you mean?”
“You think you're so fucking clever. You think you understand me? You don't understand shit. You didn't get all my secrets little man.”
The gauze on his lip had became loose, a fleck of blood landed on the table.
“All I wanted to do was try and make things right. As right as they could be made again. Your 'secrets' just happened to be what I needed to do that. You don't think the families of those people deserved a little closure?”
Victor chomped at his lip like it was a piece of bubble gum until it was completely exposed again.
“You made me think you were my friend.”
Maybe it was the week he had, or maybe he had just had his fill of this little game but Jeremy just couldn't conjure any more tact.
“What basis would someone like you and someone like me ever have for a friendship?”
“So? What? You’re just going to write a book about me now, and what? Make a million dollars?”
“A million dollars?” Jeremy scoffed. “I wish.”
In a flash Matherport was reaching across the table, his big heavy hands crushing Jeremy's wrists, pulling him across the table towards him, strangling Jeremy before the guards even noticed. They scrambled to get the door open. Realizing he wouldn't have enough time to kill him by asphyxiation Matherport bent down and sunk his teeth into Jeremy's throat. He tried his best to dig deep enough to tear a sufficient chunk away but Jeremy did a good job holding Matherport's head in place so he was not able to wrench away a bite. Then the guards were in the room, screaming at him and beating him with batons until he went limp and released his prey.
Jeremy fell to the floor and rolled away to safety, clutching at his throat to stop the bleeding. He realized he was going to be okay, the wound was not fatal and then stood up and watched as the guards beat Victor to a bloody pulp, wishing he could join in.
Just another day at the office.
CHAPTER 12
Simon Codwell was born to his teenage parents Jacob Codwell and Becky Griffith on a hot Saturday afternoon in the month of August, nineteen sixty.
After leaving Clementine Tennessee they had driven clear across five states before running out of gas and money in Arizona. Jacob was lucky to find work at a small farm for a couple weeks which offered as part of his pay room and board for Becky and himself. With the money he made there they pressed on for sunny California, which in the end didn't really match up with their expectations, except for maybe the 'sunny', part but it was a good of a place as any to stay put and grow some roots. Little did they know that would entail a child so soon.
For twelve hours Becky was in labour while Jacob paced nervously in the waiting room, sneaking sips here and there of whisky from a metal flask in his jacket pocket until a pretty young nurse came and retrieved him.
“You can come in now Mr. Codwell.”
When he entered the room his son was in Becky's little arms.
“Hey baby,” She said, exhausted but glowing with pride. “Come say hello.”
Nine months was nowhere near enough time for him to prepare himself for that moment. He thought it would be beautiful and joyous but as he slowly walked towards his newborn son the only emotion he felt was fear. He was so small, so fragile and it was up to him to make sure that he was safe. That he was fed, and clothed
“You think you're so fucking clever. You think you understand me? You don't understand shit. You didn't get all my secrets little man.”
The gauze on his lip had became loose, a fleck of blood landed on the table.
“All I wanted to do was try and make things right. As right as they could be made again. Your 'secrets' just happened to be what I needed to do that. You don't think the families of those people deserved a little closure?”
Victor chomped at his lip like it was a piece of bubble gum until it was completely exposed again.
“You made me think you were my friend.”
Maybe it was the week he had, or maybe he had just had his fill of this little game but Jeremy just couldn't conjure any more tact.
“What basis would someone like you and someone like me ever have for a friendship?”
“So? What? You’re just going to write a book about me now, and what? Make a million dollars?”
“A million dollars?” Jeremy scoffed. “I wish.”
In a flash Matherport was reaching across the table, his big heavy hands crushing Jeremy's wrists, pulling him across the table towards him, strangling Jeremy before the guards even noticed. They scrambled to get the door open. Realizing he wouldn't have enough time to kill him by asphyxiation Matherport bent down and sunk his teeth into Jeremy's throat. He tried his best to dig deep enough to tear a sufficient chunk away but Jeremy did a good job holding Matherport's head in place so he was not able to wrench away a bite. Then the guards were in the room, screaming at him and beating him with batons until he went limp and released his prey.
Jeremy fell to the floor and rolled away to safety, clutching at his throat to stop the bleeding. He realized he was going to be okay, the wound was not fatal and then stood up and watched as the guards beat Victor to a bloody pulp, wishing he could join in.
Just another day at the office.
CHAPTER 12
Simon Codwell was born to his teenage parents Jacob Codwell and Becky Griffith on a hot Saturday afternoon in the month of August, nineteen sixty.
After leaving Clementine Tennessee they had driven clear across five states before running out of gas and money in Arizona. Jacob was lucky to find work at a small farm for a couple weeks which offered as part of his pay room and board for Becky and himself. With the money he made there they pressed on for sunny California, which in the end didn't really match up with their expectations, except for maybe the 'sunny', part but it was a good of a place as any to stay put and grow some roots. Little did they know that would entail a child so soon.
For twelve hours Becky was in labour while Jacob paced nervously in the waiting room, sneaking sips here and there of whisky from a metal flask in his jacket pocket until a pretty young nurse came and retrieved him.
“You can come in now Mr. Codwell.”
When he entered the room his son was in Becky's little arms.
“Hey baby,” She said, exhausted but glowing with pride. “Come say hello.”
Nine months was nowhere near enough time for him to prepare himself for that moment. He thought it would be beautiful and joyous but as he slowly walked towards his newborn son the only emotion he felt was fear. He was so small, so fragile and it was up to him to make sure that he was safe. That he was fed, and clothed
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