He toyed with the idea of hiring an interpreter, but Basil hadn’t brought it up, and Derek didn’t want to assume. At least, not with shit like this. The lawyer was a stuffy, over-dressed, weedy little man who had probably been prom king back in his hey-day, and then had let the years ravage him. His mostly-grey hair had once been black, and his mouth held a near-permanent frown.
He didn’t seem to be their dad’s biggest fan, either, which was the only relief Derek took from sitting in that office. “So, you’re saying he left three million in cash, and his assets total four point six million,” Sage said after the reading was finished. “And that bastard seriously didn’t leave a thing to Derek?”
Mr. Thompson tapped his pen on the side of the desk and sighed. “His will allowed the transfer of the home in Missouri to Mr. Osbourne. The value of the property at the last assessment was at…”
“I don’t care,” Derek interrupted. “Seriously, I don’t care what it’s worth. I don’t actually want anything from him.”
“I’m aware, Mr. Osbourne,” Thompson said, addressing Derek directly, “that you were the sole caregiver for your father in the last three years. You were his assigned power of attorney, and both medical records as well as communication records will back that up.”
“So?” Derek asked, glancing over at Sage.
Thompson licked his lips as his gaze flickered between the brothers, like maybe he was uncertain if there was conflict between them over the will. “A case might be made that your father’s cognizance had been deteriorating due to the advanced cirrhosis, and he may not have been aware he had two sons near the end. However, a case might be argued that you are due at least half the inheritance—and that’s a case you’ll likely win if you decide to take this to court.”
Derek blinked, glancing at Sage for a startled second. “Okay hold on, I meant what I said about not wanting any of this.”
“If my brother wants anything my father left me, he can have it,” Sage cut in. “Trust me when I tell you that as far as I know, we’re both on the same page. We just want to get rid of it as quickly as possible.”
“I see,” Thompson said. He took up his pen again and made a note on his yellow legal pad. “As I have been overseeing your father’s estate for the last twenty years, I would offer my services. However, if you find that uncomfortable, I can also recommend several good attorneys who would be more than familiar with such a situation.”
Derek bit his lip, then said, “Actually I could use a good recommendation, but it’s not about inheritance or anything. It’s about custody, and it’s in Colorado.”
Thompson’s eyebrows raised. “Perhaps a discussion for another time? Before you leave, of course.”
Derek nodded, feeling only slightly guilty for immediately talking about Sam in spite of their present situation and dead father. “We should probably take a day and go over all this,” Derek said, eyeing the stack of folders.
“I’ll arrange for you to come back in after the funeral, assuming you’ll still be in the city. If not, I’m happy to come to you,” Thompson told him.
Derek figured the guy had gotten a decent pay-out from his father if he was being this helpful, but he couldn’t really turn his nose up at it. After making sure Sage was with him, he nodded. “One of us will call you. Thank you for all your help.”
“My pleasure,” Thompson said. “Let me put you in touch with the funeral home. All the arrangements were pre-made, so there’s little you need to do. Your father ensured his plot would be ready, and the expenses taken care of.”
Derek swallowed past a lump in his throat, then rose and he and Sage collected the folders before they headed out the doors. Neither one of them felt up for driving, so they’d hired an uber which was still waiting for them as they exited the law offices and quickly climbed inside.
“Fuck,” Sage said, letting his head fall against the window. “I need a damn drink.”
“Hotel bar could be good,” Derek replied. “I don’t really want to end up wasted somewhere like this. And Basil’s waiting for me.”
They fell into a silence which made Derek want to scream until he’d filled the void, and as the car came to a stop in front of the hotel, he realized he’d tensed nearly all of his muscles. He would be sore for days later, and he wondered how long he’d be suffering the repercussions of a death he shouldn’t even be mourning.
Sage was out of the car first, making sure the payment had gone through, and Derek followed him in through the lobby, past the lounge seating, and they quickly found a booth in the corner of the dimly lit bar. He sent a quick text to let Basil know they were back and going over paperwork, but he didn’t get a response and hoped it was because Basil was sleeping off the jetlag and flying anxiety.
Sage went to the bar to grab them a couple drinks, then satback down with a heavy sigh as he eyed the paperwork like it might spontaneously combust. “This fucking sucks.”
Derek nearly choked on his first swallow of beer, his laugh unexpected and so needed. He wiped his mouth with the flat of his palm, shaking his head with his grin. “Yeah, it really fucking does.”
“I never really thought about money until we didn’t have it anymore,” Sage went on, reaching out to thumb the corner of the folder. “Like, we didn’t really want for shit as kids—I mean, apart from the whole not wanting to get beaten and locked in a shed any time we mouthed off. But yeah, it just never occurred to me until we were on the streets. I told myself that when I got out of that fuckin’ warehouse and started making money, I’d make sure I was stable and never hungry again. Now, with this shit sitting in my lap, I’d rather go back there than use any of this for myself.”
“Feels like blood money,” Derek murmured.
Sage sighed, then picked up his pint and gulped down half before looking at Derek again. “I don’t think I could live with myself if we didn’t use it to help people. I know you got student loans and shit—I mean hell, I’m still paying off mine, but…”
“No,” Derek said in a rush, ignoring the queasy squirm of his stomach at the very thought of using his dad’s money for that. “I got loans, but I can pay them off fine without this. I can’t…I’m with you. I can’t do it like this.”
Sage reached over and took the second folder which detailed out all the property. He rifled through the papers, then came out with one near the bottom and spread it out between them. “This one though…”
Derek peered over and saw what it was. The Ozark cottage. “Sage,” he said from behind a breath.
“Hear me out,” his brother interrupted, making sure Derek was meeting his gaze. “This wasn’t dad’s place. Not really. It was mom’s. I remember…I remember him buying this for her. Her sister had just died, and she was a wreck. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen him look at her like she was a person. It was like two in the morning, and I was sneaking down to get cookies. They were in dad’s office and she was just sitting there crying and he looked so…he looked so helpless. He just kept asking her how he could help, and she just kept crying.” Sage ran a hand down his face, then rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling. “He came home like five days later with the keys, and we went on our first vacation there. He didn’t hit you that trip. Not once. Not that time.”
