Sure enough, Wolfe is on his stomach, being held down by Finn’s knee. There’s blood on his shirt and he’s wheezing.
“Don’t let them do this to me, Goldie. I’m your father.”
“No, you’re not.” I turn to Atticus. “Call Woodcutter.”
Wolfe’s eyes widen. “No! You little bitch. You think this is what your mother wanted?”
“Guess neither of us will ever know, since you didn’t want her back then, and I don’t want you now.”
His cries fill the room, but I don’t listen. Instead, I hand Atticus the box.
“These belong to you.”
Atticus opens the lid, and several emotions flicker across his face.
“Your mom would be proud of you for getting them back,” I whisper.
He smiles. “Maybe she had a hand in this. After all, it does feel like this was fate.”
I realize he’s right.
“I like that idea.” I glance at Wolfe. “Are you going to kill him?”
“Do you want us to?”
I nod. “Yes.”
I meant what I said—I don’t want him in my life. And the world will be safer without him in it.
“Then we stick to the plan.”
I smile up at Atticus. “As long as the three of you are at my side, I think I can do anything.”
And I mean it.
* * *
Two days later, Wolfe is killed, and his body is sent through Woodcutter’s wood chipper. Something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. I’ve had two days of bliss and pleasure with my guys, but everything changes when Oliver comes into the house, a folder in hand.
“Everyone needs to see this.”
He drops the folder on the table. Atticus reaches for it first. His eyes widen.
“Fuck. Are you sure, Oliver?”
“Yes.”
Atticus turns to me. “He left you everything.”
“What? Who did?”
“Wolfe. Had the papers drawn up a few years ago.”
Years? He knew where I was foryearsand didn’t try to find me? Why am I not surprised?
“You’re going to be a very rich woman,” Finn says. “Almost as rich as us.”
Oliver looks almost sad. “Which means you don’t have to stay with us if you don’t want.”