The Arrangement (unenhanced Edition) by AnnaRCase (beautiful books to read .txt) 📗

                “How fucking long?” she simply asked.

  Luckily, he knew what she meant.  She didn’t think she could bring herself to ask him his life expectancy in any other terms.

                “Once the symptoms appear, it’s usually between 17-20 years. But that depends on a variety of factors really. On average, people start having symptoms around age forty, but it can happen as young as two.  It depends on how severe your case progresses. The younger you are when your symptoms appear the more quickly it progresses.”

                “Hit me again Leo,” she advised, “What else will happen as it progresses?”

                “I’ll likely develop more tics. Which is uncontrolled movements of my limbs and head. My memory will slowly decline, as will my ability to reason, concentrate, plan, and organize, judgment all of that will be impaired. I already feel anxiety, it will only get worse. I’ll undergo personality changes, become aggressive, easily irritated. Maybe obsessive compulsive or bipolar.”

                It seemed like the billionaire was detached and clinical as he spoke. As if he were talking about these awful things happening to someone else. Fuck. She walked over to the counter and picked up the bottle of Grey Goose. She tilted back her head and drank deeply.

                “Easy there girl,” warned Leo.

                When she couldn’t handle anymore liquor sliding down her throat, she placed the bottle back onto the counter and wiped her mouth. She burped and could taste it coming back up her throat a bit. She forced it back down as both men looked at her worriedly.

                “So you said you’ll be in a wheelchair as well? Explain.”

                “Perhaps this is enough heavy shit for one night,” said Leo, “Maybe we should all get some sleep and pick this up in the morning.”

                “I won’t be here in the fucking morning Leo! Especially not after he just admitted our kid could like have all these horrible symptoms right from the start and not live to see their tenth fuckin birthday or some shit! I mean what kind of person does something like that? Sacrifice an innocent kid for the sake of their precious company.”

                “Most people don’t have any symptoms until later in life. And some die of other causes long before they are affected. Not to mention, there’s a chance my child would be unaffected.”

                “And that is supposed to make me feel fuckin better you bastard? Do you hear yourself right now Mr. Godwin? Would you enter into a contract if you were only guaranteed a fifty percent chance of success?” she scoffed.

                He didn’t  answer her question. “I already told you I release you from your contract Miss Dubois. But you are expected to keep my condition in confidence. I will make the arrangements in the morning to wire the funds into your account.”

                She laughed in his face, “Oh no you don’t fuckin do that. Don’t dismiss me rather than answer a question you rather wouldn’t Mr. Godwin. You caused this fucked up mess. Now face it. Tell me what else is in store for our potential kid. For you. Let me hear it damn you.”

                Leo placed himself in between them and gripped her shoulders gently, “Amber, you’ve had a lot to drink. It’s been an emotional day. I think now is not the time to continue this discussion.  If you don’t want to sleep here tonight, I’d be more than happy to take you a hotel or something to crash.”

                She shrugged out of Leo’s grip, “No. I’m not leaving this fucking kitchen until I get an answer. I deserve that much.”

                Grayson jerked the bottle of scotch from the marble counter and took a long drawl straight from it. So much for fancy ass rich pretenses and manners.

                “Grayson, what the fuck man. I know you’re upset right now, but drinking yourself silly won’t fucking help the situation. Only going to fuck with your meds.”

                Leo grabbed the bottle from his friend mid drink, not giving a fuck it caused it to christen the billionaire in alcohol. Alcohol soaked through his white shirt and he gave Leo a death glare.

                “Fuck Leo! I can make my own fuckin decisions. I’m not deranged yet!” he turned that glare in her direction, “To answer your question Miss Dubois, I’ll lose my balance and coordination. I’ll start to fall more and more until finally I’m confined into a wheelchair. I will lose my ability to speak, eat, swallow, fucking breath in the end. I’ll shit and piss on myself. Waste away to nothing. Be confined to a bed like an invalid and need someone to take care of me like I’m a fucking infant. I’ll most likely die from pneumonia. I hope I answered your question to your satisfaction Miss Dubois.”

                Amberleigh could only stare at him as he laughed. Honest to god laughed before he wrestled the bottle from Leo’s hand and took another drink. Leo just looked defeated and fucking crushed. She picked the bottle of Grey Goose back up from the counter and took another sip. Not knowing what else to do or say or think. Not wanting to think or feel or give a damn.

                “Let’s get you to bed G-Man. You need some rest. It’ll do you some good,” coaxed Leo gently.

                “You know I can’t fucking sleep Leo,” argued the billionaire, “Another perk of the disease.”

                “What’s it called?” she asked.

                It was Leo who answered this time. And he gave her a withering look which made her fell three inches tall. “Huntington’s disease. So far all the treatments are just to control symptoms, not curative.”

                “Don’t worry Mr. Godwin, I’ll be gone by the morning. I’m sure that will be a relief to you as I’m a pain you ass and only increase your stress level.  I wish you all the fucking best though.”