Summary: Striker has a rather unpleasant meeting with his father-in-law.
"Howdy, Striker! The usual, I guess?"
"Not this time, Hank. I'm just goin' to exchange a few words with someone." Striker sat at his usual table, placing his hat aside.
The saloon was mostly empty at this time of the day, as most of the patrons were still working. Perhaps that's the reason he was appointed at this hour in particular. After all, the person who sent him the note never liked to mingle with the 'riffraff'.
"How's yer boy doin', Striker? He didn't come with ya this time, did he?"
"Nah, he's got a cold and had to stay back home. A friend's lookin' after him while I'm out, so he'll be fine."
"I hope he gets well soon."
Striker waited at the table for about fifteen minutes before the person he was supposed to meet finally showed up. His tail rattled angrily at the sight. The tall, burly imp looked older but otherwise unchanged from the last time he saw him. He still had that pompous, snobbish air about him.
"Striker." The landowner said with venom in his voice.
"Gustav." Striker retorted, meeting the old man's eyes defiantly. He wasn't the poor 'plebian boy' he could humiliate at his leisure anymore. "I'm surprised you actually had the gall to step into this 'stinkin' death hole.'"
"I usually wouldn't lower myself to such a thing, but I'd rather do it than allow you into my property." Gustav had a servant put a pillow on the chair before sitting down. The old imp looked around. "Where is my grandson?"
"What made you think I'd want my son to meet you, Gustav?"
"I am his grandfather."
Striker laughed humorlessly. "That's a curious claim, considering that you didn't want anything to do with him or Jane before." he narrowed his eyes. "Let's get this over with. What the fuck do you want, Gustav?"
Gustav exhaled a trail of smoke from his cigar. "I wish to talk about my grandson's future, of course."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"As you're aware, I have no sons, only two insignificant daughters. The one who might have been worthy of inheriting everything I have was Jane, but she's..." Gustav paused as a pained look adorned his features. "Anyhow, I've spoken to my lawyer to make Jake my universal heir. All of my lands, properties, assets, and otherwise shall be at his disposal once I kick the bucket." Gustav slid a folder towards Striker. "There you have a copy of my will. La Arango, my 20 pureblood Hellhorses, 30 cars, all of my estates in the ring of Wrath, my houses in Lust and Greed, and everything else will be at my grandson's disposal when he comes of age."
Tentatively, Striker grabbed the folder and took a peek. There was an official-looking document inside. He might not know that much about laws, but he more or less knew what it was about.
"In the meantime, I'd like him to live with me La Arango so he can be properly educated and become worthy of..." Gustav trailed off as Striker snickered. "May I ask what is it you find so funny?"
"Let me get this straight. You turn yer back on Jane and cut her off when she needs you the most, you never bother to send 'yer grandson' a shitty birthday card for nine years, you never asked about him, how he's doin' or how much alike he is to his mother, your daughter." Striker's voice grew darker as he spoke, tail rattling. "And now, you think that givin' my son expective gifts and wantin' to turn him into somethin' he's not will make up for it?"
"I am simply trying to give my grandson the life you will never be able to give him! What can a rundown, uncultured assassin provide for a child?"
"Well, for starters, I can give him my unconditional love! I was there when Jake was born! I've been there for him when he needed me, in the good and the bad. True, we may have had difficult times, but we always got back on our feet together. I held my son when he cried, I've raised and kept him safe for nine years. And you know whaT? Jake is the happiest, most courageous impling you'll ever meet. I know for certain that Jane would be very proud of our child."
"If my daughter were here, she'd want her son to meet his grandfather-!" Gustav was stunned into silence as Striker slammed his hands on the table, eyes glowing in anger as he hissed threateningly. The rings around his pupils had thickened.
"Don't you fuckin' dare speak about Jane as if you knew her, you pompous, misogynist piece of horse shit! You never truly knew your own daughter, all you cared about was havin' a pretty little doll on a crystal case to display to yer friends! When you realized that you'd never be able to break her, you threw her out to fend for herself!
"You don't have a shitty anythin', Gustav. If you truly cared, you would have been there for Jake. You would have put aside yer contempt of me and yer fuckin' pride for his sake, but you never did. So don't come actin' like a lovin' grandfather because it doesn't fit you! So you can take yer shitty money, assets and shove them up your ass!"
Striker ripped the folder, and its contents, in half. He grabbed his hat, stomped out of the saloon and rode away.