The Age of Hamilton

Chapter 7

He dismounts his horse and walks it to a nearby post. Tying the animal to the post, he glances up at the expansive brick law firm. He is surprised to find men, attorneys who seemed to have recognized and acknowledged him, ogling him in disbelief or curiosity. The closest to Alexander, a brunet, approaches him. 

"You are here to see Burr, are you not?" The man, lean and athletic, asks softly. 

"I am more surprised you found it within yourself to hire the man." Alexander found himself saying sharply. "He attempted to take my life." 

"Oh yes, we heard all about that. You are still alive, are you not?" The man posited. "After all, you did publish the duel as he so eloquently states." 

Me? 

Publishing the duel? 

Not I. Alexander thinks with amusement. Again, Burr brings up Alexander's skill with the quill--it's becoming irritating. I married my best friend and now you are messing with the very foundation of what I stood for, Burr. Alexander's pride steps in the way. His next words are frosty, holding the bite of a well-trained lawyer. 

"I never published the duel. Even if I did, it has no bearing on my wife's life." 

"You gave her enough trauma as is. Remember Reynolds? You aren't even injured." 

Of course, I'm not injured. I stepped to the side. Why did I step to the side? 

Another lawyer chuckles. "Guys, perhaps Alexander has lost his edge from his time as a revolutionary soldier. Perhaps he's forgotten that he's fighting to stay alive." 

The taunt is not lost on Alexander. His back straightens as his fists grow taut. It is growing incredibly difficult to suppress the urge to take a wild crack at these men. The men who now shrouded him like a dense fog were a cruel, sadistic bunch. 

Have I been working for a corrupt law firm? 

These men had little to no tolerance for folks who respected younger, less prestigious attorneys. Alexander is amongst the brightest within the firm. Once more, he finds the unrelenting frenzy increase within the pit of his stomach. 

Softly, he growls out, "I haven't gone soft. Now, if you are done mocking what I've endured, where is Burr?" 

The rage, the uncontrollable ire swirls violently within him, its hold intoxicating. Swallowing hard, he watches as Burr steps forward from the control of the mob, his steps are off balance. Burr has to repress the urge to chortle. So, Alexander is quick to realize that the man is drunk. Alexander ignores the bothersome factoid, gripping Aaron's forearm. Dragging him into an unoccupied office. Papers were strewn about, the will to scrawl out client letters is stronger than dealing with this drunk man. The client letters drip ink onto the floor. 

"Aaron, you son of a--" 

"Son of a what?" Burr slurs, eyeing Alexander drunkenly. 

The man is testing Alexander's patience. The man standing before him is simply enraging him. That very emotion is resilient in keeping its grip upon Hamilton. It refuses to lessen its grip. 

"Your first attempt to kill me was futile...a pathetic and meager attempt. I did not misfire to be a victim of gun violence. I didn't want to kill you....What exactly did I say to offend you so much?" 

The condescension drips from Alexander's voice, and Burr seems to take even more offense to that fact. "Don't you dare, Hamilton. Don't you dare give me that half-baked nonsense. You know exactly what you said. What you did. You know exactly what anguish and pain you caused me. My seat in Congress has been given to some rich guy from Buffalo."