RECYCLED MEMORY by Richardson SH & Richardson SH

Author:Richardson, SH & Richardson, SH
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SH RICHARDSON
Published: 2018-08-29T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SIX

Marcus

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED to the man sitting down in front of me? He had to be in his mid-fifty’s by now, but the motherfucker could pass for a hundred. Balding hair, back hunched over, saddle bags under his eyes, the guy looked like hammered shit, and that was a compliment. The regally dignified man who’d convinced me to give up on his daughter couldn’t coax a starving squirrel to eat a bag of nuts right about now. He stared at me from across the room, probably wondering how I’d managed to still be alive after all this time. Clearly, he didn’t know what to make of my sudden appearance or why I had two pistols pointed at this head. But we’d get to that. He’d made a lot of promises to me concerning his daughter, and as far as I was concerned, he’d broken every fucking one of them. A man is only as good as his word, Buck used to say. That meant Dr. Laine wasn’t worth shit in my book and no great loss if I decided to end his life.

“You can put the guns away, son. This is a hospital, not a shooting range.” He fidgeted.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” I held my nines steady. “The last time you and I were in the same room together, I was eighteen years old and you ordered me to leave your daughter alone. Do you remember that, Doc?” He blinked. Taken aback by my question.

“Yes, well, it was my understanding that you joined the Marines. I’d like to thank you for your service to our great nation, Marcus.” My hands shook with tension at his condescending response.

I wasn’t getting through.

Change of tactics.

“War did some strange shit to me, Doc, inside my head.” I tapped the side of my skull with one of the nines. “PTMFD, or whatever the fuck it’s called. Don’t really matter. I could bash your brains in with the butt of my guns until you bleed out on your freshly polished floors and get away with it. I don’t mind playing the crazy card if it means spending a year on the couch in some headshrinker’s office while you rot in a shallow grave. You feel me?”

That got his attention.

“You don’t scare—” he tried.

“Tsk. Tsk.” I shook my head. “I’m not sure if you’ve realized it yet, but you’re in a world of shit, Doc. Now, whether or not you make it out this office alive is completely up to you. Do I make myself clear, or do you need me to spell it out?”

“Crystal clear, Mr. Mecken. Tell me what it is you want, so you can leave my office.”

Smart.

“I wanna know,” I growled through clenched teeth, “why the fuck Maribel is working at a sleazy diner instead of right here in this hospital next to you like you promised.”

“You’ve seen my baby girl?” He perked up excitedly. “How is she? Did you speak with her? Is she well? Why would she be working at a diner of all places?” he asked.

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