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Swallowing hard, I ask, “What does it say?”
Turning to his computer, Mr. Marks taps a few keys, then makes a noise in his throat. “This lawyer was very thorough and the clear language used won’t allow for any misinterpretation. Here, it says, ‘In the event of my death, whether accidental, suspicious, or self-inflicted, my estate and all its contents will be passed on to my son, Damon Calvin Reed, upon the date of my death.Until he is twenty-five and his trust fund can be released, my estate will pay the property taxes, as there is no mortgage.’”
My head is spinning. What trust fund? “I don’t have a trust fund.”
Mr. Marks looks at me curiously. “Sure, you do. It’s in an LLC. The same one that paid out your college tuition.” When I’m silent and just stare at him, he sighs. “Wow, okay. Give me a day or two and I’ll have all the information for you. The attorney is supposed to contact you when you turn twenty-five and give you all this information. I’ll find out who the contact attorney is. I’ll also find out if your mother has anything else from her estate that belongs to you.”
I drive home in a daze. What just happened? All I wanted to do was stop James from trying to take my house. Not only do I find out that I was almost screwed over so bad that I would be poor in perpetuity, but I also find out my mother left me a trust fund that releases in a few short weeks, when I turn twenty-five. What? How?
The only reason I can think of for James not telling me is because he never found a way to steal it from me. He must have known that if I got my hands on any amount of money, I would leave. Even if I were as beat down and scared as I was just weeks ago, I would have tried to escape. If I had money, I would have left ages ago, but with James taking most of my money, it was hard to save up enough to leave the house even after I got a job at Velli Corp.
I think to pick up my phone to tell Michael, but I’d rather wait and tell him in person. I’m so done. I’m done with this family. I’m done being in this house. I’m only going back now so I can pack some things left from my mom and pretend like everything is okay. I know if I storm out, James will find a way to locate me, or he’ll send Conrad and Fallon. If I leave in the middle of the night, at least I’ll have a head start.
My passport hasn’t come in yet, but I can go anywhere in the country with Michael until it does. The money from the casino—which I haven’t touched—will be enough for us to live off if we have to hang around to wait for another passport. If I leave before it arrives at Velli Corp, I’ll need to get a new one elsewhere.
As is my habit, I slide in the house silently, something I’ve tried to do for years so I’m not attacked when I come in. Sometimes I get lucky, like today. I close the door quietly, flip the lock and walk on silent feet in the direction of my room.
I hear loud laughter and jeering from James’s office. Rolling my eyes, I keep going until I hear the name Brent.
Tiptoeing to the office, I find the door cracked. Pasting myself against the wall, I listen to what they’re saying, and I’m horrified.
Fallon’s voice booms out. “He went down hard. Conrad used the billy club you told us about.”
They start laughing again and it covers my gasp. Fallon and Conrad did that? This happened a week ago, why are they talking about it now? The only thing I can think of is they think it’s all blown over and they’re not suspected of anything.
They’re all idiots.
Thinking fast, I pull out my phone and start to record this interaction. I want to have proof for Michael of what was done to his brother. I know if I do this, he’ll make good on what he said about taking care of them.
“Good,” James says. “Give me details. I want to savor it.”
I double check that my phone is recording. Even if the house was empty, it’s foolish to ask for details on a crime. Especially one that’s so high profile. That’s all the news has been talking about. The security guard that was supposed to be guarding his hospital room leaked to the press that he overheard Brent say he would drop out of the race yesterday. That’s probably why James feels like he’s won.
As an attorney, I’m not sure why he’s asking about information on a crime. He should know better.
Shaking my head, I move a little closer to the door, hoping the phone’s microphone picks all this up clearly.
Conrad speaks up this time, laughter in his voice. Of course, the psychopath thinks this is all a joke. “He fell as soon as I hit him. Bitch didn’t even try to fight back, just curled in a ball. Shit was funny, because I was kicking his back while Fallon was kicking him in the chest and stomach. He had no way to escape.” They all erupt into laughter again.
“I wish we could have finished the job,” Fallon says with a bit of regret in his tone. “Fucking nosey people not minding their fucking business.”
James makes a noise likepsshand says to Fallon, “No, this was enough. Assault and murder are two different charges. You won’t be caught, but in any event, it’s harder to plead down for murder than it is for assault. Besides, I only wanted to send him a message. He should have heeded my letters.”
Conrad speaks with pride in his tone. “Yeah, well, we beat his ass good enough that he won’t want to testify if anything goes to trial. He’ll be too scared we’ll send someone to finish him off.”
“Man,” James says when they quiet. “I wish I could have seen that.”
“Gotcha, Pop,” Fallon says. “I recorded it. And don’t worry,” he rushes to say, “I didn’t upload it to my cloud, and you can’t tell who it is. He had his hands over his head for the part I recorded. I wanted to give you a gift of the night you secured your seat in the senate.”
“Thanks, son,” James says gruffly, like Fallon just gave him the key to the city. I almost scoff aloud.
Conrad speaks up. “I think the ass whooping we laid on him will have him afraid to run for office ever again. You’re in the clear, Dad. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, boys,” James replies.
I record a bit more, though they aren’t saying much of anything. I hear commotion, and muffled thumps, shouts, and screams, and assume they’re all watching the video.
Disgusted, I sneak away, slipping into my room. Hands shaking, I stop the recording, turn my phone volume down, then play it back. I hear everything. It’s not super loud, but it’s clear.
