Page 18 of Cash's Treasure

She flashes me a shy smile before ending the call. I clean up before walking back to my desk.

I download all the materials I have been sent and print them so I have hard copies of everything. I read through her father’s will first. This is a public record, and I figure it was easy for Freddy to acquire. My jaw clenches as I read it, and it’s clear it’s been revised, perhaps when her evil stepmother came into the picture. True to her word, everything was left to Kayla’s stepfamily, and I read the bank records in amazement. In the span of a year, the family has managed to squander their substantial inheritance considerably. They were forced to sell all the cars and spent the savings to the last dime, and all they have now is the mansion.

With a heavy sigh, I push the will aside, choosing to focus on the mother Kayla lost when she was ten. The picture of her mom takes me aback at how similar to her daughter she looks, save for the dark hair.

My initial search online didn’t offer much about her, but the second I read up on the papers Freddy sent me, the more a clear picture begins to form in my mind.

No, Kayla’s father was not the wealthy one in the relationship. Her mother, it seems, was the one with all the money. The house and the cars are what her husband got when she passed away, and the man selfishly gave them to his new wife instead of his daughter.

The more I go through the documents I have no doubt Fred obtained illegally, the more the pieces of the puzzle slide into place.

All of Kayla’s mother’s wealth and assets were put in a trust for her daughter from the second the girl was born. No one other than Kayla can access her funds until she is twenty-two which happens to be a couple of months away.

Her stepfamily showing up now means they had no idea about this before, and now, they’re desperate to lure her back in.

I sit down for another half an hour, calculating her assets and just how much she’s worth. It’s considerable enough to draw these rats from the sewers, and there is no way in hell I am letting them get their dirty claws on Kayla.

They stole her inheritance from her father, and now they want to take this as well?

My fist clenches around the papers, and I recall how scared and alone Kayla had appeared when I first took her in. She spent three days in bed, refusing to touch her food, and it was not until I threatened to have her admitted to the hospital that she gave in, wolfing down the sandwich and milk I’d prepared for her.

She’s come a long way from that girl, and I will be damned if someone pushes her back to that dark place.

With renewed determination, I call the bar and have them ban the two men from coming anywhere close. It’s for their own good more than anything because the next time I see them, they’ll regret ever meeting me.

Kayla has me now to fight for her.

Chapter Eight

Kayla

The smell of bacon and eggs wakes me from a deep sleep. I reach out to touch Cash’s side of the bed, and I am not surprised to find it empty. I’m half convinced the man is a vampire or some other inhuman being because there is no way he survives on the little sleep he gets.

The fact that he always looks perfect every morning sells my theory on Cash being some sort of supernatural being. I, on the other hand, have the enthusiasm of a tortoise when I wake up. The bathroom mirror exposes my raccoon eyes and hair that looks like it’s been through the ringer.

I’m not much better after a shower, but at least I feel human as I follow the smell of breakfast to the kitchen.

I immediately spot Cash standing in the kitchen in only his jeans slung low on his waist, exposing his muscled back and an arm of tattoos. He turns around to look at me, his lips in a smile when my ghostly form flies past him.

“Good morning,” I mumble, heading straight to the coffee pot. I pour a cup, slowly feeling more human with every hit of caffeine.

“Feel better?” Cash says humoredly from my side, brushing my hair to the side before leaning down to kiss my neck. “I made breakfast.”

“I see that. I thought the kitchen was my thing,” I say, grabbing the plate he hands me.

“I can whip up breakfast for my girlfriend, thank you very much.”

Girlfriend?

The word gives me pause. Of course, Cash would call me his girlfriend. Perhaps he and I have been that for much longer than we thought. I guess everyone else saw it but me.

“Lana is never going to shut up about it if she hears me call you my boyfriend.”

His brows draw in confusion. “How come?”

I lift my fork and bite into the bacon fried to perfection. “She’s been calling you my boyfriend for weeks now, and I had the fight of my life trying to convince her that we were not dating.”

“Well, now we are, so you better claim it, or I am printing it on a paper and pasting it on every corner of that bar.”

---