Page 13 of Come Back for Me
No, but something else could—the possibility of more.
“Then why don’tyouwant to be here?” I challenge. “We both know why, and it has nothing to do with our father.”
It’s a beautiful blonde who stood at my father’s grave and then left before he could even speak to her.
“Fuck off, Connor.”
“You fuck off, Dec. You want me to be here, dealing with it all, when you’re unwilling to do the same damn thing?”
“Once we sell the farm, none of us have to ever be here again,” Sean tries to mediate the situation. “It makes sense, Connor. If you stay, you can work on cleaning up the farm, you have no plans, while Jacob has to get back to Hollywood, Declan needs to get back to New York, and I’m in the middle of spring training and have to return to Tampa to meet with the team.”
If I weren’t so angry that they were making sense, I would keep fighting. But they’re right. I have nothing to rush back to once I sign my discharge papers.
“Let’s sell it and get whatever we can,” I suggest.
Sean shakes his head. “No. This is all we get, and there’s no way the four of us should unload it for the sake of unloading it. Not when one of us has time and is more than capable of getting it to the point where we can make double. We’re not talking chump change, Connor. We’re talking about millions.”
I groan and rub the back of my neck. “I’m not agreeing to this.”
Declan shrugs as though he has not a care in the world. “I’m not worried. He’ll see that we’re right.”
“Or a bunch of assholes.”
Sean grins. “We already know that.”
“We meet with the lawyer tomorrow.” Declan’s voice is firm and authoritative, which makes me want to punch him in the throat. “After that, we’ll decide what we’re doing. For now, let’s let Connor stew while we all drink.”
I flip them off, hating that my brothers think they know me so well. Jokes on them because my mind isn’t completely on the farm, a small part of it is on the woman and her little girl next door.
* * *
“What the fuck do you mean there’s a stipulation?” Declan’s voice rises even louder as he stares at the lawyer.
The short, pudgy lawyer dabs his bald head with a handkerchief. I love it when my brothers and I make people sweat. “It is very clear. Basically, the will states that in order for his children, Declan, Sean, Jacob, and Connor to inherit the Arrowood farm, they must each live there for a period of six months. Once that time has been fulfilled by each of his children, whether it’s all at once or successional, then they will become the full owners with the authority to sell.”
Sean laughs without any humor. “Motherfucking asshole is controlling us from the grave!”
“This is bullshit. There has to be a loophole.” Declan says as he gets to his feet, his anger is palpable.
The lawyer shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. He was very . . . specific. If you all fail to agree, the farm will be sold and the proceeds will be donated to the foundation to help prevent child abuse.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” I say before I can stop myself. “The man who beat all four of his children regularly wants to donate a possible ten million dollars to prevent what he inflicted on his own kids?”
Jacob puts his hand on my arm. “He will not win.”
“He wins no matter what!” I scream. “If we live on that godforsaken farm, we’re doing his bidding. If we all walk away, then all the money that we’re owed—and don’t tell me we’re not owed anything after the hell that man put us through—goes to charity!”
I can’t think straight. Anger and revulsion pulses through me with each beat of my heart. Of all the things I expected when we walked into this office, being dealt a fucked-up ultimatum wasn’t one of them. I didn’t think I’d be forced to live in the one place I never wanted to return to for six months.
“He thinks we won’t stay.” One of my brothers pipes up.
“I’m not staying. Not now. Not this way. I refuse to do this. Hell, give it to charity because those kids might actually have a chance that we didn’t.”
Sean stands and starts to pace. “What happens if one brother refuses?”
The lawyer clears his throat. “Then you all lose it.”
I throw my hands up, wanting to punch something, and then hate myself for even the thought of it. I have never raised my fists in anger. I’ve fought, sure, but it was in self-defense or because I had no choice. The vow the four of us made means everything to me, and I will never hurt another person physically because I can’t control myself.
