“I’m good. You said it was important over the phone. I don't have long.” I don't mean to be a dick, but I’d really rather eat dairy without my lactose pills and be on the toilet all night, than be here in this office, going over my monster's last wishes.
“Of course, I'll get to it then. I met with Marshall Baros many times over the course of the last few months. He confided things that I am sure you don't want rehashed. He was of sane mindwhen he wrote his will. He was very clear that you were to have everything. No stipulations.”
My mouth pops open and I don't know what to say. I shake my head and laugh. It's dark, menacing, with no joy whatsoever. Timothy flinches.
That fucking asshole. I close my eyes and take some deep breaths. This isn't Timothy's fault. He gives me a minute to soak in the news before continuing.
“I just need you to sign some forms, and I have a few things about the estate to go over.”
I open my eyes and walk over to the chair he offered when I first arrived. My legs feel weak. My chest hurts, and I think I may pass out. I nod along to what he’s saying, but I’m not really here right now.
I’m stuck in a memory. It was the day my grandmother passed away. I was at her funeral whenhecame up to me and said that it was just the two of us left now. At that moment, I knew I had to run. I packed a bag that night, and after he passed out in his chair from too much whiskey, I walked out the front door and never looked back.
Timothy hands me a pen and I sign where it’s highlighted. I don’t want any of this, but right now, I can’t think straight. I need to get out of here.
“What time is it?” I ask him, standing quickly. “I have to go.” I grab the folders and the large envelope he gave me, then book it out of there. My chest aches and I can’t catch a full breath.
When I’m outside, I walk to the side of the building and down the alley, then sit and bring my knees up, wrapping my arms around them. The tears start, and I feel weak. I shouldn’t cry for that man. And in a way, I’m not. I am crying for my stolen innocence. For the life that I never got to have.
I was forced to grow up far too young, and I hate him for what he did to me. I wish I could bring him back just to killhim myself. He got off too easily. ‘Dying in his sleep, due to cancer complications’. He should have been chained to a bed and assaulted until he begged for death, like I did so many times.
He should have been terrified to shower, not knowing if someone would walk in and watch, or record him. He deserved to feel the shame, and be disgusted in his own skin. He was the one who should have lived in fear.
Not me. I was just a kid. Fate is cruel. I had a happy life, only to have it ripped away from me when I was forced to live with a monster, who was just waiting for the day he could trap me in his manor of hell.
My guts twist, so I turn and vomit all over the dank, smelly ground. I need to get out of here, but my body is frozen. I’m numb.
My watch vibrates, reminding me of my appointment with Robin.
Fuck! I'm late, and Cherry was supposed to meet me there. We were hoping to have her speak with Robin, but after today, I really need to talk to her.
Hopefully, the guys will understand. We can always try another day.
I stand up and walk to the truck. My legs are shaky, and I feel emotionally and mentally drained.
I could use a drink, or five, and a two-year nap.
Thankfully, Robin's office isn't far from here, and it only takes me five minutes to drive there.
I don't bother flirting with the secretary today as Rylee is waiting right by the door. She looks worried and has her phone in her hand.
“Hey, there you are… Is everything okay?” I shake my head, grab her hand and pull her into Robin's office.
She's there in her chair, reading a book when we enter. “Donny, glad you could make it. We were worried,” Robin says,standing, but I swing Rylee around and she plops onto the couch, then I start to pace.
This is the place to just open up and let everything out, but my mind and heart are racing, and I feel lost.
Robin sits back in the chair and lets me continue to walk back and forth. Rylee leans forward, and I know she wants to reach out to me, but if she touches me, I'm going to shatter. And I can't.
“Okay, obviously something happened today, but you're not ready to talk about it, so why don't we start with last night. Tell me what you did?”
I stop and look at her, trying to remember, but all I can think about ishishands on me, throwing me into that dark room with my cousin. His cruel laughter and the flashes of a camera.
I grip my hair and pull tight, then fall to my knees as I try to breathe. “I hate him. I fucking wished he would die. Every day. I wanted to sneak into his room and slit his throat, but I couldn't. He’d ruined my life enough. I couldn't risk being in another prison. I need air. Can’t breathe,” I gasp, clutching my chest.
I get to my feet and open the door. It slams against the wall, making some people in the waiting room jump as I rush outside, heading to the truck.
Rylee is behind me, yelling my name.
