Secrets Behind The REPUTATION

CHAPTER TEN

'Do you know Alicia's new house?'

'Ms. Karly? Yes.'

'We would like to go there.'

'The question is, 'Why? '

'To find out if there are any marks left out there.'

'Okay.'

'Can you come?'

'Yes sure.'

'Like now?'

'What?!?'

Michael pulled the receiver away from his ears as Vincent thundered from the other end of the line. He spun around and gazed at Rachel with a head shake that unfolded the words, "This ain't gonna go well." Rachel could only thin her lips and jerk her head backward at that response.

Vincent, on the other hand, was grabbing a bottle from the fridge as he had this talk with Michael on the cell phone that was sandwiched between his shoulder and ear. In the dining room, Dylan was pigging out on the hot pizza he had just ordered and ditching the healthy green salad his mother had made before she left the home for a quick catch-up with her friends. Vincent's chunky "What?!?" was enough for Dylan to stop shoving the pizza piece into his mouth and look over his shoulder to where his father was standing. Slice of pizza was confined between his lips.

'You gotta be kiddin' me.' Vincent grumbled between his gritted teeth.

Dylan was keeping tabs on the way his father flung shut the door of the fridge and dashed toward the dining table.

'Are you okay, dad?' Dylan assured his father from across the table, still holding the pizza to his lips, as if his movements were frozen by his father's sudden change of tone.

Vincent gaped at Dylan and nodded. He slammed the bottle on the table, which was loud enough that Michael could hear it from the other side.

'It's Mike.' Vincent said this as he held the phone back in his hand, slid back the chair, and sat on it in silent fury. Dylan briefly regarded him with skepticism for a few seconds, but then he shrugged it off and carried on chewing.

'Mike, it's almost past ten. It took five hours to ride.' Vincent spat out.

Dylan helplessly glanced up at the word "five hours to ride," but his mouth remained sealed with a flood of questions in his head.

Is he planning to head somewhere?

Why is he so agitated?

Did anything happen to his work?

Is Mr. Adam in trouble?

Even though Dylan so desperately craved to ask these things, he zipped it up.

'How come we can't go in the morning? I mean, I don't see any rush here. Are you sane?' Vincent sneered as he took off the cap of the bottle. 'Don't you dare tell me that little demon came up with it.'

'Little demon?' Without realizing it, Dylan accidentally let the words slip, grabbing his father's focus back on him.

Vincent could only sigh and shake his head, and he waited for the response from his friend on the other end.

'Vin...' Michael sighed as he sat in a chair near the table, the red twisted wire hanging diagonally from his shoulder to his chest while he held the handset in the other ear,'I know this is a lot to ask, especially...' Michael glanced at the grandfather clock to see it was half past ten. '...at this time.'