Chill Factor

William studied him for a moment, clearly as puzzled by the unannounced visit as his sister was. “Of course.” He motioned Scott toward the living room, where a fire was blazing in the neat, brick fireplace. “Please excuse us, Marilee.”

“Can I take your coat, Scott?” she asked.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Would you like something to drink?”

“No thank you, Miss Ritt. I won’t be here that long.”

Plainly her curiosity was killing her, but she smiled pleasantly and said, “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

William waited until she had closed the door to the kitchen before indicating a chair. “Have a seat.”

“I’ll stand.”

William gave him a measured look as he pulled the napkin from his shirt collar and carefully folded it before setting it on an end table. “You sound out of sorts.”

“I’m not going to take any more steroids.”

Taken aback, William said, “Really? Are you noticing side effects since we began stacking?”

They had started Scott out with oral steroids. Dissatisfied with the results and impatient to see improved performance more quickly, Wes had begun adding injections. While injections bypassed the metabolic process and alleviated some side effects, there were still serious concerns. Any usage could damage the taker’s body as well as alter his behavior. Scott had read about the particular dangers of combining or “stacking” the injections with steroids taken orally.

“Increased sexual desire but decreased erectile function, eh, Scott?”

William’s sly expression was not only infuriating but repugnant. What did this weird, creepy runt know about erectile function?

Then William winked and laughed nastily. “Judging by your popularity with the ladies, I don’t believe sexual dysfunction is the problem. Are you worried about a few pimples?”

Scott refused to be goaded. “I’m not taking them anymore. Not the shots and not the pills. My dad is paying you a lot of money for them. He’s paying you even more to keep your mouth shut about it. But it stops as of now.”

Unruffled, William sat down on the upholstered armrest of the chair. “Have you discussed this decision with Wes?”

“I don’t need to. I’m an adult.”

“There’s more to being an adult than achieving your eighteenth birthday.”

His tone was so condescending Scott wanted to punch him.

“Forgive me for stating the obvious, Scott, but Wes will be opposed to this decision of yours.”

“If he forces the issue, I’ll rat him out.”

“To whom?”

“For starters, the school board. Newspapers. Believe me, I’ll make myself heard.”

“That would end his coaching career.”

“That’s the idea.”

“You’re doing this to ruin your father?”

“He ruined himself.”

William pursed his lips as though he were thinking that over. “I see your point.” Then he raised his shoulders in a shrug. “But I’m confused. This sounds like a problem between you and Wes. Why are you here?”

“One of your sugar tits is about to be cut off. You’ll lose money. I’m here to tell you not to butt in.”