Page 50 of Haze's Jewel

I really should be sadder that Trevor was dead. I wasn’t though, particularly after hearing him trying to get Greg to let him and their hit man, rape and torture me. Yeah, fuck Trevor. He really was a pathetic waste of a human being.

Watching Rage tend to Greg while still muttering complaints under his breath made me wonder why he tracked me down, was it really just for more money? Curious, I couldn’t help but ask, “How much money would it take for you to be truly satisfied, Greg? How much before you could leave me alone with whatever dad left for me?”

“You don’t fucking need money. You don’t value it, or know how to invest it, or even understand simple shit like compound interest. You were meant to be a working-class person. That’s why you were going to college, remember? To spend the rest of your life working for minimum wage.”

Haze reaches out and slaps him across the face. “Stop fucking being disrespectful to your sister, you asshole.”

Greg spits a mouthful of blood in Haze’s direction. “Stepsister, you fucking crazy biker. Your boss said you couldn’t lay a hand on me. I’m gonna tell him what you just did.”

Haze reaches out to slap him again, but I grab his arm. “Leave him be. I want answers to our questions more than I want you to slap him senseless.”

Rage doesn’t miss a beat. He just keeps on tending to Greg’s wounds while muttering under his breath. “Can’t believe this crazy fucker thinks Siege cares whether you tune him, Haze.” Glancing up at my overprotective boyfriend, Rage almost smiles before looking back to Greg. “Our president said we had to keep you alive. We can hit you and torture you all we want. Lucky for you, I’m not into that shit.”

Greg rolls his eyes, “Yeah, lucky me.”

“What’s taking so long with probate, Greg? Surely you could get your money, even if I wasn’t there to cash in the insurance policy.”

“It’s fucking cute you think there’s an inheritance. Mom and Dad just spent the last fifteen years blowing money like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Don’t try to lie to me, Greg. I know my father was a wealthy man. You were the one running through money like there’s no tomorrow.”

“And why shouldn’t I? They were spending my inheritance at the speed of light. If I wanted any, I had to spend it right alongside them.”

“I still don’t believe what you’re saying. My dad’s law firm was paying him long after he took early retirement. He was the founding partner for crying out loud, so he had a share in the profits.”

“You don’t get it, Annalese. The partners all starting retiring, and the new partners couldn’t manage to turn a profit. There were too many new offices going up in the area. People were spoilt for choice. So Dad was spending his savings to keep up the appearance that everything was fine for my mom.”

“Now, I can actually see that happening. He always put her first, before you and me. She was younger than my mother and loved nice things.”

“The old man knew she didn’t have much time left on this earth and decided to spend his personal fortune making her last few years a never-ending fantasy of wealth and prestige.” Greg spits out. He groans when Rage wraps bandages tightly around his torso.

“You’ve got a couple of broken ribs,” Rage states roughly.

Tracker turns around and speaks to us over his shoulder. “I’m sure Siege can get Smoke to hire a forensic accountant to verify if any of that is true.”

“It’s fucking true. About a week after the funeral, I finally went back home to clear out their belongings and found a note. It was from Dad saying that Mom had a very aggressive form of cancer and instead of waiting until she was weak and in pain, they decided to take one final drive together.”

My hand flies to my mouth as the realization of what he’s saying sinks in. My stepmother was dying, my father was getting older himself but still had a few good years left in him. Yet they decided to end their lives together on their own terms. A suicide pact.

“So, the money that Anna was due from your father’s life insurance policy was the only real inheritance?” Haze asks.

Greg nods.

“Though if they found out your father committed suicide then you’d not get a dime,” Haze adds.

“The coroner ruled their deaths an accident.”

“I’m sorry, Greg. I didn’t know anything about your mother being sick or them having money problems.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter now. Your biker blew Trevor’s head off, and I’m a dead man walking.”

***

A long silence spins out in the back of the van as we make our way back to Las Salinas, and I turn the situation over in my mind. The realization that my stepbrother would have gladly killed me for the money. Hate is a strong emotion, but that is certainly what I was feeling for him right now.

My heart broke for my father. Even though he stopped loving my mother when he met Andrea, and his cheating tore our family apart, she must have truly been the love of his life. I find myself conflicted about the situation. On the one hand I hated that he threw me and my mom away and allowed Andrea’s jealousy to keep him from supporting us financially the way he should have. It was hard growing up broke, while watching Greg get everything he ever wanted.

Yet, I wouldn’t have wanted him to do without his true love. Me and my mom made it through somehow. Struggling together brought us closer.

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