Page 7 of Sweet Poison
I will myself to feel anything. Anything at all but all I feel is a never ending numbness and emptiness in my soul. My brother is dead leaving me alone in the world with no more living relatives and yet I do not care.
I guess I was alone long before he decided to off himself.
A news like this one would’ve easily crippled another man. A good man. A good brother.
Not me.
All I can think of at the moment is how not only did I learn of the asshole’s death at the same time the world did but that I’m faced with a barrage of accusations. The article mentions a note. A note Milton left behind, and it has everyone’s attention, as it supposedly trashes my name. Milton wrote about how much of an ingrate I was. That as I climbed to the top and made something of myself, I forgot about him and left him to rot in poverty. Motherfucker. His letter paints me as the villain, a shit brother who drove him to take his own life.
“Bitch,” I ground my teeth as I keep reading the article.
Even in his last moments on earth the motherfucker had to do wrong by me. He couldn’t left well alone yet decided to fuck me over one last time.
I slam my phone down on the pit wall, my hands shaking. Perry looks up from his phone, his face shifting from concentration to concern. Remi stops her pacing, her eyes wide as she takes in my reaction.
“Did you see this shit?” I ask, my voice cool and empty. “That motherfucker…”
They know. My team knows the lengths Milton has gone through to tarnish my name and extort shit from me over the years. The bastard has not only tried to extort money from me but sold fake stories about me to the media just for a quick buck.
“Yeah,” Perry says, his voice calm but laced with worry. “We’re handling it. We’ll do some damage control.”
“You’re handling?” I chuckle incredulously. “That fucker is dead, and they’re blaming me. They know shit.”
Remi steps closer, her usual cool composure cracked. “Hunt, you need to do as we say and nothing else. Foremost we need to stay focused and not give the public anymore reasons to trash you. We don’t want to make this bigger than it already is. We’ll issue a statement, and we’ll get the truth out there to all news magazines and tv outlets.”
“The truth?” I scoff, my voice cracking just a bit. “Come on, Rem. The truth has never mattered to the media. People believe what they want to believe and what makes them the most money.”
It’s true.
No one fucking cares the good someone does. They only focus on the bad and what helps them cancel someone just for fucking kicks.
So yes the internet only cares about the truth that makes them the most money with complete disregard about the life and career they’re destroying with their lies.
Fuck them.
I know the truth. I don’t care for anything else.
Good fucking riddance, Milton. Took you long enough.
Perry nods, his face stern but sympathetic. “We’ll clear your name and this will all blow over, but you have to stay out of the public’s eye.”
“Isn’t that admitting culpability?” I whisper through gritted teeth. “Hiding means that I’m admitting that I’m guilty of driving that son of a bitch to suicide.”
“He’s right, Perry. He should carry on with his life as if nothings wrong but don’t go overboard. No drinking. No fucking scandals. No women.” Remi warns.
“Maybe you can just lay low.” Perry adds.
I take a deep breath and turn back to the car, watching as the mechanics continue their work ignoring the rest.
“It’s all your fucking fault.”
“Look at us. Look at this shit life.”
“Fuck you, Mad.”
I can almost hear Milton’s voice as memories from the past try to make their way to the forefront of my mind after years buried in the shadows where they should stay.
“Madden,” Perry’s voice laced with concern snaps me out of my head.
