do? He’s done something, Dexter knows about it, and he’s holding it over my head.
“What did he do?”
“Relax, Christopher. He never hurt anyone. He just had a knack for taking the things your life didn’t provide him with sufficiently,” he says allusively.
“Besides, aren’t there more important things to talk about?”
“For instance, you, my comrade, have a daughter, a beautiful wife, a thriving career with my company—whenever you’d like to take it. Cal is quite good at his job.” The way he’s speaking about all this makes me want to throw up. As if it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“You didn’t do me any favors, so let’s get that straight. You helped him destroy my life. He took away my choices. I don’t owe you anything! You can take your job and shove it up—”
“I’d advise you to think before you go any further, Christopher,” he says, the amusement gone from his demeanor, and his tone cold. I am not here to listen to your verbal tantrums. Since I’m in a charitable mood, instead of ending this meeting, and leaving you just as ignorant of what is going on as before you stepped in this vehicle, I’m letting you know you’re making very poor utilization of the time I’m making available to you.” He glances at his watch. “Which you have about five minutes left of.”
“Why does he exist?” I say pointedly.
“That’s a better question for your psychiatrist,” he says, his smug grin back.
“What did he do for your company?” I say tightly.
“Confidentially agreement, “he retorts, and I realize he’s not here to help me. He thinks this is a game.
“Which he signed with a fake name,” I yell.
“I can assure you all documentation is legitimate,” he says with a smarmy grin on his face, cupping the now empty glass in his hands. It’s also conducive for you to know that the marriage certificate he signed is not fraudulent either,” he replies calmly. I let out several deep breaths, and look at the man who, over a decade ago, I considered my closest friend, a big brother. Now I can’t even call him a casual acquaintance.
“Why did you help him?” I ask.
“Because I have your best interest at heart,” he says simply.
I lean forward to make sure he gets what I’m about to say. “Cal may not know you, but I know you. You don’t do anything if it’s not in your own best interest,” I say in between gritted teeth. He sighs.
“You met Lauren today, didn’t you? She’s quite stunning, isn’t she?” he asks, and I feel my eyes start to squint.
“Don’t you think it would be easier just to settle back into Cal’s life? Beautiful wife, adorable daughter, great apartment in one of my buildings,” he laughs, fixing himself another drink.
“It’s not my life, Dex! What don’t you get about that?” He glances away from me momentarily. Then he stares back at me blankly.
“You can’t marry Jenna, Christopher,” he says abruptly, and my eyes almost bulge out of my head.
“I’m marrying Jenna,” I say pointedly, adding a disbelieving laugh. The fact that Jenna hasn’t answered my calls and isn’t even talking to me is a moot point, but he doesn’t know that.
“That’s not something Cal will take lightly,” he says with a amused grin on his face, amused. He’s amused by all of this.
“Do you think I care what he’ll take lightly? That I care about anything he wants?” I ask angrily. He nods his head. “Do you think I’m happy about how screwed up my life is right now?” I shout.
“You’re here,” he says calmly.
“Right. I’m here. He’s not. I don’t give a damn about what he thinks. He left me here to fix his mess,” I say in disbelief. How can he look at me with a straight face and tell me what this jerk-off won’t take lightly?
“What happens when that changes?” he says casually, and my stomach sinks. “You’re here, at the moment. Do you think Cal is going to react well if you leave the woman he loves, and his child, to marry another woman he can’t stand?” he laughs gruffly. That’s my fear, the reason why I haven’t showed up at Jenna’s house and begged her to forgive me. I really don’t know what this man is capable of, but I don’t need Dexter to know what my fear is.
“I’ll take care of Caylen, not because of what he wants but because it’s the right thing to do, because she’s my daughter,” I assert. “And how do you know he can’t stand Jenna?” I ask in shock. He lets out another deep sigh and pours himself another drink.
“You and I haven’t been as close as we used to. As we grew older our motivations seemed to lie on different ends of the spectrum, but…”
Yeah, he grew into a self-appreciating jerk, and I didn’t.
“…I do respect you, Chris. Your values, the morals you have, the ethical code that you live your life by,” he says, taking another sip of his drink.
“You used to have the same code,” I look him directly in the eye. He flinches, but recovers quickly, a self-satisfied grin resuming its regular place on his face.
“That is the reason why Cal has the upper hand and will always be a threat.”
I let out an angry breath, and fold my hands tightly. “I’m not afraid of him. He doesn’t scare me, or intimidate me. I can do just as much damage to him as he can do to me, and I’m going to do everything in my power to get rid of him completely. He’s the one on borrowed time, not me,” I say tightly. I see Dexter hit a button in the car.
“Daniel, you can return to Mr. Scott’s destination. Thank you,” he says.
“As long as you both think of yourselves as adversaries the harder things will be on everyone,” his tone is quiet and solemn, and for a second I believe that he actually cares about how this will affect everyone, not only himself.
“So that’s all. You’ve known this guy for what? A couple of years? I’m your nephew. Shouldn’t you be on my side?” I’m grasping at straws now. One thing I know is the Crestfields hold family ties in extremely high regard. My dad and Dexter’s dad hadn’t talked in years when my condition surfaced, but when my dad went to his stepfather, he spared no resource or expense.