Page 39 of King

I need to hear from his own lips the truth about what happened to my father.

I send him a message to meet me in an hour, and then I spend the time re-reading my notes from my meetings with Fillmore.I read the intercepts once more and sigh, rubbing my eyes as I try to prepare myself for the confrontation.

What can he possibly say to justify what happened?

I need to see his responses to what I have to show him before I can decide how to handle this.What I’d like to do is wring his neck, but I don’t want to jeopardize my future by becoming exactly what I despise in this world.

But I need to know, one way or the other, how my uncle is going to try to justify what happened.

At the allotted time,there’s a knock at my door and Ryan opens it enough to show his face.

“Come in,” I say and point to the chair in front of my desk.

He comes in like the chastised boy that he is inside.He knows something’s up.

He takes a seat in the chair I positioned in front of me, and I lean back, trying to gather enough courage and strength to do this.I’d much rather be joking with him about old times and how we all miss my father, but instead, I have to confront him about his role in my father’s murder.

What a mess…

“Harrison, you look troubled.What’s the matter, son?”

I shake my head.“Don’t you ever call me son.”

Ryan adjusts himself in his chair, like he’s getting ready to bolt.

“What did you want to speak to me about?”Ryan asks, his arms on the chair’s armrests, his fists clenching the ends.

I get the sense he’d like to jump over the desk and strangle me.I can sense that he knows why I brought him here.

I take Fillmore’s intercepts and place them on the desk in front of him, facing him so he can read them.

I watch his face as he picks up the sheets and reads over the content.

Yep.Instant recognition in Ryan’s face, which blanches.

“Where did you get these?”he asks, his voice low, choked.

“That doesn’t matter.What matters is what they say about my father’s death.About his murder.”

Ryan shakes his head.“It does matter where you got them,” he insists.“They could be from someone trying to set me up, to take the fall for something I did not do.”

“They’re legit.”

Ryan shakes his head.“Where did you get these?”he insists.“I’m not going to agree to anything or say anything more until you tell me.How do you know these aren’t fabricated to make me or Tommy look guilty?”

He throws the sheet of intercepts down on my desk and looks away, his jaw clenched.He’s really angry.

“Ryan, I know this is real.I have to decide what to do about it.Explain to me why you went along with this.Tell me why, so I can at least understand.”

He takes in a deep breath, and I can practically hear him tremble as he exhales.“I made a deal with Andropov to keep the business alive.Neither Tommy nor I wanted to see O’Connor Industries end, and that’s what your father was going to do.He was going to throw away five generations of work and success, and neither of us wanted that.”

I’m barely holding it in.“So, you arranged my father’s death?”What my hands ache to do is go to him, circle his neck with my fingers, and choke the life out of him, but I don’t.

I wait for his explanation.

“I didn’t arrange it; no.I had nothing to do with that.It wasn’t my decision.It wasn’t my choice.I thought we could delay your father.Find a way to allow part of O’Connor Enterprises to break off, become legitimate, and leave the other part to Tommy and me.That’s the truth, Harrison.I had no idea, nor did I want your father dead.That was Tommy, and it was only a last resort.He couldn’t see reason.He was just unwilling to compromise…”

I sit with my fists clenched, but then I think of Natalia, and I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, so that my heart rate decreases just a bit.