Blue-Collar Billionaires: The Complete Series, page 84
The idea of other Marshall relatives coming out of the woodwork at this point is so absurd that I have the insane urge to start laughing. If I have any other siblings out there, they’d do best to stay away from me. If Max had done that he might still be alive.
The limo glides to a stop in front of West Haven’s only funeral home.
“I’m surprised Max wanted to be buried here instead of at home.”
“Actually, this is just the memorial service. His body is being flown back to Ireland to be buried in the family plot tomorrow.”
Seven squeezes my hand and I squeeze back, hoping that I can convey how grateful I am that she’s here. If she wasn’t holding me together I think I would have been shredded by guilt by now and I’d just blow away in a million little pieces.
We file into the funeral home and Tank greets us at the door. My head is a blur as I shake hands with so many people, none of whom I will remember later. We follow Gabe and Sasha up front and sit in the front row. Zack and Josie are already there. Sitting in the row behind us, I see Claire, Tank and Finn’s mom.
Carol, the assistant I hacked all those weeks ago, taps on the microphone set up in front of the casket.
“Hello. My name is Carol Ryan.” She glances down at the little scrap of paper in her hand. “I first met Max Marshall when I was a twenty-two-year-old waitress at an Irish pub in Boston. My parents had kicked me out and I was on my own for the first time. Max gave me a job. He took care of me then and I’ve been taking care of him ever since. He was more than just an employer. He was a friend.”
She stops to collect herself. After a few deep breaths, she motions behind her at the closed casket. “Max wasn’t one for making a fuss so he left explicit instructions that there aren’t to be any tears. Just reflections on a life well lived.”
She sits and someone else I don’t recognize gets up and reads a poem. Then a trio sings a sad lament in Gaelic that brings a lump to my throat even if I don’t understand a word of it. When the last mournful note trails off, people stand and start leaving.
I stand, content to just follow the flow of traffic when Tank leans over his seat and tugs my arm.
“Luke, come on. Max’s lawyer has something for us.”
“I’ll wait for you here.” Seven kisses me on the cheek and then goes to stand with Sasha, Josie and Emma.
Tank leads us into a room off the back. An older man meets us at the door and motions for us to come inside. He seems very somber and I wonder if it’s just because of the occasion or if he and Max were actually friends. I’ve never met this particular lawyer before but that’s not surprising. I’m pretty sure Max has always employed a team of them for his many interests.
He motions for us to sit in the chairs in front of the desk. There isn’t enough room so Tank and I lean against the wall near the door.
“Thank you for coming. I’m Harold Levitt. Mr. Marshall left explicit instructions for how he wanted his will to be read. So I’ll just proceed.”
Finn leans forward. “He told us he distributed his estate early. I assumed that we’d already received our inheritance.”
Mr. Levitt places a pair of wire frames on his face. “He distributed a portion of his estate earlier this year, that’s true. However, he has bequeathed an additional sum to each of you.”
He clears his throat and begins to read.
I, Maxwell Marshall, direct my executors to pay all estate and inheritance taxes. I give all my tangible personal property to my sons, Tanner, Finnigan, Gabriel, Zachary and Lucas subject to the following conditions …
It all sounds like a lot of legalese to me but halfway through Tank starts chuckling. Gabe follows suit and then Zack. Finn just smiles with a hand over his mouth.
“Why are you all laughing?” I ask, shocked that they would be this disrespectful while our father’s will is being read.
Mr. Levitt doesn’t seem at all concerned and in fact when he lowers the paper he’s been reading from, I see he’s smiling as well.
Tank looks over at me. “Even in death, Max can’t resist having the last laugh. He’s put conditions on us receiving the remainder of his money. Just like last time. The cranky old bastard wants us all to get married and have kids before we inherit the rest.”
Finn shakes his head. “I bet he had a grand time coming up with this idea. It’s almost like he’s still here.”
Mr. Levitt puts down the document he’s been reading from. “This is the part where I’ve been instructed to stop reading that boring shit, as Max called it and read his personal missive to you.”
He picks up a white envelope and pulls out a single sheet of paper. It’s a distinctive shade of blue.
My sons.
If you’re hearing this, I’m finally gone. I hope you got a bit of a laugh out of my last will and testament. Had to throw a few curveballs in there just to shake things up. I meant what I told Carol about no tears. This isn’t a time for sadness but for joy. Knowing all of you was the culmination of a lifelong dream. You are all the embodiment of the man I could never be.
Until the next lifetime,
Max
Mr. Levitt places the letter carefully back in the envelope. Then he leans down and pulls out a bottle of Jameson.
“Your father requested that we share a drink in his honor. His favorite Irish whiskey for his favorite Irish boys. His words.”
He pulls out five glasses and pours a little in each. Tank hands one back to me and I stare at the amber liquid, Max’s last words to us rolling around in my head.
We all take a sip and then Tank starts laughing again.
“Only Max could turn a funeral into a pub crawl.”
They all laugh again but I can’t summon any levity. I’m burdened not just by the loss but by my part in it. Looking back I’m not sure that I would do anything differently. I had a hand to play and I played it. Max himself seemed to understand why I was doing it. He called it doing what I had to do. But none of it matters now, does it?
The end result is the same. He’s still gone.
I walk out, their laughter echoing behind me. I walk past the girls still sitting in the front row before the altar and past the people congregating in the lobby. Maybe if I walk far enough I can forget that doing what I had to do came at a very high price.
One I’m not yet sure how to live with.
Chapter Eighteen
Seven
I trot out of the funeral home and look frantically left and right. When Sasha told me she saw Luke walk past, I assumed he was going to the bathroom or just out front to get some air. Not that he wouldn’t be coming back.
But it’s been an hour and there’s no sign of him.
“We drove around the block and didn’t see him. Did you try to track his cell phone?”
I nod. That was the first thing I tried. I’m too embarrassed to admit that he’s deliberately turned his GPS off. He doesn’t want to be found. But that doesn’t mean that I can just give up. Tank said that he was upset after hearing his father’s last letter.
Even if he doesn’t think he wants company right now, he needs it. No one should be alone while they’re hurting. I know all too well how that feels.
Another ten minutes goes by and then I see something at the end of the street. “Is that him?”
Tank has been leaning against his car talking on his phone but stands at my shout. He shades his eyes with his hand. He nods at me and then tells whoever is on the other end of the phone, “We found him. I’ll call you back.”
Luke is walking on the sidewalk, his head down so he hasn’t noticed us yet. By the time he gets closer I can see that he looks all disheveled. The legs of his pants are dusty like he’s been walking for a long time.
“You’re all dirty.”
He looks down at his shoes. “Yes. I am.”
When he doesn’t say anything else, I look over at Tank. He takes the hint.
“Where’ve you been, bro?”
Luke shrugs. “Walking.”
“We were, uh, getting a little worried about you.”
“I had to get out of there.”
Tank glances over at me. “I’m going to drive you guys home but if you need anything later, don’t hesitate to call.”
I know that last bit is meant for me. He made sure that I had all of their phone numbers earlier, something I’m grateful for now. The way Luke is responding is really scary. He’s answering our questions but the dispassionate way he’s speaking sounds like a robot. Like he doesn’t really care about anything.
“Come on baby.” I’m so grateful that Tank drove since the limo that brought us here is long gone. I climb in the back with Luke, happy when he puts his arm around me instead of pulling away.
Tank waves after he drops us off and Luke follows me into the apartment. He stands there, like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do now. I take his hand and lead him back to the bedroom. He allows me to push his suit jacket off his shoulders. I fold it carefully and rest it on the back of his desk chair. Then I unbuckle his belt and pull his shirt out.
I glance up at him. There’s something so sad about the way he’s allowing me to tend to him. He seems to want someone else to take the lead. I finish stripping him out of his clothes until he’s nude then I pull my dress over my head.
His eyes heat and he watches as my bra hits the floor next. Then he grabs me and his lips are moving roughly over mine, almost bruising in their intensity.
“Need you, Sev. Need you so much.” He buries his face against my shoulder, holding me so tight I can barely breathe.
Maybe this is what he needs, a reaffirmation of life after all the harsh emotions of the last few days. I kiss him fiercely, hoping he can feel how much I love him. How much I miss him.
It’s been so hard to feel him pulling away from me. That first day he couldn’t even look at me and I know it’s because it made him think about what he had to do. It scares me that I might lose him now after everything we’ve gone through. I feel so selfish thinking about myself when he’s just lost his father but I’d be lying if I pretended I wasn’t worried.
I’m terrified that he’ll always look at me and see death and pain and loss.
He walks us backward until we end up on the bed, falling in a tangle of arms and legs. He takes my nipple between his lips and then his hand is pulling my thong off. Leveraging above me he thrusts so deep, until I’m stretched almost to the point of pain.
“Yes. That’s what I need.” His head falls back on his shoulders and I look up at him, glorying in the sight of him in the throes of pleasure. When his eyes fall to mine, he looks tormented.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours. I’m only yours, Luke.”
My whispered promise doesn’t seem to satisfy him. He slides deep and grinds against me until I cry out.
“Tell me you’ll never leave me.”
It’s a struggle to open my eyes when he’s circling his hips that way. I shudder underneath him but manage to moan, “I’ll never leave you, baby.”
His agonized groan sends a skitter of sensation down my spine and I arch against him, the taut tips of my breasts brushing his chest.
“Do that again. Clench around me.”
I deliberately tighten my internal muscles.
“Fuck.”
That sets him off and I lift my hips, trying to match his rhythm. His arm slides underneath and holds my hips in place as he hammers against me. He’s usually so gentle but this fierce, untamed version of Luke is turning me on in a whole new way. It’s all I can do to hang on for the ride, as he takes me hard, pounding me to a fast, sweaty orgasm.
It doesn’t roll through me like a wave, rather it slams into me and leaves me panting after it’s over. He cries out and by the quick jerk of his hips and how his shoulders bunch and flex beneath my fingers, I know he’s come, too. I hold him against me, not ready to let him go just yet. But when I try to pull back, he tightens his arms around me. He shudders again and turns his head away and my heart breaks all over again.
All I can do is hold the man I love close and pretend not to feel the moisture leaking onto my shoulder.
* * *
Over the next few weeks, things seem better. I send my landlord two months’ rent in exchange for breaking my lease and arrange for movers to pack up my apartment. It’s odd to be making these sorts of changes but I’m determined to go forward with purpose. No more sticking my head in the sand or avoiding hard decisions.
Luke wants me to stay and there’s nowhere I want to be more than here. He needs me. And I need him, too.
He’s been spending a lot of time on his coding initiative. I think it’s just an excuse to take his mind off things but I wholeheartedly approve of anything that focuses his mind on something productive.
We spend hours each day debating ideas and brainstorming. At times he seems almost like the old Luke. Brilliant and creative and driven.
At other times he seems like a mere shadow.
He’s gone to help Tank set up his new stereo system, something I suspect is just his brother’s way of checking up on him. If I didn’t already like his brothers, I would absolutely adore them by now. Every day someone has found a reason to stop by and see him.
Luke doesn’t know how to ask for what he needs, so the fact that they’re coming to him shows how well they know him. And how much they care for him. Even though Luke often feels like the odd one out since he didn’t grow up with any of them, it’s equally as obvious that they’re determined to include him in their lives going forward.
Something I’m grateful for.
Things have been so hectic around here that I’ve missed my last two calls with Grace. I’ve been emailing her to let her know what’s going on but it’s not the same as hearing her voice. I settle on the couch and call her. As usual she answers right away. When she hears my voice, the music in the background immediately lowers.
“Hey. How are things going? Is Luke doing any better?”
I didn’t tell Grace the whole story but she’s aware that Luke’s been having a hard time dealing with his father’s death. She still doesn’t know about my role in things.
“Better. Much better. I’m so sorry I couldn’t call before.”
“It’s fine. I totally understand.”
“I just didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Things have just been so messed up here.”
“Whoa, Sev. What’s going on? I’ve never heard you so upset before.”
I sniffle, trying to rein in my emotions. It’s been an emotional few weeks. And now I have to admit to her that after all the promises I’ve made, I’m probably not going to get custody of her after all. Agent Walker hasn’t contacted me again but since the raid went so wrong, I seriously doubt if he’s going to be anxious to help me. Truthfully, I’m just trying to stay off his radar completely.
“I did something. Something I’m not proud of.”
Grace doesn’t interrupt for once but I can hear her breathing on the other end so I know she’s listening.
“At the time I told myself I had a good reason. It was so I could push my petition for custody through. I was worried that I wouldn’t be approved otherwise. Now it’s all ruined anyway so you’ll have to stay with the Barnetts a little longer until I can figure something else out. I’m so sorry, Grace.”
I take a deep breath. It was hard to admit my mistakes but I feel better now that she knows. It’s disappointing but I just want her to know that I haven’t given up on her. That I’ll never leave her to fend for herself, the way I had to.
She sighs.
“Seven … I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this for months now. The Barnetts have actually said that they … they want to adopt me.”
“They do?”
Even though it’s a great thing and I should be happy for her I can’t deny that I feel a little lost hearing this. Through everything I’ve always thought of Grace and I being together again one day. A real family. Now she’s going to be family with someone else.
“I was afraid to tell you.”
Now I’m ashamed. She’s had the opportunity to have some stability in her life and she’s been holding off out of fear of hurting me. Again, somehow I’ve managed to make it all about me when it’s supposed to be the other way around.
“Oh Grace. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of anything. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”
“It’s just that you’ve always worked so hard trying to figure out a way for us to be together. And I’m just here living a normal teenage life. Without you. When they told me they wanted to adopt me, I felt so guilty for being happy when you’re still alone.”
Her voice is so small that she sounds like a little girl again. Maybe that’s my problem. In my head she’s forever that abandoned baby and I haven’t been ready to see that she’s growing up. It’s time for both of us to move on.
“We’ve both been feeling guilty for wanting to live our lives. But maybe this is how things are meant to be. You’ll always be my sister, Grace. No matter what.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Go tell the Barnetts that you’re ready to get adopted.”
She sniffles a little on the other end of the line. “Okay. But wait, what about you? Does this mean that you’re going to stay with the hottie hacker now?”
“Yes. He asked me to stay. He really loves me Grace. And I love him, too. I just hate that I’ll be so far away from you.”
“I’ll miss you, too but don’t worry about me. Luke is the one who needs you right now.”
“I’m not sure what he needs.”
“Seven, he’s never lost a parent before. You have. You’d know better than anyone what he needs right now.”
After we hang up, I think about what she said. When I lost my mom, for years all I could think about was why. That’s how I know Luke is torturing himself with guilt over what happened. I pick up my cell phone again and start dialing.
