Page 41 of Bristol

“I’ll save you every day for the rest of my life, Bristol. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

Her head snaps up, her eyes locking on mine. Her eyes are wide and her brows are drawn, as if she’s processing whether or not she just heard what I said.

“I love you, Bristol. I think I have loved you from the first time I saw you standing in my clubhouse, a scared and broken mess.”

Tears flow faster down her cheeks now and she smiles at me, a real, genuine smile.

“I love you, too, Sebastian.”

I place my thumb on her chin and pull her lips to mine. Our kiss is wild. Messy. It’s all raw and tears and emotions meshing together. She wraps her arms around my neck and I cup her ass as her legs wrap around my waist. We make love and lay wrapped in each other’s arms for hours, ignoring the rest of the world.

When my phone finally rings for the fifth time in a row, I answer it with Bristol curled into my side.

“Hello?”

“Hello. I’m calling to try and get in touch with a Miss Bristol Tullier.”

Bristol’s head lifts and she eyes me with furrowed brows. She extends her hand and I oblige. She presses the speaker button, looking at me with a side-eye.

“This is she.”

“Miss Tullier. My name is Doc Evans. I’m a representative for your family’s estate. Your parents had a large life insurance policy and you and your brother were named beneficiary. That means that you are the sole beneficiary. We’ve been in contact with your local law enforcement and, after determining that the investigation on you has been closed, we can issue a payment.”

Bristol is silent, staring at the phone like it just sucker punched the air right from her lungs.

“Miss Tullier?” The man asks after about a minute of silence.

“I’m here,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We just need you to verify some of the information to confirm that it is really you, then an account and routing number for where you would like the payment issued to.”

He asks her for the address in which her family lived, her name and date of birth, the full names and dates of birth for every member of her immediate family, her social security number, and a few other details then asks for the bank account number once the verification was complete. She looks like a deer in the headlights.

“You can use mine,” I whisper.

She nods. I scramble to locate the numbers in the notes section of my phone.

“Hold please,” she says.

I point to the account that I haven’t used in the last few years. It’s got about a grand sitting in it, just to keep it active, but I don’t use it.

She reads off the account and routing number and the man on the other end repeats it back to insure it’s correct.

“Yes. That’s correct.”

“Okay. Let me just… there we go. A payment of nine-hundred eighty-nine thousand dollars has been issued. The bank will probably hold it and disperse it in increments. If you need anything or have any questions, please feel free to contact me at this number.”

“Uh—umm okay. Thank you.”

The call ends and she sits beside me, just staring at the phone. She doesn’t move. She just sits, mouth hanging slightly open and staring down at the Home Screen of my phone, which consists of random apps and a generic black background with an angry wolf on it.

“Bristol?”

She snaps her gaze up to meet mine.

“Did he just say nine hundred thousand dollars?”

I nod. “Yes. That is exactly what he said. Well. Nine hundred eighty-nine thousand.”

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