Jeannette Walls Dad Novels & Stories

his dad suggested. "What do you mean by that?" Ryan questioned. "What's your relationship with Juliette?" "Oh, Juliette. She's my Executive Assistant. There's nothing more to it," Ryan replied. "How much do you trust her?" his dad probed. "Well, I'd say about ninety percent," Ryan responded. "Hah! Ninety percent, huh? I understand why you trust her that much now. Especially since she's the one you've been fucking," his dad revealed, a smirk appearing on his face.

Vaughn I know about Ken Wallace and I know that he was once a friend of Dad’s. I also know that he tragically passed and that was years ago. 15 years or more. Keiran introduced himself as Keiran thorn not Wallace. That was why he was able to get under dad’s skin. Dad has no idea that Keiran is the son of his best friend.

All he said at the end was, "I'll be right there." He hung up and glanced at me. There was frustration in that look, and fear. But I didn't ask. He was halfway to the door when Owen spoke up. "Elliott." Elliott turned. "Don't come back. Every time my dad sees you, he's going to remember sitting by that kitchen door." Elliott stood there for a few seconds without a word, then turned and left. The door closed. Dad settled back down on the balcony and ran his hand over the new clasp on the chest.

I stared forlornly at the door. “What is Jennifer hiding?" My dad asked. He was staring contemplatively at the closed door when I turned to look at him. “She wouldn't say much". I said slowly. “But she knows some old stories about a cult of serial killers". My dad raised a brow. “A cult of serial killers?" I shrugged. “That's the vibe the story gives". “I see". He said. I sat down on the chair Jameson had just left. “And you and Jameson?" He asked lightly, picking a file and beginning to go through it.

Everyone’s eyes turned to her father. “He never recovered from being rejected. Bill, like Jay, was an enforcer, and he went to war. He didn’t come back, and I never believed it was an accident. I think he planned never to return, and I can’t fault him.” Michael Paxton didn’t look at anyone. Clearly, he had issues and guilt over this. “Seriously, you forced mom to choose. Now you’re trying to do the same thing to me, dad? I’m not doing it and we have a bond that’s unique and stable.”

He turned to leave, but I followed him into the hallway, my frustration mounting. “Dad, don’t tell me it was just some old history. You knew Jonathan Winters, didn’t you?” I demanded. “I saw the way you both looked at each other—like you’d seen a ghost.” My father sighed, his back still turned. “He… may have been one of my patients once,” he said slowly, as if testing the words. “That’s all. That’s why he looked familiar. I just thought he looked like someone I knew, but I was wrong.”

"My father is Wallace Creedmere, chairman of the Creedmere Group. Get me out of here, and my family will pay whatever you want!" "My dad is Gregory Langford, and my mom is Claudia Young. You know what those names mean in Volaris City!"

“Well, Mom doesn't like when Dad talks about his work when I'm around, but sometimes they think I'm studying or sleeping and then I listen to them.” “What do you hear?” “I hear when they talk about guns and money and men in jails that Dad has to take out and that he has to travel because they're in other states and stuff like that.” Son of a bitch, I didn't want to think that Taylor's father had anything to do with… “I think my Dad works with mobsters.” Yes, that’s what I was afraid of. “Look! Mom’s here!” And sure enough, the truck Vivienne and George used for appointments outside the shelter pull up in front of us at that moment.

Johnson, who thanked me with a nod, I sat down beside my father, offering him the other pack and a small, encouraging smile. "Dad, why did you attack Mr. Johnson? How do you even know each other?" I asked, my voice softening. "Know each other? I've never seen this man ever before in my life," Mr. Johnson interjected, frustratingly oblivious to the gravity of the situation. I shot him a glare that screamed 'shut the hell up' as I tried to extract answers from my father. "He's the man your mother had an affair with," my father sighed, and the revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. I stared at him, utterly flabbergasted.

Although Jacob had wounded me deeply, his betrayal couldn’t break me, not with the support of my annoying, nosy, lovable family. “I still think that boy shouldn’t have won in the first place,” said my dad caustically, “but I believe you when you say he didn’t outright copy you.” “You were right about the Wests: I should’ve stayed away from Jacob.” “We’ve all gotten mixed up with people we shouldn’t.” I raised an eyebrow. “Like who?” My dad leaned back in his chair, his expression faraway. “Did I ever tell you about Camilla Langdon?” He let out a whistle. “I dated her before I met your mother. Everybody in town knew she was bad news, but I didn’t listen.”