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Chill

“How did it go?” Nanci asked as we entered the clubhouse.

“Total wipeout. We left Gerard pinned down and sobbing,” Kendara announced with a huge grin.

“Asshole flipped out. Keep a sharp eye on your girl,” Diesel warned. “You’ve taken millions off an egomaniac. Gerard will strike back.”

“We know, and we’re prepared for him,” Inglorious replied, approaching and shoulder-hugging Diesel.

“We are?” I demanded. Since when had I become part of the UBMC?

“Yes, Meadow. The club is ready to handle your ex,” Inglorious responded.

“Please, just get everything sold and set up in the way I asked. I don’t want this hanging around my neck. Gerard is unpredictable,” I stated.

“Gerard’s facing a lot of financial issues. He has to pay that fancy lawyer for a start, and Kent isn’t cheap.” Kendara frowned.

“Gerard’s going to come for me,” I said slowly, realising for the first time what that meant.

“We’ll be waiting,” Inglorious promised.

“I need to go,” I muttered.

Inglorious nodded, and I fled.

They’d meant well, I decided as I got into the wreck that acted as my car. I knew they did, but now it seemed to sink in what they’d done. Maybe the club had gone too far. I drove away, trying to decide whether I should offer Gerard half of what was now mine. That would be fair. It might also pacify him, but then I thought of Judy and that fuckin’ necklace.

I remembered how Judy had seen me in the street as she talked with some of her cronies while she was wearing it. Who the hell wore a diamond necklace to have coffee with her girlfriends? Judy did.

Judy had sneered at me in my hand-me-down clothing and bragged loudly about how much it had cost. Her friends had tittered and laughed as they also looked down their noses at me.

Judy knew my children had nothing. She’d been so selfish and greedy. That, I couldn’t forgive. Nope. Gerard had been dining out; I’d seen the receipts for two-hundred-dollar dinners, while my kids made do with the cheapest groceries I could find. No, there was no forgiving that.

I parked outside the squalor we lived in and paused. I’d automatically come here. This little shithole with its broken plumbing and once-a-day hot water had become home. I yanked out my phone and opened my bank account. There, sitting in it, was a balance that took my breath away. The club had done as they’d said. They’d taken all Gerard’s money and given it to me.

I climbed out and spent the afternoon packing things. We’d not be staying here tonight. All our belongings fit into six boxes. How tragically sad. Shoving them into the car, I headed for the mansion Gerard had owned. At the traffic lights, my mind wandered as I worried if Gerard would be waiting to pounce.

Several men ducked into an alley, a woman brushed the street in front of her shop, and a dog walker corralled three dogs. Life continued despite what was happening in mine. It was humbling.

I parked my piece of shit car outside and stared up at the home I’d never been truly comfortable in. Another vehicle pulled up, and I was surprised to see Kendara.

“Let me guess, I don’t own this,” I said with a smile.

“Oh no. You do. But Gerard is on his way, apparently, so I’ve called for backup. Here’s the key.” Kendara held her hand out and dropped a key into mine. “Are you moving in?”

I gazed at the huge, ornate building for a few long moments. “No, I’m going to grab the kid’s stuff and go to a hotel while I search for another house.”

“Go on,” Kendara urged. “We’ll handle Gerard.”

I didn’t ask who would; I just went up the steps and opened the door. The aroma of hyacinths swept over me, and I gagged a little. It was Judy’s favourite scent, and it was far too strong. I bet Gerard had many headaches with that stench.

I headed upstairs to the main bedroom.

Gerard and Judy would have unlikely left my clothing in there, but it was worth checking for any of my things.

They proved me correct; there was nothing of mine remaining. What devastated me was that the kids’ rooms were empty. I couldn’t find any of their belongings. The cherished baseball in Cassian’s room—gone. A book with pressed flowers that Poet had loved and her favourite stuffed unicorn—gone. Zion’s beloved matchmaker collection, also missing. Sadly, I headed downstairs and paused when I heard footsteps.

I came face-to-face with Mr Lyons, Gerard’s butler who’d been with his parents. The old man looked down his nose.