Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
The instant he meets my stare, I nod in encouragement.
I’m willing to keep trying.
Not because I owe that asshole anything, but because the future Collins children deserve something we never had.
And there will be plenty of future generations of Collins.
Shelly was telling Pres as soon as Shelby hits two they will be trying again, and Presley has expressed her desire to me – and my sister-in-law – to have lots of children when we’re in a more stable place all around.
We’ll get there.
I fucking know we will.
“And lastly, to my youngest son, Ryder.”
Joy.
“It’s hard to say anything that I think you’ll listen to. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re in the room.”
Makes two of us.
“I thank Noah for that.”
And I fucking blame him.
“I want you to know – everyone to know – that I’m sorry for the way I mistreated you. You deserved a father yet were cursed with me.”
“Accurate,” I mumble to myself only to receives a throat clearing of disapproval by my brother.
“While there is no true compensation for shitty parenting, please take this money and build the future you deserve. The future you have earned. The future I once robbed from you.”
There’s an emotional twitch that occurs on my face.
“I am leaving you whatever is in all of my checking and savings accounts both domestic and foreign. The sum – depending on the time of my demise – should be roughly 6.2 million after taxes.”
Disbelief darts my eyebrows down. “What…in…the-”
“That’s after fucking taxes?!” Liz squawks, hands flapping around. “Does it say that? Does it actually fucking say that?!”
Peter nods in her direction. “It does.”
“Wait, a goddamn minute!” Mom screams from across the room, sending all eyes to her. “I get photo albums or scrapbooks or whatever is on these tackily painted walls, and he gets six million dollars?!”
“6.2,” the attorney states, politely revising her declaration.
“But why?! We were married for years!”
“And he paid alimony for years,” Noah gingerly reminds.
“This is…un-fucking-believable!” She tosses back whatever is left in her glass. “I’m getting in touch with my attorney.”
Peter pulls off his reading glasses. “I’ll be expecting his call.”
She angrily storms out of the room, purposely pulling a frame photo off the wall in the process.
“He hated you and left you basically everything?” Liz sneers, shifting my stare to her. “What the actual fuck is that about?”
I attempt to lighten her disappointment. “Paying for years of pain and suffering with interest?”
“That’s. Insane,” she unhappily hisses.
She’s not wrong.
“He should’ve left it to someone who was more responsible! You’re just gonna blow it all on coke and fucking hookers!”
“Liz!” Our brother bellows his chastising.
“Since you haven’t managed to give me a decent look since you flew down here on your broomstick, let me clarify some shit for you. First of all, I’m a recovering addict. As in I’m fucking clean. As in I have a goddamn job, apartment, car, and stable existence without the aid of drugs. As in I fucking work my ass off to keep shit that way.” Pointing a harsh finger at her, I growl, “And if you ever disrespect Pres like that again, there’s not a single fucking thing that Noah can say to stop me from verbally ripping you into a thousand pathetic Prada-wearing pieces.”
“Ugh,” Liz squeaks and storms out in a similar fashion to our mother.
Still like mother, like daughter, I see.
Now with them gone, I plant my stare back on Peter. “Okay, joke’s over. Tell me what I actually got.”
“6.2 million dollars.” There’s a momentary pause. “It might be more depending on some of the currency converts.”
“Look, dude, there’s no fucking way in hell he left me six million-”
“6.2,” Peter politely amends verbally while closing his briefcase back up. “And he did, Ryder.”
“But-”
“Physical copies have been mailed to all of you as well as digital copies to the primary email addresses we have on file. Mr. Collins’s accountants will be in touch soon to begin the process of transferring over funds. You should also be aware that he was anticipating taxes and along with other fees – including mine. There was a separate account for which that will be coming from. Mr. Collins’s did state that if there was by chance money left in it once everything was finished that Noah is to be left in charge of its distribution.”
Another nod of comprehension occurs from my brother.
Peter wishes us a good afternoon and disappears the same way the rest of the family took off.
At that moment, Noah kindly offers to Janet, “We’re going to get lunch with our families. Would you like to join us?”
Her eyes widen in surprise.
“I honestly um…didn’t know about your relationship with Dad as more than anything other than his caregiver, so I would love to get to know you and your time together.”
More tears fill her gaze.
“He may be gone, but you are still welcomed to be active in our family.” Noah shoots his crystal stare up to me. “Right, Ryder?”