“She said she needs a minute,” I hear Beretta say.
“Uh-huh, yeah. Down, boy. That’s my sister,” Monti snaps. “I think I know what she needs.”
“And I know what she likes,” he fires back. “And one thing she likes is to be left alone when she asks.”
Ransom’s hand falls on my back and I straighten, shifting slightly to lean my left shoulder against his chest. My head tips, my temple resting at his chin. I close my eyes, but they open when feet pad closer.
Wide-eyed, Monti joins us on the balcony, crossing her arms as the ocean chill reaches her skin. “What am I missing?” she asks, shaking her head. “Jameson, what the hell just happened?” There’s no anger in her tone, only confusion and shock, both understandable.
I feel the same, but not in the same context.
Confused about what to do now.
Shocked at how quickly things have happened.
Last night, something was keeping me awake and I knew exactly what it was, just as I knew my mom never did anything without a reason. My gut told me her leaving the little box on my nightstand was no different; she wanted me to open it.
I was forced to face how sensitive time truly is earlier that morning, so I took no chances.
I opened the lockbox and sat awake for several hours, reading over as many of the documents tucked inside it as I could, trying to make sense of what I was looking at. Once I got to the final document, I woke up the boys.
Everything clicked, and I had to decide where to go from there.
In the end, and with Ransom in my corner, there was only one direction that would do. I think my mom knew it as well as I did, and I would bet it’s why she gave it to me in the first place.
Whether she liked it or not, my mom saw the fight blooming in me that only comes along with having someone to fight for. For the first time, she wasn’t selfish and allowed me to be.
But in true Filano fashion, not without a lesson in strength.
She gave me all I needed, the gun and the bullets, but at the end of the day, I had to be the one to pull the trigger, to take what I want, and pave my own path.
To fight for the future that I desire… the one I deserve.
Not the one she arranged, or the one Monti bailed on, but the ending meant to be mine with the person made for me.
Nothing else mattered anymore, not what my mom had to offer or the money she held over my head. It meant nothing without Ransom, so I made my choice, and it was an easy, clear one.
There was no hesitation and I aimed for the head.
I turned my mother in without a second thought, using information she provided me with. Anonymously.
I have to admit, I didn’t anticipate such a quick response, but I guess it’s considered high priority when accusations claiming the woman who represents the largest crime ring in the Florida area is as dirty as her client list begins to surface.
So what the hell happened?
I took control.
I reclaimed my life.
I let love in.
I let love win.
I look to Monti. “Her choices determined her consequences.”
Monti blinks, and blinks again. “I don’t understand.”
“The box, Monti. You’re the one who gave me the key, told me there was a gift inside. You knew what she had to hide.”
“Yeah.” She nods, incredulously. “The deed to this house, Dad’s will, checks and bonds dated with our eighteenth birthdays.”
I push off Ransom. “Wait, what?”
“I had to wait for your birthday to tell you in case she tried to pull something crazy while you were still a minor. I was trying to be cautious.”
“Monti, what are you talking about?”
She nods, spinning around, and slowly, we follow her into the house.
Spotting her keys, she darts toward them, but Arsen slips in first, snagging them off the table.
She tugs her head back. “Excuse you?”
“Where you trying to go?” Beretta joins him.
She scoffs, crosses her arms and turns to me.
When I don’t speak, her mouth gapes. “J...”
I’m on edge, more so than ever considering, and trust isn’t exactly a thing right now, so we have to ask.
“Where are you going, Monti?”
“My car.” She laughs. “What, you think I have a reason to run? Please.” She rolls her eyes, laughing again when none of us move. “Okay, wow. Talk about an alpha and her pack.”
“Monti.”
She sighs. “I stole everything that was inside the box when Mom walked you to the car at the memorial park, Jameson. Stuffed it down my pants, in fact, and hid it under the hood of my car when we got home. I left it empty.”
All at once, we move toward the door.
“Wait, seriously? Hello!” she snaps, but eventually falls in line.
Arsen unlocks the doors, and Beretta pops the hood.
I grab the Ziplock bag full of folded papers.
“We should go in, the neighbors are probably watching,” Monti says.
“She’s right.” Ransom grabs my hand, and we all slip back into the house.
As I open the paperwork, laying it out on the table, Monti points to the top one.
“This is his will, he left everything to us. He had moved the money into trusts months before... you know. And this” —she pulls a pink envelope from the center slapping it on top— “this is the deed to the house.”
My eyes snap up to hers and a sad smile pulls at her lips. “It’s in our names, J. That’s why mom couldn’t sell, that’s why it’s been sitting here, waiting for us. It’s ours.”
It’s ours...
“I called one of Dad’s lawyers on this paper, just to see if it was legit, and he said Mom never tried to take any of it. She told him that we’d come to claim what was ours when we were older.” She frowns. “She never told us about it because she knew with all he’s given us, we could walk away from what she was asking us to do, not needing her. And we don’t need her, J. Not to help us get a start in life anyway.”
I spin, my mind running as I process everything she’s telling me, the paperwork in front of me.
More bombs and hidden secrets.
My mom needed us to do what she asked, to carry on her name and so the events of today could be avoided, but she never cared for us to need her.
She would never cut us off. She cared about image too much for that. Sure, she stopped ‘dealing’ with Monti after Monti refused to be a pawn, never cared to call her personally unless it was in search of me, but her cards were never deactivated, and the bills kept getting paid.
No, this is deeper, a safety net set in place decades ago.
She knew where her career was headed.
A low laugh escapes as it hits me and I fall into the chair. Dropping my head back, I stare at the ceiling.
“She did all this because she needed a leg up. It’s how she’ll blindside everyone the minute they think they’ve got her, and she will wait until that very last second, let them nearly celebrate, and then, bam. Knock them on their ass.” It’s her specialty.
My god, Mother, you’re an evil fucking genius.
I tap my fingers against the wooden tabletop, my eyes popping up to Ransom, to Beretta and Arsen, but they settle on my sister.
“What is it?” Monti lowers into the chair beside me.