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Thank you. ~Gabriella
My phone chimes with another message and it’s Elise’s name that flashes across the screen. I click to see what she wants, but it’s nothing but more bull crap. More demands. More fake concern for a friendship she trampled on.
Gabriella, we need to talk. Enough is enough. Please think of our friendship…stop hurting me. ~Elise.
“Why can’t she leave me alone,” I mutter, closing her message and typing another one for Theo. Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll go away. Not likely, but here’s to hoping.
I’m about to receive certified mail at my front door. Don’t know what it’s about. ~Gabriella
Go ahead. It’s from my lawyer and the Hall firm. ~Theo
That makes me feel better; knowing he’s aware brings a little peace to my chaotic mind. The man is patient and kind, never pushy or rude. I wish he was here.
Thank you. ~Gabriella
And I miss you. ~Gabriella
I don’t wait for his reply and rush downstairs where the man is still waiting. He’s patient. I can make out his form typing something on his phone from the windows on either side of the door.
He then pockets the device seconds before I unlock the door and open it, meeting his eyes. “Sorry for the delay. I was in the middle of something important.”
“It’s okay, Miss. Just sign here for me.” The older gentleman hands over a clipboard and pen and after I sign my name, we switch, and I get my envelope. “Have a nice day.”
“You too,” I call out to his retreating form, but I don’t think he hears me. Stepping back in, I close and lock the door before tearing off the flap sealing the documents. The first thing I make out is the letterhead from Hall & Associates. Just one Hall, not two as it had been before in the paperwork Theo showed me. Then, I see the contents and I am floored. Literally left standing upright while I smile—breathe—for the first time in a while without choking on my pain. “Christ, he withdrew everything. She won’t own anything.”
Tears fill my eyes as I scan through the rest.
This is from the younger brother, the remaining Hall, and it’s more than I ever thought to receive back. There’s an apology and so much more, line after line of willing help.
We will file the right copyright free of charge.
We will pay for any fees you will incur and fight on your behalf, legally, against those who sought to hurt you through this fraudulent claim.
We are sorry for what a member of our family has done to you, your name, and your property/business. Please let us make amends on the actions of my deceased brother. He was wrong, so wrong, and my family and I vow to make reparations to those hurt by him as more of his illicit activities come to light.
I can feel their pain through each line, and my heart hurts for them. None of this is their fault, and this goes beyond what they are liable for. Because money is one thing, but to truly want to help and follow through with your time and dedication means a lot.
It also makes Elise’s sudden panic clearer. Her words the other day that I withdraw the case.
And yet, I can’t help but feel that there’s something I’m missing. A part of the puzzle that hasn’t revealed itself.
A yawn escapes me then and I close my eyes, head thrown back as I stretch. Days without sleep are hard, especially without the hour cat nap to help. My body goes through lethargic moments and others of manic energy; the yo-yoing effect causing me to stumble toward my TV room in the back of the house where my comfy couch awaits with my favorite afghan.
The news and the revelations continue to mount and for some reason, I feel struck with a whip and need to take a breather. The papers fall from my grip and onto the couch cushion beside me.
“Just for a second.” That’s all I need before making my fourth cup of coffee today. “Ten minutes at the most…”
His hand is on the small of my back as we follow the hostess to our table. The young woman in front of us sways her hips, tries to garner the attention of every man in the room, and yet fails miserably. Pathetically.
I’m embarrassed for her. I giggle through our mind link—our sacred bond—and he chuckles, amused by my candor. But then again, I’m always nothing but honest, that breath of fresh air in his frozen lungs.
His dead heart beats for me.
His darkness surrounds me in warmth.
Moreover, it’s been that way since I broke into the vampiric kingdom one late autumn evening and sat atop the king’s bed waiting for him. His bed.
The plan was to ask for a truce. To demand the vampire patriarch back off my family’s territory and end his kingdom’s raids—the search for the daughters of the dead high priestess and their warlock king.
