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“Just have the hotel send me the bill.”
“Money is not going to fix this,” Rausch yells, “especially when you don’t have any.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
Alistair straightens. “Can we just calm down?”
“I don’t think either of you fuckups really understand the gravity of the situation,” Rausch spits, pinching his eyebrows as if he’s talking to two disorderly students instead of two grown men. “Your parents are dead, and not only is that a difficult situation for Congress, but it also means your money – your parent’s money,” he makes a point to say, “is tied up in probate.”
“Can you – just stop saying that?” I throw my hands up.
“That your parents are dead? No, because the sooner you wake up and join reality, the better.”
“What do you mean, there’s no money?”
“The money is locked up in probate.”
I look up from the floor to meet Rausch’s satisfied gaze, and in a matter of a second, I upturn the coffee table, the contents scattering across the room. The security man makes his way over, but stops when Rausch raises his hand.
“What the fuck do you mean, probate?” I question, staring at Rausch with my chest heaving.
“You went to law school; did they not teach you about probate law?” Rausch doesn’t rattle easily, that’s why he got the reputation he has. Unbreakable, formidable, and effective – The Kingmaker.
Of course I know about probate law, and that means my parents money could be frozen anywhere from six months to two years.
I’m mad at Rausch for being the only one I have right now. I’m mad at myself for being such a fuckup. I’m mad at the pilot for crashing the helicopter. I’m mad that I feel anything.
“Is that what you think I’m worried about?” I ask him.
“You have worried about no one else but yourself, Darren, your whole life,” Rausch lectures. “What do you think your mother would say if she saw you right now?” His eyes travel south, and then over to Evangeline, who is still standing next to me, eyeing the exit that is still blocked by the security guard.
If I want to drink and fuck myself into oblivion, that’s my choice, but it’s a low blow to use my mother to get a reaction out of me. As much as I want to think that I’m invincible, there is a chink in my armor—my mother—and Rausch knows it.
“Jesus, Dare.” Alistair hands me a pair of shorts, even though it’s too late for modesty and any sort of decorum.
“This is what I’m talking about.” Rausch points to the overturned table. “It’s exactly why your parents put stipulations in their wills.”
I pull on the shorts and toss my hair out of my eyes. “Stipulations?” I ask, cautiously.
“Yes, Darren. If you weren’t being such a fucking child, you would listen to me,” Rausch continues, and he’s right. I don’t want to listen to him, but he has me in a stranglehold right now, like a boa constrictor around my neck. Worse yet, he knows it.
My father rarely discussed business with me, and he certainly didn’t make me privy to his will or his wishes, should something happen to him. He certainly wasn’t anticipating dying in a helicopter crash with my mom and leaving me alone to figure things out.
When I look at Rausch I take that back, because my father did anticipate such things, he just put Rausch in charge—not me. He never would have trusted me to handle his estate. Right now, I’m at Rausch’s mercy, so I keep my mouth shut while the anger burns through me.
“You don’t get any money until you’re thirty years old,” Rausch says, and then after a dramatic pause, adds, “or married.”
Jesus fuck!
He’ll make me beg, give me condescending lectures, and torture me for the next three fucking years. My heart sinks into my stomach, and Rausch can see it all on my face – the realization that he owns me. A satisfied smirk appears on his mouth.
Perhaps if I had been the good son, stayed out of trouble, listened to him more, prayed at the altar of Emerson, who he loved so fucking much, maybe then he wouldn’t have put Rausch in charge of his affairs.
I narrow my eyes at Rausch because I’ve never been known to back down from a fight, and I still have skin in this game. It’s an impulsive move, but dire situations require dire action. I grab Evangeline, pulling her to my side. “Well, isn’t it convenient that my fiancée is right here?”
She looks at me with shock on her face. I lean in with a pleading look to kiss the side of her neck and whisper, “I’ll pay you extra.” Whether that has any weight with her or not after what she just heard, I don’t know, but I slip my arm around her waist and tug her closer.
“Are you fucking serious?” Rausch laughs.
