Page 57 of The Truths We Seek

It occurs to me that I’ve been here for a year.

Well, not living here, but in this city. I didn’t do the whole Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas thing last year… or for the last however many years since I ran from Trent, honestly. I don’t remember what was even happening with me during that insanity last year.

Was I at the house? Did they just not celebrate?

Do they not celebrate?

I realize I missed my last birthday too… and I haven’t heard them talk about theirs either. Did I just completely miss it all being that wrapped up in my own bullshit, or did they just not make a fuss?

Chewing on my lip, picking at my nails, I try to scour my memory for this time last year, but it’s like it’s fuzzy. Which doesn’t make any sense to me, but it’s like the details, other than the giant steaming moments of fuck up, are just… foggy.

A round of cheers goes up, startling me from my thoughts. They’re all on their feet, high fiving, having a total “bro moment”, and I realize their team won. Which team that is is beyond me, the guys on the screen were in red, others in black looking like pirates, beyond that, I’m lost.

Bruno, Tonio, O’Connor, and Hunter leave the room still talking about the game—I think. They’re talking about downs; I can only assume that’s something to do with the game—leaving me with Rory and Meyer.

Rory’s phone rings and he glares at it as he pulls it from his pocket. “Fucking Elise,” he grumbles before standing and leaving the room.

Who the fuck is Elise?

“She runs one of the clubs,” Meyer explains, obviously seeing the confusion on my face. “So, did you want to ask questions now? Or talk about the letter? Or did you want to sleep on it?”

I pull my feet from under my ass where I’ve been sitting on them and pull my knees up in front of my chest, resting my chin on them. “The letter… did you get one too?”

“I did,” he replies softly, nodding. The light in his eyes dims a little. “He said you’d likely have questions. He knew you well.”

“He really did.” The words come out croaky as I play over the letter in my head. I reread it enough times that I’ve practically memorized it. “He called me an infection.”

Meyer bursts out laughing at the admission and I smile too, because Tommy really did have a way with words. “Jeez, old man. So eloquent.”

“Wasn’t he?” I say with a smile. “But he said something about a will, that you’d explain, but I thought your mom was handling that.”

His laughter ends and he smiles at me. “She was, but only because she wanted to. It was supposed to be me, he left me as his power of attorney and estate manager, or whatever bullshit you want to call it.”

I shrug, a little confused. “I don’t know what most of that means, but okay.”

“It’s just a fancy way of saying he wanted me to deal with all the legal stuff. He left some stuff to my mom… they’ve been friends a long time; a few things to me and the guys; but mostly, he left everything to you.”

I blink at Meyer, trying to process what he just said. “He did what?”

“Tommy was a clever man. Frugal is an understatement, but he was very smart with his finances. He had more than even I realized. And he left it all to you. I can go get all of the paperwork if you want the specifics right now, but he left you money, stocks, shares, and a whole portfolio of property. Including a few businesses, totally legit, that I had no clue about either. They run themselves, have a full staff and management structure in place, Tommy was just the guy behind the scenes, but now they’re yours.”

“I don’t understand…” I trail off, shock flitting through me.

Why would he leave it all to me? I didn’t even know he had stuff to leave.

“He loved you,” Meyer says simply, like that makes sense of it all. “He didn’t have much family left anymore. Not after what happened. You, me, the guys, Mama, we were his family, but you? You meant a lot to him and he wanted to make sure you’d be okay, even once he was gone.”

Tears prick at my eyes as my throat constricts and my chest feels like someones hit me with a sledgehammer. “But he’s only gone because of me.”

“No,” Meyer says sternly, shaking his head. “He’s gone because of Trent. Because of me if we want to get technical about it. My people let us down and Trent got to Tommy, but it’s not because of you.”

“It doesn’t matter how we frame it. Trent wouldn’t have been around if it wasn’t for me.” I try to clear my throat so I can speak up. “But if the blame isn’t on me, then it’s not on you either. And what do you mean your people?”

He lets out a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “We had a leak, someone Trent got to. I don’t know all the details yet but we’re working on it. Regardless of fault, Tommy was a big boy, he made his own decisions, he’d say that his death was his own fault for being too old, too slow, whatever shit he’d come out with, but he’d also say that he never regretted a decision when it came to you, so he’d own that shit too.”

I swipe away a tear that slips down my face with the cuff of my hoodie. He’s right and I know it, but I keep bouncing between acceptance and guilt.

“Grief is such a bitch,” I say, half laughing.

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