“You know about Kristine? Where is she?” No one says a word. We just stare at him. “Okay, I’ll do anything you ask, just please, tell me if you see that girl and my grandchild.”
“Why? So, you can abuse her some more? Sell her too?”
“No, I need an heir.”
Fucking great. Here’s another one of those.
“Well, she’s nowhere to be found so there’s that,” Dad says. “Now will you do it or not?
“I’ll do it.”
“Good. See, progress,” Dad says sarcastically. “And to think I was going to fucking squash you like a fucking bug, Matthews.”
“Yes, well, I don’t want to mess with you, John. What’s the second thing?”
It’s silent for a second. Dad glances at me. I understand the look before he says a thing. I’m not opposed to what he has in plan and honestly, good fucking riddance. He passes me a thick black envelope.
“Is it done?” I ask him. John and I sat down and had a little the second week I was in hospital.
Liam and Cole were not there when we discussed it all. At the time, it was under the assumption that I was going to get locked away, but now, after what Mia did, a new path has been carved.
“Yes, and before you ask, Courtney doesn’t know,” Dad says with a hard glint in his eyes.
“And the girl?”
“No, but her father agreed quite eagerly might I add.”
I glance at Liam seeing his puzzled look. He’s going to have to face his demons now.
“Good.” I glance down at the wording on the envelope with today’s date.
Fitzgerald – Bishop: Marriage Agreement
“Now boys, please excuse us,” Dad says seriously. “Mr. Matthews and I have some matters to discuss.”
Without a word, I make my way out the door.
“Fuck, we’re just going to leave?” Liam demands. “And what the hell is that?”
Cole and I look at each other, then I glance at my brother.
“You said I disappointed you by keeping shit from you, but I won’t ever apologize for protecting you,” I say, echoing something similar I once told him. “This is for you.”
He eyes the envelope for a second, then he looks up at me with a questioning gaze.
“Remember what Dad said before, Liam, there’s no turning back from what you’ll find in here,” I mutter. “And just so you know, it’s a done fucking deal.”
“What is it?”
“Your graduation gift.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
I can’t explain it all to him or even repeat the deal I’ve just consented to just now. All they need to know is, for their lives not to get as fucked up as mine, things are going to change. Most of all, for me anyway.
“It means I’ll give this to you after you graduate. Maybe even when you start college.”
He looks at with a suspicious gaze.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“That’s fucking bullshit!” he seethes.
“Yeah, well you’re just going to have to suck it up and walk it off. You’ll be fine.”
“Fuck you, J!”
I ignore him as I walk past him, with the envelope ticked under my arm. I mean, I could’ve had Dad keep this shit in his office. Liam wouldn’t have to see it but nah, the asshole flipped it on me when we arrived here. He needs to be taught a lesson.
We’re all going to transition somehow or World War Three is going to fucking break out and I can’t have that. Not when I almost lost everyone I care for. Including Liam.
“You’re just going to leave then?” Liam calls after me.
“Yes.”
“What the fuck, man?”
I ignore him.
“Come on, man,” Cole says with a. chuckle, trying to break the tension. “Patience is key.”
I don’t hear Liam’s response and soon, I’m out the house and in my car in short order. Glancing back, I see the one piece of luggage in there. The thing in my chest starts working double time all over again.
“This is it,” I mutter to myself.
I meant what I said.
I’m not marrying some Bishop twin. Liam is the one who’s going to get what he’s been begging for in mixed signals. Even if its fucking hate from both sides, it’s their nightmare now.
Mia is it for me.
I just need to go tell her that everything from this point on is going to be all right, but I can’t see her. Or talk to her. Not for a while.
I need to get everything sorted out and hold up my end of the deal I made with the devil I know.
My father might not be as bad as Courtney, but he’s still something to behold. I saw that in the way Lukas responded. So even thought I was his son, he’s going to demand I pay in full for what he’s doing for me and honestly, I don’t fucking care what happens to me anymore. It’s all about Mia for me.
Those fucking carts I had Cole and Liam give her—which she ignored like she did my feelings—were just to let her know what’s coming.
Headlines
It’s been a dramatic few weeks in Palos Verdes, Now, however, things are quieting down and not in the usual way you’d think, no. Everything is being hushed down like nothing ever happened.
There have been no updates on the Fitzgerald-Montague fiasco. The police have not given a statement regarding this scandal that took Palos Verdes by storm. Which is strange. Could it be that the wealthy can get out of anything? Or maybe the matter is being handled privately in the dark of their offices with cigar smoke and archaic family traditions?
Either way, there is one question we all want to know for sure. What happens now?
Who takes responsibility for the fire, the fake charges tainting Julian Fitzgerald’s name—that we can now confirm with validity were, in fact, falsified?
What of the remains of a three-month-old innocent baby, found in the ruins of the Matthews’ mansion. It’s clearly a murder, the police have admitted to it and yet, this story has no developments.
This writer has decided to rest this tumultuous story and wish all those that were affected—especially the only true victims recognized, Mia Montague and Julian Fitzgerald who will carry the scars and public criticism of this trauma for the rest of their lives—to them I say, Godspeed and good luck. You’ll both need it.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Mia
There’s something hypnotic and cruel about the passing of time that bothers me.
There are times when I really want time to slow down so I can savor the bright, beautiful moments where everything makes sense. The moments where I feel like I belong, where I feel like I might just make it to the other side.
But then there are these… taxing, unbearable slow passages of time so excruciating, you’d rather tear your own heart out than to endure a second longer of that hell.
That’s where I’m at now.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s been almost a month since the night Julian ripped apart my hospital gown and made me cum with his magical tongue and fingers right and I rejected him like the empty vessel made up of trauma and flimsy substance that I am, and in that time, I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve been… waiting.