AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I swallowed back bile and nodded my head, reaching for the folder with shaking hands.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked, knowing good and well this was the only thing she could do for me.
“No, thank you,” I said as I stood. “I appreciate your time.”
We shook hands. She walked me to her door. I left her behind me, trying to tamp down tears, but the closer I got to the sliding doors of the bank, the less control I possessed. I couldn’t see past the curtain of tears, the futility of our circumstance a sledgehammer, and I’d been driven into the ground.
I have to get out of here. I have to get out. I have to—
I slammed into a blurry figure who caught me before I ricocheted off them.
“Olivia?”
When I blinked, fat tears fell without even touching my cheeks, revealing Chase Patton.
He looked down at me with worry all over his face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
I shook my head, desperate to get away. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“You look fine,” he teased gently.
A wan smile. “If you’ll excuse me …”
“You’re really not going to tell me?”
He asked the question with such care, I wavered. But at the remembrance of what he’d done to Jake and our farm, my back stiffened.
“Why should I tell you anything? You’re the reason our farm is in trouble.”
“How so?”
“Jake told me what your father did. The cost of Jake’s freedom was our farm. And if you all hadn’t turned him in, we wouldn’t even be here right now.”
He glanced in the direction of the offices, then at my black dress, this time worn to a funeral for hope. Understanding passed across his face.
“Is it that bad?” he asked. “I heard your cows were sick—”
“Well, aren’t you well informed? Please, don’t keep me here any longer. I’m humiliated enough as it is.”
Chase shook his head, looked at his shoes. “I’m not the kid I used to be.”
“No, now you’re the grown-up version of the Patton asshole.”
“You don’t understand …” He paused. Glanced at the ground. Shook his head. “I’m the one who told my dad about Jake when I heard at school. All because I thought it’d please my father, and it did. I got the pat on the head I wanted and ruined your farm. It was my fault. But what I didn’t know then was that James Patton is never satisfied and he never will be.”
I glared at him. “What do you want from me, forgiveness? Because that’s not mine to give. And you don’t want to know what I think of you right now.”
“I’ve laid awake nights like people do. Most people think about inconsequential things—something they said carelessly, an embarrassing moment, a childhood bully. But I think about how many lives I did or could have ruined with that one little scrap of information.”
“Good. You should be ashamed of yourself. I hope it keeps you up for the rest of your days, Chase Patton.”
“Let me try to make amends. Can I try to make it right?”
“Your words are worth less than dirt, so I doubt it.”
“But what about money?”
I closed my mouth, swallowed what I was about to say so I could take a confused moment to parse what he’d said. “I have no use for Patton money.”
He pulled a checkbook out of his back pocket and opened it. “How much do you need?”
“You can’t buy your way back into my good graces. And I’m with Jake now—if there was no chance of it happening before, now it would end up with you in traction.”
Ignoring me, he did his best to scribble in the checkbook without something solid to write on. “A hundred thousand enough?”
“I cannot fucking believe you,” I said under my breath before turning.
But he grabbed my arm. “Olivia, please.”
Something in the way he’d said it stopped me. I whirled around to face him. “I don’t understand what you’re doing. We won’t partner with Patton Farms, and you can’t have me. So what’s your angle?”
“There’s no angle. You’d be clearing my conscience, and I’d be setting something to rights that I broke a long time ago. Two hundred thousand,” he said as he wrote each number and signed it with a scratching swoop of his pen. He ripped the check out and handed it to me.
I stared at it.
“No strings. Just … think about it. Okay? Talk to Jake. If you want me to sign some sort of release, I will. This is money my father has made on account of you, money he gave to me to do what I would with. It should cover the cost of Jake’s immigration.”
I shook my head but didn’t speak.
“Take the money,” he urged. “None of this would have happened if not for me—you said so yourself. You need help. I can help you. Take the check and make sure the answer is a hard no before tearing it up. That’s all I’m asking. Because if you couldn’t get money here—”
