Page 90 of Unorthodox
Addison fucking told her.
“Dante,” Mamie says, her voice thick with emotion.
I don’t want to think about Dante. “Is Addison being guarded?”
She flinches at my cold tone and I start to turn around, headed to my destination, when Mamie grabs my arm.
She fucking knows better.
I shrug out of her grip and take a step back, my eyes narrowed. “What the fuck—”
“Youshothim, Max?” she asks, stepping closer, her eyes shining as she stares up at me. “You actuallyshot himin thehead?”
“Would you have rather I cut him into pieces, Mamie?” I close the space between us. “Let the birds fucking finish him?” I roll my eyes at the look of horror on her face, as if she ever expected anything better from me. “Did you want him to suffer, hmm? Is that it?”
She shakes her head, her lips trembling, but she doesn’t back away from me. “Max,” she says, my name a whisper. “What in God’s name happened to you?”
I don’t speak. She knows I’m not actually going to answer that question.
“Did you tell her?” she presses, stepping even closer. So close I could reach out and snap her fucking neck without taking a step forward. “Did you tell her who was on that projector, Max?”
I grind my teeth together, trying to keep myself in check. I lost one of my longest-serving employees today and I don’t want to lose another. But Mamie is fucking pushing it.
“Or did you let her believe that you were always the worst sort of person?”
At that, I laugh, tapping my gun against my thigh and shaking my head. “Mamie, in case you didn’t notice, Iamalways theworstsort of person.”
The pity in her eyes makes my blood boil. I want to hit something. Hit her. Shoot her. Destroy this whole goddamn house.
But then she says, “I know about the other videos,” and my body is frozen, unable to lift a finger. I can’t even fucking breathe as I stare at her, waiting for her to say something that cannot be true. “I know about the flash drives.”
I take a step back, putting distance between us, my mind spinning. I shake my head, open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
She steps closer. “I know what your father did to you, Max.”
No.
“I know you didn’t deserve it.”
Maybe I did.
“I know you’re not weak.”
I am.
“I know, too, about…” Her voice breaks, and I know what’s coming. I want to run. I want to stop those words from coming out of her mouth. I want to destroy her. I want to… I want to…
“I know about that little boy, Max.” Her words are high-pitched, choked with emotion, and I hate her. As my throat tightens, my mind spinning, thinking of what she saw, of what she knows…I can’t fucking stand her.
I can’t.
I can’t.
“And I know…” she takes a deep breath, swallowing down her emotions, and I hate her for it. “I know you’re not your father.”
But I am.
I can’t think about anything. I can barely breathe. My chest hurts and my throat is strangled, and there’s screaming in my head.
