I ignored her statement.
“What’s the settlement?”
My mom took another gulp of her vodka before rolling her eyes. “You are.”
I shook my head, anger rolling in quickly. “Why when I’m eighteen? What’s the significance of me turning eighteen?”
My mom stared at me, evil lurking in her eye. It made my stomach hurt the longer we held each other's stare. How did she become this woman? My mother was never a good mother. She wasn’t attentive. She hated giving me attention when I was little. She sent me to my room more times than I cared to remember, but how did she end up like this? CPS took me away soon after she began to wither away into nothing, but as I stared at the woman in front of me, I couldn’t even see a tiny sliver of the woman I used to call mom.
“A trust fund.”
My head jerked. “What?”
She sniffed. “Your father set up a trust fund for you. When you turn eighteen, you get it. He wrote it in his will before he was murdered.” She laughed sarcastically. “You got a trust fund, and I got nothing. The dumb bastard didn’t care what happened to me. Only you.”
My voice was near breaking. “I thought all of his assets were frozen because of the laundering.”
She shrugged, glancing at the necklace I had laid on the table. “Your father had a way around some things. He was smart in some senses.”
“So, they want my trust fund so they can technically be paid back what he lost?”
A small amount of comfort washed over me. I’d gladly give them the money in exchange for my freedom. They could have every penny! I would willingly hand it over. They didn’t have to kidnap me!
I had nothing left to say to my mother, and I had no time to waste. I came for information, and I got it. She could have the locket and pawn it for drug money. Or maybe she wanted to buy a few more of those cheap plastic vodka bottles. I didn’t care. I got what I came for.
“Let’s go.” I grabbed onto Eric’s arm, and we walked over to the door. As soon as I let some sunlight in, my mother chimed from behind. “They’ll keep the money and you…just so you know. Your father fucked us both over.”
My heart dropped slightly, but I refused to believe her words, even though, deep down, I knew they were true.
Eric’s arm dropped from my grasp as he turned around and stalked back through the trailer. “Eric, what are you doing?”
I watched as he ripped my locket off the table, and as he leveled my mom with an enervating stare. “You don’t fucking deserve this. And you know it.”
To my surprise, my mom didn’t say a word as Eric tore past me. I jumped at the sound of the door slamming behind me. “You’re right. Christian would have lost his shit in there.”
I nodded as my shaky legs climbed down the wooden steps after him.
Eric was rushing so fast to get back to his Range Rover, still clutching my locket in his hand. As soon as we climbed inside, he handed it to me and said, “He knows.”
My head snapped over to him as I held the chain of my locket in my hand. “What?”
His Range Rover purred to life. “He knows, and he's pissed.”
Great.
Chapter Forty
Christian
I stood with my back against the side of my Charger, waiting. I was fuming, livid. My arms were crossed over my school tie, and my knuckles itched to punch something to release the anger.
When Headmaster Walton called me down to the office to let me know Eric would likely be running late for practice and for me to inform Coach that it was fine, I was confused. Then, when he told me why Eric was running late, I almost snapped Headmaster Walton’s desk in half.
I was impressed that I kept it together while in his office. My face stayed calm and collected, but on the inside, I was all but frantic.
Where are they? Why did she ask Eric to take her home? She isn’t sick. What the fuck is going on?
My hand shook as I tried calling Eric again. He wouldn’t answer. All I got, thirty minutes ago, was a text that read, She’s fine. We are on our way back.