Page 91 of Addicted

“Of course. But it doesn’t hurt to have a second pair of eyes on things, right?” Sliding everything back into the envelope, Owen put his arm around Liam’s shoulders, steering him toward the kitchen. “Would you like some tea? Breakfast?”

“Tea please, and oatmeal.” Liam sat at the kitchen table, his hazel gaze still doubtful. “It’s been years though. What are you hoping to find?”

Filling the kettle at the sink, Owen shrugged. “Anything that can help, I guess. You said that there was a bank account that Laurence never found so…something along those lines.”

“Ah,” Liam nodded, a scowl whispering across his face. “I have to call Aunt Diane. She’s in town and wants to meet up at the bank soon.”

Owen didn’t like that. He needed more time, more proof, and there was no way he was going to let Liam meet Diane and her sketchy lawyer boyfriend so Liam could sign off on a bank account. Liam was still fragile, building a new life with walls that had yet to firm up, and he needed protection, especially from people who raised Owen’s hackles.

“Do you have any more paperwork in those boxes?” Owen tried to sound casual as he placed a bowl of apple cinnamon oatmeal and a cup of tea in front of Liam.

Liam looked down at the bowl and then up at Owen, not moving. “No, it was all in that one envelope. I remember Laurence handing it to me but…”

“But…” Owen prodded, leaning in.

“Mom always told me to take a photo of anything I signed. Laurence got angry the first time I did that, said I needed to trust him.” Liam picked up his spoon, fiddling with it. “But I trusted Mom way more. So, whenever they went to sleep, I’d sneak downstairs and take pictures of whatever I could. I had to break into Laurence’s briefcase once.”

Owen’s stomach roiled, his hunches gaining strength. So much of what Liam told him set off alarm bells and he tried to resurrect his poker face as he asked. “Do you still have them?”

“The pictures? Yes, they’re in a folder on my phone.” Liam looked up, spearing Owen with a hazel gaze full of uncertainty. “Owen, why are you asking me this?”

“Because…” Owen swallowed. Liam deserved the truth but it was tearing out his heart to reveal it. “I think your aunt lied to you.”

“Owen! It’s great seeing you again. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.” Freddy hugged him with a few claps to the back and then gestured toward the conference table. “Take a seat anywhere. And you must be Liam?”

He held out his hand and Liam wiped his palm on his slacks before returning Freddy’s handshake. He was too anxious and distraught to say anything so Owen wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding them to a set of chairs opposite an older woman wearing a smart pantsuit and couture necklace. Her deep brown eyes were sharp, discerning, and the set of her shoulders told Owen that she was not to be fucked with. He liked her immediately.

“This is Ms. Maya Chauhan, the estate attorney I spoke to you about.” Freddy took the seat next to her and she nodded at Owen and Liam, the hint of a warm smile flitting across her face.

“Nice to meet you both.” She folded her hands on the table. “Mr. Caldwell has briefed me on the situation. Did you bring the documents with you?”

“We did.” Owen passed her the envelope full of paperwork, including the printed photos from Liam’s phone. She spread them out on the table, examining them as moments passed in tense silence. Liam’s breathing sped up and Owen took his hand, twining their fingers together, trying to emote calm even though he knew what was coming. Freddy divided his attention, studying the papers while occasionally looking up at them with a reassuring smile.

“Attorney Laurence Barton prepared all this?” Her voice was smooth but Owen could feel Liam jump.

“Y-Yes.”

“And you were eighteen when you signed this paperwork?”

“Yes,” Liam nodded, squeezing Owen’s hand for all he was worth.

More time passed and Owen watched as Ms. Chauhan’s demeanor changed, a frown appearing on her face, which became deeper with every passing minute.

After what seemed like a lifetime, she cleared her throat, gathering a few pages from the table.

“From what I can discern, your aunt - Ms. Harris - had you sign this.” She handed one of the documents to Liam and he looked it over with wide eyes. “Which made Laurence the executor of your parents’ estate. An executor is responsible for carrying out the will of the deceased, including distributing assets to the beneficiaries, which would be you. And you did receive that money.” She laid a few more papers on the table, tapping them with a manicured nail. “Here, here, and here. You were given life insurance payments, there were savings accounts, as well as some investments. They did everything properly for probate but there was an additional step.” She pulled out some of the photos, her face dark with anger. “They funneled the money through you, to themselves.”

“B-But,” Liam’s eyes were watery. Owen could tell he was trying hard to hold it together. “They told me that the hospital bills were too much and I had to sell the house. Was that a lie?”

“Your parents’ care did pull some funding from their estate; however, it seems that there was more than enough for you to stay there before the bulk of that money was moved into your aunt’s account.”

“Then the house was just a bonus to them.” Tears started to roll down Liam’s cheeks and Owen pulled him close, letting Liam bury his face in his neck.

When Owen revealed his allegations, Liam hadn’t taken it well. Shock had come first, then dismay, and finally Liam sank into depression as Owen looked at the paperwork photos and confirmed that his hunches had been right. Thankfully, Liam didn’t spiral too deeply due to the coping mechanisms he’d learned in rehab and he tapped into them, visiting his therapist for an emergency session. While she had talked him through his panic, Owen contacted Freddy, who’d called in some favors and got them an appointment the following afternoon.

Owen wished he hadn’t been observant. That the red flags in his mind hadn’t been so insistent. He’d caused Liam more strife, and could barely bottle his own rage. It had been simmering beneath the surface for the last day, coming to a boil once his suspicions were confirmed, making him want to rip the conference table in half.

Diane and Laurence had stolen from the man he loved. They’d taken advantage of a grieving teenager, tricked him into signing everything over to them, stripped him of his childhood home, and left him with close to nothing. Their actions forced Liam to live in squalor, with a pittance of savings, unable to afford help while cut off from anyone who wanted to reach out. It was why Diane had given Owen the wrong address, to keep anyone from looking too closely and figuring out the horrible things they’d done.

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