Cory saw that Max was looking over at us, and he started to get up just as my brother came back to the table. I looked at my brother. I needed to get out of here…now.
“Hey, do you mind taking Diane back to the hotel?”
Marc frowned and looked at me. Clearly he knew something was up, but I couldn’t tell him anything. He nodded, though.
“Yeah, of course. Anything you need, Mason.”
I nodded and walked out. I didn’t look back for fear that if I did, and I made eye contact with her, shit would hit the fan. I couldn’t believe this shit. I mean, she told me about almost being raped. She told me all about Trip, even though it was days later. Why would she not tell me about being kidnaped? I sighed deeply. I really knew what the answer was. If I had known, I would have already found her father and put a bullet in his useless fucking skull. She knew I would have hunted his ass down and made him pay for everything he has ever allowed to happen to her. Hell, I wanted to do that right now.
As if clarity suddenly came over me, I grabbed my phone. I ignored the call coming in from Diane and looked for someone that would definitely help me solve this problem.
“I need a favor,” I spoke into my phone.
“Really?”
I knew this would intrigue him. I have never asked him a favor, ever.
“Well, ask, and it shall be.”
“I need you to find someone for me.”
Roland chuckled.
“Is that it?”
“No. I not only want you to find him, but I also want you to watch him…sit on him. I need twenty-four hour surveillance on his ass. I want to know where he sleeps, what he eats, when he takes a piss and fucking shits, and who he shits on. I want to know who his friends are and who his enemies are. Hell, I even what to know who he sticks his dick in and when. Every fucking thing you can think of and more, I want on this son of a bitch.”
He was quiet for a moment, and I let him think about what I’ve said.
As if he was questioning how serious I am, I said, “I need you to be silent on this, Roland. No one needs to know what you’re doing for me. Understand?”
“Roger that, Reap. I understand,” he replied with a little more seriousness in his voice. “Is this business or personal?”
“Oh, it’s very personal…and, Roland, I need this…like…yesterday.”
“No problem. Who is the mark, and where is he?”
I gave him his name. When I told him where he was, he whistled.
“You’re pissing in your own pond.”
“You’re damn straight I am. It’s my fucking pond.”
“Alright, Reap. Let me get started and get back to you.”
“Anything you need, Roland, you let me know. And money is no object, understand?”
“Copy that. I’ll get back to you when I find him.”
I hung up the phone, confident that Roland will find Maxine’s dad. Ever since we went to find what happened to Alex, I’ve been helping Roland and his team. I’ve invested their money well. When I feel the need to unleash frustration, I go on a few missions with him.
I’ve funded most of his highly desired equipment that they use to make their jobs easier. So I have no doubt that he will give me what I ask. My issue is going to be what I want to do to him once he’s found. I smiled, just thinking of all the things I planned on doing to make this son of a bitch pay.
When I got to my room, Diane was lying there in wait. She wore this next to nothing nightie that looked really good on her. The crazy thing about it is, I wasn’t in the mood.
Yeah, I know. Crazy, right? I walked past her, took my clothes off, and laid them on the chair. I went in the bathroom, took a leak, and brushed my teeth. Diane watched me get in the bed, and I turned off the light.
“That’s it?” I heard her say.
“Good night, Diane,” I replied.
I then gave her my back and went to sleep.
****
When I woke the next morning, it was late. I was alone in the bed, which was fine with me. I got up and threw on some shorts and a t-shirt and sneakers. My stomach was growling, and I was in desperate need of a cup of Scotch with a splash of coffee. Oh, who am I kidding? I just want the cup of Scotch.
I mumbled my good morning to everyone, and they all watched as I placed my glass down on the table. Everyone seemed to be used to me and my preference of a pick-me-upper, except Max.
She frowned and said, “Really? You’re drinking this early? What happened to coffee or juice or milk, even?”
“Oh, it’s in the same place your steak and eggs are.”
I frowned at her grapefruit she had in front of her.
“What’s wrong with my grapefruit?”
“What’s wrong with my glass?” I retorted.