Chapter 17 #2
Becks spoke over Cameron when she made a protesting sound. “Grandma left Liam and me her inheritance, and the two of you did all this to gain access to it?”
Ritchie smiled at her, clearly pleased with his own ingeniousness. “I told you once before, baby, I play the long game.”
He had, but that was in reference to poker, if she remembered correctly. Becks looked at her brother, who had his head leaning back against the concrete wall behind him and was staring unseeingly at the ceiling above them.
Money. All this was about money. Ritchie had dated her for a year and a half, and almost married her, just to get his hands on an inheritance she hadn’t even had yet. A thought occurred to her then. “Grandma? Did you kill her?”
Ritchie snorted. “No, that was just bad timing on her part. Couldn’t have you learning about her money before you tied the knot, now could I?”
Bad timing? Had he really just called her grandmother’s passing bad timing? Then again, given where she and Liam were, was she all that surprised he was so heartless?
Her mind worked fast, trying to think through the possibilities of everything she just learned. “I’ll sign the money over to you. There’s no need to kill either of us. We have full control over both our accounts, so I can give you anything you want.”
“And come after us for kidnapping?” Ritchie snorted. “I don’t think so.”
“Then go somewhere the law can’t find you!
You’ll have almost four million dollars at your disposal.
Go to a non-extradition country and set yourselves up on a beach somewhere.
” Becks didn’t care how desperate she sounded.
She wasn’t a martyr. If she could get both her and Liam out of this alive, she would.
“You’re forgetting one thing, you fat pig,” Cameron snapped, hands on her hips. “We made it look like Ranger is dead. Meaning, his money is now your money. Can’t have both of you showing up alive or your signature on his half means nothing.”
Becks had no idea how inheritances or estates or any of this worked. She wasn’t an attorney, nor did she have enough knowledge about trusts to know what was legal and what wasn’t.
She looked to Ritchie. He had lied about a lot of things, but she knew for a fact that he was a successful lawyer.
She’d been to his office parties with him, met his bosses, and had been inside his office.
He could fool her into thinking he loved her, but she wasn’t so dense that she wouldn’t have seen through that ruse.
Too many people would have had to have been involved to pull something like that off.
Her current, unadulterated hatred of Ritchie did not negate how smart the man clearly was.
He couldn’t have lied or faked his way into one of the most prestigious law firms in Atlanta.
But damn, was he a good actor. She didn’t know when his drug usage had started, but had trouble believing he got hooked the morning of their botched wedding.
She also had a hard time believing his Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality swap was drug related, and believed the man to just be a superb actor.
It still grossed her out that she’d fallen for it and had allowed him not only into her heart, but also her body. She may not have loved him, but she had cared for him, or the him she had believed Ritchie to be.
She hoped all her years of studying movies, actors, and working in the industry had lent her even some of that skill, because if there ever was a time that she needed to get away with a lie, it was now.
“I’m Liam’s Power of Attorney.” She wasn’t.
As far as she knew, that was their mother, and she hoped, prayed, and pleaded with the universe that there wasn’t an easy way for Ritchie to do a quick Google search and disprove her.
“He switched it to me after Dad died. Mom was in no position to deal with it, and he needed to name someone before being deployed again. Even after he left the military, he never changed it. Alive or dead, I have control over his finances and medical decisions.”
Ritchie’s eyes narrowed. “You never told me that.”
“Until this very moment, I forgot!” she argued, talking out of her ass. “He was retired from the military, and I never had to use it.”
Please, please, let her be a good enough liar to pull this off.
Cameron stepped up beside Ritchie. “Is she saying what I think she’s saying?”
Becks didn’t look at her, keeping her gaze solely on Ritchie. He seemed to be the one calling the shots, though Becks wasn’t entirely certain he was firing on all cylinders. She hoped she could use that to her advantage.
“Let’s say we do let your brother go, and you sign everything over to us.
It’ll still take time to get everything transferred.
What do you suggest we do with you while we wait?
And what will keep big brother from sending the cops after us before we can escape the country as you so elegantly suggested? ”
Becks’ heart hammered in her chest, but she refused to allow herself to get distracted by hope.
“Keep me. He won’t say a word if you still have me.
” Not that he would be in any condition to give an accurate story of what had happened.
She didn’t even know what it was Liam currently knew.
His lucid moments were so far and few now.
“And what do we do with you once we have the money?” Based on Ritchie’s expression, he was thinking the same thing as Becks. And both knew that she would have no trouble retelling what had happened here.
Becks swallowed hard. “I won’t lie to you and tell you that I won’t say anything.
Neither one of us would believe that. But I can promise you that I won’t name you for two days.
” She held up two fingers for emphasis. “That’ll give you plenty of time for you to get out of the country.
” When neither Ritchie nor Cameron said anything, Becks added, “I don’t give a damn about the money.
You know me well enough to believe that,” she sneered with disgust. “Take it. Do whatever you want with it. I only care that both my brother and I walk away from this.”
She would agree to anything, give them anything, if it allowed her to see Ghost again.
Cameron’s eyes danced between her and Ritchie. “Can she really sign the money over to us without dying?”
“As long as she’s not lying about being his power of attorney,” Ritchie said slowly, as if he was considering all the angles of this new reality.
Becks did not allow her expression to change, and she’d never in her life tried so hard not to blink. “I’m not,” she vowed.
“Sign everything, and we’ll let him go,” Ritchie told her.
Excitement and hope prematurely filled her.
Becks shook her head. “No. Let him go, and once I see he’s free, then I’ll sign everything.
” When Ritchie hesitated, she pressed, “You’ll still have me.
I just need to know he’s safe before I give you anything.
After everything you’ve done to us already, can you really not understand why I need a show of faith on your end? ”
Ghost wasn’t asleep when his phone rang.
Bulldog and Lucky had forced him out of his office, and under threat of Tessa sedating him, Ghost had agreed to go lay down in bed.
He never agreed to sleep. Not that he could have if he wanted to or tried.
He was fucking exhausted and his entire body ached like he’d been hit by a freight train, but there was no way he was sleeping without his arms wrapped around Becks.
It was like his body had physically been changed by her, and it didn’t function right unless she was with him.
So for the past several hours, Ghost had been lying in bed on Becks’ pillow, staring up at the ceiling and calling himself all sorts of useless.
How could he not know where his wife was?
Why didn’t he have some sixth sense about what direction to find her in?
What was being done to her? His soul ached, thinking the worst. He didn’t know Ritchie—had only met him that one time at the church—but Keys found evidence linking him to a drug dealer in Atlanta.
Only a day after the wedding, Ritchie’s bosses made him take a drug test. He failed, obviously.
Was that what all this was about? Ritchie wanted Ranger’s and Becks’ inheritances to fund his drug addiction?
Ghost picked up his phone, not even bothering to check who was calling him. Unless it was Becks, it wouldn’t matter anyway. “What?”
“Ghost!” He bolted upright in bed. Not because of the franticness of the feminine voice on the other line, but because of who it was. Tally! Tally was with Scar. And Scar… Scar had been on the hunt for the past four and a half days. “We found Ranger! He’s in bad shape, but he’s alive!”
The relief Ghost felt at those words was palpable, but tainted. “Becks?” He was almost too scared to ask, but he had to know.
“I’m sorry. She’s not here.” Tally paused, and then said, “The ambulance is coming. I called them before I called you.” Ghost didn’t hear anything, but in the year plus that he’d known Tally, he’d learned that not much escaped her ears. “Once I know where we’re going, I’ll text you.”
“Where are you?” Ghost asked, already getting his boots on. At least he could start heading in that direction.
“Head to Cottonville. I’m not sure if we’re closer to Mount Grove or Cottonville, but we’re somewhere between. She’s close, Ghost.” The sound of approaching sirens cut Tally off. “I have to go. I’ll text you once I know which hospital they’re taking him to.”