44. Matthew
44
MATTHEW
“ I ’m sending them up, Mr. Adams.” The security at the front desk alerted me that the authorities were on their way up.
Ever since Wyatt’s suicide when Liz confession tapes were found, the authorities had been swarming me. As I was next of kin, any assets typically would have gone to me. That was if my adoptive father hadn’t defaulted on an entire company while trying to frame his brother-in-law in the process.
The circumstances were shitty, and I would evidently be left with nothing. Well, nothing that was acquired with Wyatt and Liz’s dirty money. Anything that was purchased with money from my trust fund or bought by Wyatt or Liz was about to be seized by the government. All the lengths my adoptive parents went through to have money and maintain a lifestyle that never satisfied them were for nothing.
I remembered how impressed I used to be by all the extravagance Liz and Wyatt exposed me to. Now the very same items sickened me. All I saw now was what I almost lost as a consequence to being seduced by money and materialistic bullshit.
I vowed not to be swayed anymore—never again.
I looked around the apartment and saw Cassie pouring Rocky’s food into his dish, and I couldn’t help but smile. It was all so simple, but the little things meant the most to me. My gaze wandered and I took in the mess of boxes scattered around the apartment. Cassie and I had been packing things up, setting them aside to be sorted out by the officers. The kitchen countertop had stacks of bank statements and receipts showing proof of my personal assets.
Silas had advised me to be prepared to prove I purchased whatever I wanted to keep with money rightfully earned from my employment at Adams Point. Thankfully, I was meticulous in my recordkeeping, so I had the documentation on hand for the few things I was interested in. Including the apartment. Luckily, I had purchased it with my first big raise or else the SEC would have taken that too.
Despite being able to keep the apartment, Cassie and I had decided to sell it. Being back there after the shooting made Cassie uneasy. Every time she passed by my office, despite the door being firmly shut, she said could recall finding me lying on the floor, blood coating my shirt.
I readily agreed. It never felt like a home anyway. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t realized it never would have because my home had always been with her, just as hers was with me.
We were planning to look for a new place together, something that would be ours, but for the time being, Cassie and I were going to stay with Audrey at her apartment. Normally, we’d be concerned about it feeling crowded, but Audrey spent every possible second with Henry, so we would basically be on our own.
The elevator dinged, alerting us of our incoming company. Rocky barked loudly, announcing his discomfort.
After that, it was a blur of police officers and men in bomber jackets, assessing any valuables and collecting anything they knew was listed under Wyatt’s assets.
“Sir?” the older, balding police officer asked, tapping me on the shoulder.
I nodded in response, lifting my head to face him.
“We are going to need that painting.” The officer pointed to Cassie’s artwork that hung in the foyer.
I shook my head and wordlessly rose from the barstool where I was sitting, taking it all in. I shuffled through the bank statements, searching for the withdrawal that matched Bridget’s receipt from the restaurant. Finding the one I needed, I handed it to the policeman, and then I ran my hand through my hair in exasperation. I wanted this all to be over and done with.
Scanning the paper quickly, he acknowledged me with a dip of his head. “Okay,” the police officer commented, and then he went back to speaking to a guy in a suit, who was writing something on a clipboard.
I couldn’t have given a shit if they took any of the other items in the apartment, but I’d be damned if they took Cassie’s painting. Well, there was one other thing I’d fight them tooth and nail for, that was if I could ever find it. I hadn’t seen the locket since the shooting, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. I had resigned myself to the fact that Derek probably took it and hawked it prior to his arrest.
I was planning to call a few pawn shops both in New York and New Jersey to see if I could track it down.
Speaking of Derek, he and Charlie had their days in court. Not surprising to anyone, Derek already had a track record of run-ins with the police. Possession, robbery, petty theft were all charges he acquired way before he attacked me.
The district attorney went harder on him than Charlotte because of his priors and cocky attitude. He showed absolutely no remorse for his actions, or the fact that I had almost died. It didn’t help matters that his public defender did the bare minimum in court.
Charlie worked with the police to find Derek and obtain a confession. Charlotte came clean and was repentant for her role in my attack. After Charlotte tearfully recounted her involvement, she recounted the abuse she endured during childhood and the manipulative behavior inflicted on her during their “relationship”. Derek sat back, a smug smile on his face, even going so far as chuckling when she spoke about finding her brother unconscious and hanging on by a thread. The judge did not look on the bastard’s behavior kindly at all, and Derek had been given more than one warning about how inappropriate he was being.
Derek was sentenced to seven years in prison. The initial charges were robbery and assault with a deadly weapon, but when the police finally tracked him down, they found him with a lot more than a dime bag of weed, so they added one for possession with the intent to distribute.
Since Charlotte was still a minor at sixteen years old, her sentencing could have gone a few different ways. She had in her favor that this was her first offense, her prior record being squeaky clean. Then there was the fact that I had written a victim’s statement to the district attorney’s office, asking for leniency. Cassie was pissed at me and made me sleep on the couch after I discussed my plan with her. As a result, Charlotte got a slap on the wrist, getting off lucky by only having to complete community service hours.
When the news had reached us, Cassie was torn. Sure she didn’t want Charlotte to rot in jail, but she confessed a part of her wanted her to feel the same pain she felt when I was lying in that hospital bed. She admitted she wanted her to know what it felt to have a part of your soul torn away in an instant. Understanding her motives wasn’t something Cassie saw herself easily doing.
For both of their sakes, Cassie decided to keep a healthy distance between them, but she wasn’t going to discourage me from having a relationship with her if I chose. She just wasn’t ready to forgive the unforgivable yet. If she could ever somehow come to forgive Charlotte that was.
Life was complicated. Messy, imperfect, and real. Sometimes really shitty, but also sometimes really magical. We made the mistake of pretending once before, and it had gotten us nowhere. Now we had to work to get to a better place. A healthier place. Therapy was beneficial to getting us there and we were only a few sessions in.
We both have been through so much over the years. If we had any chance at a long-term future together, every day would be an effort toward better.
Cassie sheepishly ducked out of the police-filled room to answer her cell phone when it started ringing incessantly.
I smirked to myself, finding it funny Cassie was getting to escape this madness.
“Mr. Adams, we are just about done here. The contents of the safe will be collected later by the county clerk’s office and then prepared for transport. Otherwise, we will start clearing the place out,” one of the men in suits alerted me, still in a daze.
I nodded. There was not much else I could do. It was all surreal, like I was watching from an outsider’s perspective. And in many ways, I was. I was watching as Cassie had all those years ago. Helpless to it all. All she could do was witness as the changes happened.
The only difference was I wasn’t losing anything I wasn’t willing to give up.
Time passed slowly to me. “Almost done” felt like it was in slow motion, but soon the apartment was a bare shell of what it once was. It looked empty, cold, and sterile. Much like my life without Cassie.
The realtor was coming to show prospective buyers the apartment later in the week, so it was probably for the best that the place was cleared out.
Change was good. A fresh start.
Cassie reentered the room a little while later. She hadn’t returned since she’d left to take her phone call. I had figured that she was hiding from all the commotion.
When Cassie sauntered over to the kitchen counter as I ate a bowl of cereal—no point in grocery shopping when we planned to be out of there soon enough—I gave her a cheeky grin. My one-track mind wanted to christen the apartment a few more times before we headed over to Cassie and Audrey’s apartment.
She looked at me and bit the inside of her cheek, then she turned away. I frowned. I thought we were moving past this nervousness to speak freely.
I set down the spoon, touched her on her shoulder so she’d face me again, and took her hands. “What’s the matter, baby?” I questioned, assessing her expression.
Cassie inhaled a deep breath. “It’s nothing bad. It’s just that—that was Marcus,” she started, smiling softly to herself. “He wants to make me one of his in-house artists. My art would be exclusive to his gallery, and I’d make a higher commission.” Cassie laughed disbelievingly.
I gave her an innocent peck on the mouth. “That’s amazing! When do you need to give him new pieces?”
Cassie became embarrassed, and she looked anywhere but my eyes.
“Cassie?” I inquired, hesitant.
“I didn’t tell him yes yet,” she whispered, inhaling sharply. “I’ve sold him a few pieces before but nothing of this magnitude. I didn’t want to hear the specifics.”
Rocky must have sensed her energy because he came over to sit at her feet. She ruffled his fur, and I waited for her to give an explanation for not jumping at this huge and exciting opportunity.
“Why would you wait on something like that?” I furrowed my eyebrows. This was her dream come true—why wouldn’t she grab it with both hands?
Cassie cast her eyes downward, unable to meet my hopeful stare.
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t feel confident or good enough to accept this amazing job.” She picked at her fingernails, much like when she was a child and was scared.
I stood and embraced her in a bear hug, resting my chin on her head. “Baby, you are worthy of good things. Remember what Phil said? We deserve good. You deserve good. You are the creator of your life. Not me, nobody, but you,” I recited, hoping I wasn’t pushing her too far.
Cassie nodded against my chest, hopefully knowing what I was saying was true.
She pulled away slightly, staring up into my eyes. “I’ll give him a call back,” she said with a slight upturn of her lips. As she stepped back, making her way to the master bedroom, I gave her ass a swat before watching her walk away.
I couldn’t help but smile like a fool. I was crazy about her. And so fucking proud of her. Of us.