"David, give it to him," she said while her husband looked at her.
"You're not serious, Ava," David asked.
"I am," she responded, then looked at Des. "But in return, there is something we want from you."
"No,” Des said, unwilling to listen to her offer. "I'm not playing games with you two any longer. Give me the original will, and I will be on my way."
When neither of them moved, Des pulled out his cellphone and dialed Erin's number, putting the call on speaker. He smiled when she answered instantly.
"Des, where did you go? We weren't done talking."
“Erin, I want to add two more names to the lawsuit against Hamlin and Casey."
"Okay, who?" she asked.
His father growled. "We'll give it to you."
"Erin, it seems things might change. I'll call you later." Des hung up, quirking a brow at his parents.
David walked over to the far corner of his office and moved the fake Domenico di Medici painting, revealing a safe Des didn't know was there. Minutes later, it was open, and his father pulled out a box and then handed it to Des.
"What is this?" Des asked, inspecting the metal box.
"Everything your grandfather left you," Ava answered. "There were a few other things that weren't in the will. We never looked through the contents."
Des nodded and looked at them. "Thank you." He turned, ready to leave, but his mother grabbed his arm.
"Son, wait." He didn't look at her, but there was a tremor in her tone that he had never heard before. "We did what we thought was best. We didn't want you to waste your talent."
Des stood still, listening and hoping that she would apologize, something that would allow him to forgive her one day. Yet she remained silent. Pulling his arm away, Des tucked the box under his arm with his helmet and walked out of his parents’ home. The crowd had thinned a little, but people were still milling around. No one dared to stop him or speak to him, which was completely fine with him.
Des wanted nothing to do with his parents. He safely put the box away, straddled his bike, and rode home feeling relieved yet sad at the same time. He'd been so angry at his grandfather and parents that he wasn't sure how to feel now. Once he got home, he didn't waste a moment. He drafted up a resignation letter and sent it off. He was done with that part of his life. Sometime during the week, he'd go to the hospital and collect his things. Now, all he had to do was look through the box with his grandfather's things.
Picking it up, Des moved over to the sofa and unlocked it with the key he found taped on the bottom of the box. His eyes clouded the second he saw the last picture he and his grandfather had taken. He'd just graduated from high school when his grandfather died. Setting the picture aside, Des noticed there were a couple of sealed envelopes on the bottom under a few knick-knacks that once belonged to his grandfather. Pulling out the envelopes, he noted his grandfather's scribbled handwriting that brought a smile to his face, and also noted they were still sealed.
Tearing them open, he spotted the deed to the building he had been gifted. He knew fate had intervened because it was the very one Des had his eye on for so long. Who knew it had belonged to him all this time? The other documents were the will and more deeds to properties he doubted even his parents knew his grandfather had owned. Setting it all back into the box, Des sent a quick text to Erin to schedule another meeting so that they could go through everything together.
After he had completed everything needed, Des sat back in his chair, feeling completely relaxed in his mind and body for the first time in forever. He was starting a new chapter in his life and wanted to celebrate. He couldn't believe how things had changedfor him in a matter of hours. He chuckled excitedly, rocking back and forth on the couch.I can't believe I threatened them with the press. When the fuck did I get so damn brave when it came to my parents?The brevity of how he'd acted hit him like a ton of bricks, and he dragged his fingers through his hair.Fuck, I need a drink. A very strong one. But I don't want to drink alone.He was still holding his cellphone, so he pulled up his contacts and was about to call Gray and ask him if he wanted to hang out when he spotted the newly saved number in his contacts.
Don’t waste it, Doc.
Des wasn’t clueless as to what the man had meant. He’d found Othello Moor attractive from the first time he saw him on the operating table, and even though he seemed to like fucking with Des, Moor wasn’t a bad guy. He listened with an open mind when he talked, and maybe Des was reading too much into things, but he felt a connection between him and Moor. It would be nice to get to know him more. Perhaps they could be friends.
“Oh hell, who am I kidding? I want the man to fuck me so good I’d be his willing slave.” Des stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip, wondering if texting Moor was worth taking a chance. Would the man respond or ignore him? Before he could change his mind, Des typed up his message, and he hesitated only for a second before hitting send. He was waiting on pins and needles to see if Moor was going to reply. Not even five minutes later, he got his answer, which left him giddy.
Name the time and place.
Des got up and did a little dance. He had no idea what would be the perfect place, but he’d figure that out later since his stomach growled so loud it sounded like a wounded animal—humming while he went to make dinner.
Today didn’t turn out so badly after all.
SCENE IV
DES
“Doc, when you said you would buy me dinner as repayment, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”
It took longer than expected, but the date came weeks after his initial text. He had been a little preoccupied with his grandfather’s inheritance. Des was cleaning up, painting his new place, and taking his time redecorating it to his taste. It would be quite some time before his studio opened, but now he had time to dedicate his energy to finishing his art degree.
