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“You did this,” Robert seethes.
“Your hands are all over it too,” my father reminds him.
“You think so?” Robert smirks. “You need not be so trusting, old man.”
“Fuck you,” my father spits, but there is less venom and more worry in his tone.
“Your father gambled with some money belonging to his clients. Made some bad investments,” Robert explains.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Your grandparents, your father’s mother really, left you an inheritance,” my mother informs me.
“What? Grandma Edna?”
“Yes.”
“How did I not know about this?” I ask her.
“Your father is a control freak.”
“That’s enough,” my father demands, but he’s losing his ire.
“Legally, you weren’t to have access until you were twenty-one.”
“I don’t understand. Why keep it from me? Why insist that I marry Robert?” I shudder even at the words, and Deacon pulls me closer. I feel his lips press to the back of my head.
“Your grandmother stated in the guidelines of the inheritance that any man that you marry would also have access. She was a sucker for love, as you know, and she insisted that any man you found worthy enough of changing your last name was also worthy enough to have access to your money.”
“Is that even legal?”
“It’s written in the will that the man you marry is set to receive fifty percent of the funds.”
“How much money are we talking about?”
“One hundred million.”
“W-What?” I sputter.
“She left you everything!” my father yells. “All of it. My family's fortune goes to you.”
“Why? I mean, why on earth would she leave me that kind of money?”
“She left you a letter.”
“Jesus, Angela. Shut the hell up.” My father runs his fingers through his hair. He’s losing his cool.
“Where is the letter?”
“With the family attorney.”
“So your father,” I say, glancing over at Robert.
He nods. “The plan was for us to get married. I’d get fifty million, and I could clean up the mess the firm was in.”
“Why? You could wash your hands of it all and leave.”
“My father.”
That’s all he needs to say. I know that his father has always been his idol, and he’s always strived for his attention to make him proud. He thought this would have done it, but we both know that Robert Barrington wouldn’t have given a single fuck as long as his ass was covered.
“You’re not sick?” I ask my mother.
“No. Not physically. Mentally.” She shrugs.
I stand here at the top of the stairs in the home I grew up in and see my parents for what they are. Money-hungry fools. And Robert, and his father, they’re no better. My eyes swing to my aunt Carol and uncle Raymond. They’ve been quiet through all of this, as has Deacon, but they’re here. All three of them. My pillars of strength reminding me that this is my life, and I can do with it as I wish.
“Thank you for telling me. Robert, please tell your father that Deacon Setty, my attorney, will be in touch.” I turn in Deacon’s arms. “Take me home.”
Deacon nods, slipping his arm around my waist. He motions for my aunt and uncle to precede us down the stairs.
“Ramsey!” my father yells. “Get back here. You can’t just leave. You can’t take what’s mine.”
I ignore him, taking each step in time with Deacon. We make it to the door, and my father calls out for me again. I don’t bother looking back. I have no desire to be a member of this family any longer.
Deacon opens the passenger door of the rental for me, while Uncle Raymond does the same for Aunt Carol. No one says a word as he pulls out onto the road, leaving the two people who gave me life behind.
My mind is racing with all that I’ve learned. My mother isn’t sick. It was just some ploy for my father to get me here and try to force my hand to marry Robert. My grandma Edna left me more money than I can spend in a lifetime. She passed when I was nine, and I have nothing but fond memories of her.
I can’t help but think about my life two years ago and the fear I felt when I left. Fear mixed with freedom. Today, all I feel is… happy. I made a choice, the hard choice two years ago, to walk away. Today that choice was easy as I walked away for the second time, and I have no regrets. Removing my seat belt, I turn to look at my aunt and uncle.
“Rams, put your belt back on,” Deacon says softly.
I ignore him, which causes him to signal and pull over to the side of the road. “Not risking your safety, baby. Say what you need to say. We’re listening,” he assures me.
“I love you both,” I tell my aunt and uncle. “Thank you for saving me. You gave me a safe place to land when I needed it. You helped me get on my feet, and every day since the first, you’ve treated me as if I were your daughter. I can’t tell you what your love and generosity mean to me.”
