“Yes, we know,” Mac spoke firmly, trying to keep Tray from launching into one of his tedious, overly long stories full of needless twists and turns. “Who called, Tray? And for whom did they call?”
Tray opened his mouth again, but Dixon held up a hand. “Go against every instinct in your body and give us the abridged version, dude.”
“A law firm in Seattle wants to come here and meet with Tessa,” Tray blurted out, eyes bulging like it took impossible effort to concentrate his news.
My jaw dropped. The callhadbeen for me, not Catalina. Then my heart skipped a beat.
“What was the name of the law firm?” I could barely ask the question, my throat felt swollen, my lungs breathed sluggishly, depriving me of air.
“Um,” he cocked his head, trying to remember, “See, I knew this. If you guys would have just let me tell the whole story my way, I’d remember.” He frowned, still thinking. Finally, his face brightened. “Johnas, Bridgers, and…” he started humming, singing under his breath, “76…mmm, mmm, city. Pardon me. Mmmm, mmm. Aaron.” He stopped muttering the song and shouted the last. “Burr, sir!”
“Johnas, Bridgers, and Burr,” I repeated in a daze.
“You know that law firm?” Ryder wrapped an arm around me. In fact, they all moved closer, sensing the shift in my scent as my emotions began to whip into a frenzy.
“Yes.” I took a steadying breath, “Yes, I know them.”
After Mac brewed me a cup of chamomile tea and Dixon got the big, velvety blanket from the pack suite, wrapping it around my trembling body, I told them about the last time I saw Mister Johnas. They already knew what happened to my family’s estate; that news was all over media. We all assumed he was the driving force behind keeping my face out of the news.Was that the way he’d chosento protect me? To hide me away, to push me into obscurity? All he’d done was kept me alone and vulnerable.
“Do you want us to call them back for you, Tessa?” Mac was kneeling in front of me, his gaze probing.
All I could do was nod.
“And you want to meet with them? If you don’t, we’ll handle it.” This from Mac too.
I nodded but knew that could be construed either way. “Meet with them,” I whispered, so they’d all know for sure.
Three dayslater I found myself sitting at our dining table across from Mister Johnas. He seemed to have aged a decade over the last two years. His hair was stark white now; craggy lines cut through his face and the color of his eyes had faded so much. He’d wanted to speak to me privately first, but my Alphas wanted in the kitchen within earshot. I could smell them; they were on edge and in protection mode.
“You look so well, Tessa. That makes me happier than you know.” He meant what he said, his voice a mixture of guilt and happiness. In front of him was a thick folder, sleek and black, stamped in gold.
“You should have seen me a few months ago,” I joked halfheartedly. “I was living in a box.” I probably didn’t need to add that last bit; I’d done so out of spite, so he couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d turned me away with a pittance and a prayer.
“I’m so sorry, Tessa. I have no excuse for offering you so little help. I owed your parents, your pack, more.” He didn’t look away from me. He faced his wrongdoing with courage.
I relented, seeing his grief. “Your hands were tied, Mister Johnas. I understand.”
“I tried my best to protect you. I didn’t want the vultures finding you, demanding interviews, and taking their pound of flesh. The rest of the firm thought that was a mistake.” He sighed, swiping a hand down hisface. “Maybe it was a mistake. When I finally had good news, even I couldn’t find you. One picture in a paper, and you existed again.”
“It’s fine, Mister Johnas. I’m fine now.” My words felt hollow.Why was I comforting him?He seemed so sad though…
“No, there’s no excuse. There isn’t,” he insisted, “I should have brought you home. I should have kept you safe.” He swiped a tear away angrily, as if he didn’t deserve to cry.
I bit my lip, part of me wanting to comfort the old man again, the other part of me thinking he should feel badly. He should spend the rest of his life feeling terrible that he’d not done more. I gave myself a little shake. Hearing a soft meow, I glanced down and found Josie curling her body around the leg of my chair. She was freshly brushed, wearing the collar I’d painfully earned. I leaned over, picking her up and bringing her into my lap for comfort. She wriggled at first, not wanting to be confined, but then she must have sensed how tense I was, because she decided to settle against my legs and purr.
Silence was falling. I didn’t want that. I wanted this over with as quickly as possible.
“Why are you here, Mister Johnas?” I wanted him to get to the point, and then I wanted him to leave. He was a part of my dead life. An awful reminder, when I was already drowning in sorrow as my birthday approached.
“I’m here, because everything is yours, Tessa.” His face suddenly brightened. He said it almost triumphantly, flipping the folder open. He said it like I should understand what he meant.
“Everything is mine? I don’t understand.” I stroked my hand over Josie’s back, grounding myself through the feel of her. The only thing that was truly mine now was my pack. This home. This life. This safety that I’d never let life steal away from me.
“Over the past year, I began reaching out to my contacts in the IRS and the marshals.” Mister Johnas shifted pages, beginning to set them out in a row in front of him. He kept them as uniform as possible, half an inch between each crisp pale page. “The government has a nasty habit ofeither never finishing a tax investigation or never communicating the result.”
“Okay…” I drew out the word, eyebrow arching. Maybe I was being obtuse, but I just wasn’t getting why he’d seen fit to come down from Seattle.
“The Fortune Pack was cleared of all charges six months ago, Tessa,” he spoke slowly, giving me time to comprehend. “It’s all yours again, darling girl. Every square foot of property. Every car. Every chair. Every plate. Every fork. Yours.”
