by Emily Minton
My only worry is Decker Creamery. It provides jobs to thousands of people across the United States. Any decision I make about it, I will have to keep those workers in mind. I can’t just sell off my percentage without considering who it would hurt.
“I’m not sure what your father told you,” the lawyer says, trying to calm my sister. “But, the creamery and all funds connected to it was not your fathers to give away. Division of the Decker family fortune was set out in your great-grandfather’s will. Your father was to control the assets, providing an allowance to Joyce. Upon your father’s death, everything was to be split equally between Isaac, Joyce, and Michael if he were alive at the time of your father’s death. If he was deceased, which he is, everything was to be shared equally between Isaac and Joyce, and there was nothing your father could do to change that.”
“What?” my mother shouts, just as my sister asks, “What about the money? Dad had money of his own. Why didn’t I get that?”
“Most of the money was property of the Decker family, and the division of it was already covered in your grandfather’s will,” Mr. Reed explains before going on to say, “Your father had control of only what was gained from his investments. He used that to set up the fund for your mother and to cover his grandchildren’s inheritance.”
Ah, now I understand. This has nothing to do with Dad. This was my great-grandfather’s doing. My great-grandfather only had one child, my grandfather. Then, my grandfather had three children: my father, Aunt Joyce, and Uncle Michael that died when I was a teenager. My great-grandfather loved all his grandkids but he only liked two of them. He never had much use for Dad, always calling him a little weasel. I’m sure if I had been a bit older when he died, his choice of words would have been more colorful. Bottom line, he didn’t trust Dad or even his own son, my grandfather. Like me, he could see through the veneer they showed the world. I was different than the two of them, and my great-grandfather was never ashamed to admit that he valued my integrity more. Hearing that he didn’t make any provisions for my sister, I guess he saw a lot of my father in her too.
“I, for one, think this is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. It should’ve been this way many years ago; it’ll be good to see a real man lead this family once again,” Aunt Joyce says, pulling me from my thoughts.
With that, she leaves the room with a smile on her face. Watching her leave, I realize she knew what was in the will and she was chomping at the bit for everyone to find out its contents. She has never liked my mom, and I can tell she doesn’t like the woman my sister has grown up to be. She wanted to be here for this, to hear the reading of the will and all it said. She wanted to see the two women get what they deserved. Now that it’s over, I’m glad I got to see it too.
“Is that all?” I ask the lawyer, wanting to get away from all the whining coming from the other occupants in the room.
“We will need to discuss a few things before you leave,” he says, looking toward my enraged mother and sister. “We can do that later, after we have all had a few minutes to calm down.”
“I’ll find you before I leave town.” I stand up, pulling Addy along with me, and follow Aunt Joyce out of the room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Addy
My mind is still reeling from what the lawyer just told us. When the will was written, the Decker fortune was worth a shit ton of money. Since then, three years have passed, years that have been good. More than good, they have been great. Brew now has more than eight million dollars. A portion of that will have to go back into the company, but that leaves a fuck of a slush fund for our family. That is, if he decides to keep it.
I am ashamed that the thought of all that money has me excited. I’m already envisioning paid college tuitions, new cars, a house remodel, and a kick ass vacation for our family and our friends. At the same time, I am remembering Brew’s voice saying he didn’t want any of his father’s money. I understand his feelings and will stand by him, but I hope he keeps enough to help Boz and Trix with any unpaid bills and any future treatments. Maybe even keep a little, just in case that shit comes back later. Even as that thought crosses my mind, I say a quick prayer that it never happens.
“I cannot believe this,” James says, drawing my attention his way. “I was promised my share when I agreed to marry you.”
My eyes go directly to Trina, wondering what she will say to that. It’s got to cut deep, knowing the man only married her for money. Especially, when you consider that she is stuck married to the man that raped her when she was only a young girl. I watch as her face goes hard, sending him a death glare.
A part of me wants to feel sorry for her. This bitter woman is the same person that Brew nearly killed for. My man loved her with all his heart, a part of him still does. A bigger part enjoys that she is living a life filled with nothing but shit. She deserves it. She turned her back on her brother, the only person that ever truly loved her, just to make sure she had enough money to buy designer handbags. Now, she has nothing. No brother, no money, no one to love her.
Thoughts of her fly away when Brew wraps his arms around me and asks, “Are you ready to hit the road?”
“More than ready,” I reply, sliding my arm to his lower back.
I thought when we left the study, we were going to be able to get out of here. I’ve had about all this shit I can handle for one day. If this house wasn’t so damn big, we probably could’ve made a quick getaway, but Brew’s aunt Joyce stopped us before we made it halfway down the hall. She wanted to ask again about meeting our kids when she comes to Nashville next month. Since being here, I have learned that she comes to Nashville a couple of times a year to visit an old college friend. Each time she comes, she calls Brew, asking to come see him. According to her, she has begged him to let her meet the kids and me. Each time he has denied her, saying he didn’t want to let his old life interfere with his new life.
I understand why he feels that way, but I really don’t agree with him. She seems like a wonderful woman. A woman that loves my old man more than life itself. The kids and me would love to get to know her. Plus, my children have no blood ties, other than Brew and me. It would be nice for them to get to know some of their family.
“We could meet at one of the pizza places that the kids love so much,” she says, nearly begging to meet our children. “If Cam isn’t too old for that kind of stuff.”
Cam is definitely too old for that shit, but he won’t say a word. He would be happy as hell to meet someone that loves Brew as much as he does. When he hears all the stuff this woman has done for the man he calls dad, he’d even get in the fucking ball pit if it would make Brew’s aunt smile.
When Brew’s eyes meet mine, I can see the question in them and I just smile. “That sounds wonderful.”
His eyes flash with uncertainty, and I realize he is still warring with his need to protect me and the kids. I smile at him and then turn my eyes to Joyce. I can see the hope in her own brown orbs and can’t stop myself from smiling her way. I don’t want to get her hopes up because if it were up to me, they would’ve already met her. I’ll leave all that for Brew to decide.
He doesn’t disappoint me when he says, “You let us know when you’ll be in town, and we’ll do our best to be there too.”
The look on her face is priceless. After a very trying day, her nephew has given her something worth more than all the money in the world. She gives Brew a peck on the cheek, promising to call him soon, and much to my surprise, gives me a kiss bye as well.
“Let’s hit the road,” Brew says, pulling me toward the entryway.
We are just passing through the living room when we get stopped yet again. “Isaac, I almost forgot to give this to you.”
The lawyer holds out an envelope, waiting for Brew to take it. When he does, my man looks at it a moment before slipping it into the pocket inside his cut. I didn’t get a chance to get a good look at it, but I can only guess it’s from his father. I just hope that it’s not full of more sh
it, shit that will upset my husband.
The lawyer pats Brew on the back and says, “Your dad wanted you to have that. I know there were some issues between the two of you, but he really hoped that you would find it in your heart to read it.”
Mr. Reed doesn’t wait for him to respond; he just turns and walks away. I can see the tension spreading across Brew’s face as the rest of the family walks past us. Everyone but Logan gives us a look that could kill. Logan, he just shoots us an uncomfortable smile as if he would rather be anywhere but here. I give Brew’s arm a squeeze and motion for the door, letting him know that I’m ready to get out of here.
He nods in return, as we turn and start to walk away, but his mother’s voice stops us. “I guess the one person that didn’t love your father actually won in the end. You haven’t been a Decker in over a decade, yet still came out above the rest of us.”
I can feel the muscle tensing in Brew’s arm and know that he’s trying his best to hold in his temper. I’m not sure why; it’s not like these people deserve his patience. To me, they don’t deserve anything from him. If anything, they have earned his anger and all that comes with it, including getting the hard edge of his tongue.
Brew turns, looking his mother in the eye. “I may not have been a part of this family since I was a kid, but I’ve always been a Decker. Fuck, I’ve been a Decker, even when I didn’t want to be. Believe me, that was more often than not.”
His mother instantly shrinks back, clearly shocked that her son spoke to her that way. “How can you say that when your father just made you a rich man?”
My old man pulls me closer to his side and says, “I have my old lady, my kids, my club. I was already rich.”
The old woman’s face pinches up even more as she scoffs, “Your club. I assume you are talking about your biker friends. Criminals, every one of them.”
“Sure are,” Brews responds with a nod. “Each and every one of them are criminals, including me. Still, they have more integrity in their little finger than you do in your whole body.”
Apparently, hearing Brew talk about his real family causes his sister to be even more pissed off than she already was. “What do you know about integrity? I’m sure it’s not much with the trash you associate with. Then again, you are nothing more than trash yourself.”
Before Brew can make a move, I’m already heading to the other side of the room, not stopping until I get in the bitch’s face. Her words piss me off. No, they fucking infuriate me. Brew gave up his life for her, spilled blood for her. He even did time for her. There is no fucking way he is going to take one nasty word that passes through her lips. I won’t let him.
“Brew would never hit a woman, especially not his sister, but you can bet your sweet ass that I would have no problem with it. Open your mouth again and say one more nasty word and I’ll knock your ass out,” I say, putting my finger in her face.
She takes a step back and replies, “You wouldn’t dare.”
A smile spreads across my face as I go to my toes and whisper in her ear, “I’m married to a biker, and I’ve picked up some things from him. I know how to hurt you in ways that you’ve never even thought of. When I get done with you, your plastic surgeon won’t be able to fix the havoc I’ve caused.”
The look of terror that crosses her face brings a smile to mine. I’m not usually one that threatens people, or actually get pissed off enough to want to hit someone, but she pushed me too far. Far enough, that I meant every word I said.
Before I can spew another threat, Brew is pulling me away. “Enough, Red.”
I look up at him, seeing tension on his face. I nod, not wanting to add to the burden he is carrying and lean against him. I’ll do what he says for now, but the bitch is going to pay, sooner or later.
“What are you going to do with all the money?” James asks, his voice croaking on the question. “Please tell me that you have some sort of plan.”
Brew smiles, tension leaving his body. “I’m gonna buy some titty bars and then throw one hell of a fucking party.”
CHAPTER NINE
Brew
I watch Addy step into the bathroom and then pull out my phone and call Boz. It rings three times before he answers. His voice is gruff and full of sleep, even though it is only eight o’clock at home. Trix probably had a bad day. When that happens, they sleep whenever they can.
“Got some good news, brother,” I tell him, hoping he will agree to my plans.
I go on to explain about the will, telling him about all the money that will soon be mine. I will have to pay inheritance tax and deal with lawyers’ fees and such, but it will all be mine soon. Then, it will all be the club’s. I will probably keep a little and remodel the house like Addy has been bitching about the last few years. We need to add on a bigger garage and an extra bedroom. I may even extend the kitchen and laundry room, just to make shit a little easier on her. I will also buy her a new car and put some back for emergencies. Other than that, it will all go into the club and to pay off any of Trix’s bills.
As for Annaglade and Decker Creamery, I’m going to hand that over to Aunt Joyce. I don’t want the headache of dealing with that shit. She can have it and do what she wants with it. When she is gone, she can decide what to do with it. As for me, I hope she gives everything to Logan. He seems to be the only member of the family that has an ounce of backbone.
“I am glad for you, brother,” Boz says, sounding more alert.
“I want to give it to the club,” I say, watching Addy come out of the bathroom and grab some clothes out of the suitcase. “We can buy strip clubs, maybe invest in some other business, and get out of all the illegal runs.”
The club is never going to be completely clean. Hell, I’ll never be completely clean. We live on the edge and always will. Still, it would be nice if we could get out of some of the more dangerous shit. With the strip clubs, we will be selling snatch. You get a lot less time for pussy than you do for drugs and guns.
“That’s your money, Brew,” Boz says, his voice harsh. “I’m not letting you do this. The club will be okay. We just need some time to get shit straight.”
I spend a few minutes explaining my decision to him and end with a threat that I mean with every fiber of my being. “If you don’t let me do this, I’m giving every bit of it to the American Cancer Society.”
Addy looks my way, a smile on her face, walks into the bathroom, and shuts the door. Boz and I talk for a few more minutes, Pres not agreeing but not arguing with me either. By the time I hang up, I know he is leaning my way. With luck, the club will be back on track by the end of the year. Hopefully, most of the brothers won’t ever know how close we came to being in the shit. Just as I hang up, I hear the shower turn on.
I let out a frustrated breath and plop down on the hotel bed. If it were up to me, we would’ve hauled ass out of here as soon as we left Annaglade, but Addy was against it. She said the room was already paid for, the kids were taken care of, so we didn’t need to rush back home. We might as well enjoy the night alone and get a little freaky. Of course, after she points all that out, I couldn’t agree more. Now if her ass would just get out of the shower, we could get to the fun stuff.
Pulling my dad’s letter out of my pocket, I decide to get it read before Addy is done with her shower. I open it, dreading what it says. Knowing my old man, he probably wrote all about what a disappointment I am. Well, he was a fucking disappointment too. More of a disappointment than I could ever explain in a letter. My heart starts to pound the minute I see his familiar scroll. It is harsh, bold, and dark, as if he wants anyone that sees his writing to know how powerful he is.
My dear boy,
I have made a lot of mistakes in my life and am too much of a coward to admit them while I am still alive. On my death, I will finally be able to make those mistakes right. I was so worried about what everyone would think, if they learned that my daughter was raped. What kind of man lets something like that happen to his little girl? Not a man stro
ng enough to be worthy of the proud Decker name. With that fear in my heart, I ruined everything. I turned my beautiful daughter into a hate filled woman. A woman that I forced to marry the man who abused her. Even worse, at least in a way it seems worse, I threw my son to the wolves for doing what I should have done myself.
You remind me so much of my own father, a man that I could never live up to. You are strong, where I am weak. You are good, where I am malicious. I know money cannot make up for the things I have done, but I hope you will understand that, as I die, I knew you were right in trying to protect your sister. You are and always will be more of a man than I ever was. You keep standing up for what you believe in, treat your family like the treasure they are, and never forget that you have my father’s blood running through your veins.
I love you, son, more than you will ever know.
Love, Dad
I read over the letter again, not quite believing what it said. After my third read, I ball it up and toss it toward the trash can. My eyes stay locked on it as it hits the side of the can and tumbles inside. Good, that’s where it belongs, in the trash. It was nothing but a bunch of lies. Sure, he felt some regret for his mistakes, but he didn’t try to rectify them. The will was my grandfather’s doing, not his. Sure, he left some money to the kids. I appreciate him not leaving them out, but that is all he is ever getting from me. If he wanted more, he should have grown some balls and reached out before he was dead and buried. As far as I’m concerned, he is burning in hell and that is just where he belongs.
The sound of the phone ringing causes my thoughts to die a quick death. I grab it off the nightstand and smile when I see Lettie’s number flash on the screen. Obviously, my girl is ready for bed and wanting to say goodnight to her daddy.