so I can focus on what’s really important. So instead, I say, “I don’t begrudge you helping JT with the start-up capital. Hell, that was of benefit to me too.”
My dad nods with a smile on his face, utterly relieved I’m not here to give him shit for helping his secret bastard son. But it’s time to knock that smile off his face.
“I don’t want you to loan him any more money,” I say firmly, making sure I hold his gaze, which instantly turns suspicious of me.
“Why?” is all he asks.
“I can’t tell you the details. I’m asking you to trust me on this.”
Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk, he steeples his hands in front of his face and stares at me pensively. Finally, he lowers his hands and asks, “Should I weigh your request to trust you on this with as much consideration as I’d give JT if he came to me and said he really needed the money? Should I trust his need as much as I trust your request? How do I distinguish when you’re not giving me any information?”
It’s a fair question, to be honest, yet I’m the one who doesn’t trust my dad with the details. “Look . . . I don’t expect you to distinguish between us as sons. You and I aren’t close; I expect no more than you and JT are close. You have a blood tie to us both, and I get that gives you some measure of need to help us out as best you can as a father. But I’m telling you, it would be in your best interest not to give him any more money.”
Dad’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “You want JT to fail at something, don’t you? I’d like to know why.”
“I want him to fail at getting a loan from you,” I say with a nod. “I’m hoping he’ll come to me for the money. I want to be his only resource.”
My dad is whip smart, keen, and shrewd. He understands immediately. “You’re going to use leverage to buy him out of the company.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
My dad doesn’t want to know my reasons so he can offer me fatherly advice. He wants to know so he can figure out exactly which son he should align with if it comes down to a choice.
“I can’t tell you the details,” I maintain. “But I’ll just say this . . . JT is not a good man. He’s rotten to the core, and trust me when I tell you, there’s going to come a time when you’re going to regret having him as a son. You’d best start distancing yourself now before you find out exactly how wretched a human being he is.”
My father’s stoic façade starts to crumble a bit. His brow wrinkles with worry. “If he’s in some type of trouble that will bring shame on my name, I need to know—”
I hold up a hand and cut him off. “How can he bring shame on your name? You’ve never publicly acknowledged him as your son. I suggest you keep it that way.”
For this first time since this conversation started, my father looks unbearably uncomfortable. He actually drops his eyes down to his desk, pressing a finger to his temple, which he taps consternation. I can see he’s troubled, and this makes me think that perhaps it’s not a well-guarded secret that JT is his son. I can tell by the worry in his eyes that someone else knows, and this worries him.
“Dad,” I press him. “Will you do as I ask?”
Sitting back in his chair, my father sighs deeply as he raises his gaze back to me. He seems to be searching for something to say, but I can tell indecision is warring within him.
“I’m telling you, Dad . . . if you believe anything I say, don’t give him the money. Things will get very ugly if you do.”
“Is that a threat to me?” my dad asks, not in an affronted manner, but with a tired edge to his voice.
“Not at all,” I assure him quickly, and then decide to give him just a tiny bit more information to help sway his decision because I need him on board. “I’m telling you JT is bad news. I’m not going to give you details, but I will tell you he’s committed a crime that could see him doing serious time in prison. You need to distance yourself from him so you don’t get dragged down