Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Steel could refer to anything,” I say. “It may even refer to the Steel family that we know. That doesn’t mean the Steels created the trust or even know about it, which they don’t.”
“I’m not paying,” Hardy says.
“I agree.” I nod. “I don’t think any of us should pay a damned cent until we find out who it is we’re paying.”
“That’s the ticket,” someone yells. “We don’t pay them a damned thing. Let’s send those Steel fuckers into the poorhouse!”
I can’t help an eye roll. I’m not sure who made that comment, but if they think not paying off these liens can send the Steels anywhere near the poorhouse, they’re delusional.
“That’s not my point,” I say. “Right now, we don’t know who we’re sending money to.”
“So you think the Steel family has nothing to do with something called the Steel Trust,” Rudy Kline, our mechanic, says.
I meet his gaze. “I know it, Rudy. I’ve talked to Donny Steel.”
“He’s probably lying to you.”
“No, he’s not. Most of you know that I’m dating Ava Steel.”
“None of us blame Ava for this,” Rita from the café says. “She’s not like the rest of the Steels.”
“No, she’s not,” I agree, “but that’s not my point, Rita. Most of you know the Steels. Most of you know they’re good people.”
Murmurs of yes flow through the room, though there are a few who aren’t buying it.
“I agree with Benji,” someone says from the back. “Let’s take the Steels down.”
My dad speaks up then. “Porter, we don’t have the resources to take the Steels down. But I agree with my son.”
“Your son is in bed with a Steel, Sean!” Porter Holland, the grocer, yells.
“That’s enough.” I advance toward Porter in the back.
My father pulls me back. “Brendan, now is not the time.”
I gaze at my father, my fists clenched. “Did you just hear what he said?”
Dad lets go of me. “I did, and you’re out of line, Porter. My son trusts Donny Steel, and I trust my son. I don’t think the Steels know about this trust.”
“We were all idiots to purchase our property with the liens in place,” someone says.
“No, we weren’t idiots,” Dad says. “We were told by our realtors at the time that the liens were inconsequential. And for the last fifty-odd years, they have been.”
“The realtors were probably in bed with the Steels,” someone says.
I say nothing. I’ve thought of this myself. Ever since Donny told me that the Steel family doesn’t know what this trust is or does, I figured it had to start with a Steel somewhere—just not any of the Steels we know. The citizens of Snow Creek aren’t morons. They wouldn’t have purchased property subject to a lien unless a realtor or lawyer convinced them it was inconsequential.
“We can’t go back in time to question those realtors or any of the deceased Steels,” I say. “All we can do is deal with the now of the situation. We have to be proactive. My father and I aren’t going to pay these liens.”
“You can just get your damned girlfriend to pay for you.” Porter sneers.
This time I don’t let Dad hold me back. I push through the crowd, and I grab Porter by the collar, throwing him against the wall. “You say one more word about my relationship with Ava, and I’m going to take you out.”
“Hey, Brendan, I didn’t mean nothing.”
“Son…” My father’s voice makes its way through the din.
I let go of Porter.
“What, no apology?” Porter says.
God, this man has a lot of nerve. I’m way bigger and way younger than he is, and I could push him into the next week with a flick of my fist. “No. No apology.” I turn, walk back to the front of the room, and join my father.
“We’re all in this together,” Dad says. “So we need to act as one.”
Porter scoffs from the back.
“And Porter,” Dad says, “if you’re not with the rest of us, I invite you to leave.”
Porter looks to Benji. “I’m not with them. Are you?”
“Yeah, I am,” Benji finally relents. “None of us has the resources to fight the Steels on his own. We need to stick together, Port.”
I’m hoping Porter will walk out, but he shoves his hands into the pockets of his work pants and finally nods. “All right.”
“That means,” I say, “no more talk about Ava, Donny, or any of them. The Steels of my generation are good, solid people. Remember, all of this started before any of them were born.”
Murmurs of general agreement, but Porter and Benji still don’t look convinced.
The two of them won’t go against the crowd, though. They’re not strong enough. They’re a couple of old geezers who are set in their ways, and they like to think they know everything. They may remember Brad Steel for all I know. But they’ll fall in line. My father will see to that. He commands a lot of respect in this town, and he’ll keep them from going off half-cocked.