Page 34 of Bastard

“Don’t give them ideas. They’re already calling for the results of her DNA test to be made public.”

Georgia scoffed. “They’ve lost their grip on reality. Like we owe them anything.” She handed Sam a coffee before pouring tea for herself. “My husband went to great lengths to make Roark public and important. That makes some people feel like the family owes them something. But the reality is that I didn’t do that. Samantha certainly didn’t. And we’re doing our best—hopefully starting today—to make Roark accountable.”

“Until then, I don’t think the most intense fans are going to change their minds.” I kissed Sam’s forehead. “I’ll leave you ladies to it. I have a meeting of my own.”

Sam already had her tablet out and was scrolling, lost in her work. It was Georgia who shot me a curious look. “See you later, Mr. Malone.”

Outside I gave Home Run a nod. “I’ll be about an hour.”

“When do we worry?”

It was a fair question. “If I don’t signal in two hours, send out the hit squad.” I didn’t really mean it. I didn’t believe either Feyereisen was stupid enough to do anything to me in the light of day.

They were the kind that worked in the shadows. Just like all the devils.

The elevator door slid open on the executive floor of the Roark building. Two large men in suits, clearly armed, stood waiting for me. It was a sign of respect, really. Showing me they saw me as a threat. They could have played it the other way—no security at all. Pretending I was nothing to them.

I was fine with either scenario, but it pleased the fuck out of me that it was this one.

“Mr. Malone?” The one on the right said. They both had their hands folded in front, showing me they weren’t holding any of their many weapons.

“That’s me.” I didn’t return the favor. Instead I kept my hands in my pockets, my suit jacket held back just enough to make my shoulder holster obvious.

His eyes dropped to the holster then snapped back to my eyes. “Right this way.”

Interesting they didn’t ask me for my weapons. I guess we were playing this all straight up. It was just me after all. It wasn’t like I came with an army.

They led me down a glass-lined hallway. At the end was an open, mostly white room. A woman sat at a large black desk. The moment she saw us she rushed to the office door. “Mr. Malone is here.”

“Send him in,” a voice deeper than I remembered replied.

The men followed me inside. The office surprised me. I expected something impressive with huge windows and a large desk meant to intimidate everyone who entered. Instead…it was a mess. It was more like a very large college professors office—no offense to college professors—than a powerful executive hellbent on destroying everyone who got in his way. The flooring was carpet. Not wood with a rug. Actual wall-to-wall carpet. The windows were mostly covered with dark wood slat blinds and heavy velvet curtains. The bookshelves overflowed with books and pictures. A coat rack beside the door had a variety of sweaters and coats, plus a pile of shoes at the bottom.

Hiten sat behind a small wood desk covered with stacks of files and more books. He worked at a desktop computer, his hair a mess. “Yes, yes. Thank you.”

“Sir?”

He looked up, his heavy brows furrowing. “You think he’s going to shoot me?”

“He is armed.”

“Of course he is. But he’s not stupid enough to shoot me in my own office with you waiting outside. Who do you think he is? A superhero? Are you expecting him to shoot me then explode out my fifteenth-floor window with a grappling hook? Come on man. We’re here to talk. Let us talk.”

“We’ll be outside.” The door clicked shut behind them.

Hiten waved at the leather chair in front of his desk. “Please sit, Mr. Malone. You have security concerns?”

The chair was surprisingly uncomfortable considering how plush it looked. “Shots were fired as Samantha Stroman exited the Coors building yesterday.”

Hiten stared at me for several beats. “A single shot was fired.”

“Correct.” I wasn’t surprised he knew the details, but it did answer how closely they were monitoring anything related to Sam.

“And you’re accusing us?” He sat back and settled deeper into his chair, giving me his full attention.

“No.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

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