Page 7 of Whiskey's Redemption

“Powder Kings.”

“Hey man, it’s Whiskey. I got into a fender bender with a ladybug so I’m gonna be a few minutes late.” Staring down at the little girl behind the wheel, she scrambles through paperwork as the phone falls from her ear. Bending to pick it back up, I watch her blunder through the conversation while trying to explain something.

“Yeah. I’m gonna be here for at least another hour,” Gruber states.

“Cool. I’ll get out there as soon as I can. I’m just a few streets away, and it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

“No worries. See you soon.” With Gruber hanging up, I pocket my phone.

Looking down on the driver, I tap the kid’s window again as I see she has herself straightened out and her phone set down. Hopefully, this means the little shit will come out to talk to me.

Rolling her window down a smidgen, she leans forward. “Um, excuse me?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you Jamieson Crown, the snowboard racer?” A cute grin crosses her face and she lights up slightly. Not unusual, I get it all the time.

“Yeah, I’m Jamieson.”

Smiling brightly, she rolls the window down a touch more and passes an envelope out. I take it in hand, wondering what’s going on.

“You’ve been served.”

Whipping up the window fast, she slams the car in reverse and takes off into the oncoming traffic we’d just left. Before I even know what’s happened, I’m standing in the street with a fucking subpoena. I’m sure I know what it’s for, but I’m too damn curious not to look.

To Jamieson Harris Crown.

With the untimely death of one Jaxson Crown and one Marca Crown, the reading of your father’s will was postponed until the outcome of your brother and co-heir, a one Wyatt Crown, was finalized. Now that Mr. Crown has awoken, we will commence with the reading and decisions of the will on…

Zoning out to the details of the remainder of the letter, it seems I have no choice but to attend the bullshit meeting. The worst part of it is, that they want to schedule it for the day of our sister China’s court case. She won’t be able to attend, and I promised her that I’d be there to support her at court. Now, not only do I have to stand her up, but I have to go to the reading of the will without Wyatt. He’s in no shape to leave his bed, let alone the hospital.

I scrunch up the letter and toss it in the backseat of my rental. Every nerve I own has been fucking set alight today. I want to tear down the world and everything in it to just be left alone, but no. Not one of these fuckers will leave me be.

“So much fun being back in Cali,” I mutter, starting off. Gruber better have good news for me because my shit meter is fucking full, and I’m about to take it out on someone.

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