I nod and take my time sipping my coffee, hoping the painkillers will kick in soon as I gawk at Pax stretching his shirt over his head. The thing is so old and worn down it does nothing to cover most of his body and I can see parts of all of his tattoos through the holes. The guy is an avid fan of reptiles and has all sorts of the slimy things inked over his body. I could and have literally played Snakes and Ladders up and down his neck, pecks, abs, arms, and his left calf. He’s been telling me he wants to get a sea serpent on the other calf, but I keep telling him my mother has no business getting embedded into his body.
“Stop staring and get moving or you are going to be late to meet with the lawyer schmuck,” Pax complains, tossing the helmet at me.
“Sorry, I was transfixed by the reptilian exhibit for a moment,” I wink. His cocky smile almost makes me want to bend over the counter again, but I change my mind, realizing he’s now growling. It’s his warning sound, so I’ve learned.
I buckle the helmet, waiting for Pax to gather his hair into a ponytail before I follow him out to his bike.
The ride home is much faster than I’d hoped. His engine is loud as I hop off, so I gesture at Pax to pull the bike around back by the guest house while I remove my helmet, noticing the same Porsche still parked in front of the house.
I bet Wallstreet not only swindled some cash out of Satan, he probably got a free hand job from her too. Pax knows to wait in the kitchen because he hates anything to do with lawyers, and he prefers to avoid Satan’s persistent sexual advances.
I enter the house through the front and catch sight of Natasha dusting the railings.
“Kirsten, I’m so glad you arrive!” she exclaims in her thick-cut Russian accent. “You mother is like crazy banana and break things again!”
Why am I not surprised?
“Shit, that sucks,” I shrug, “please go and tell her I’m here, and that I just need a minute to brush my teeth and freshen up. I’m sure it will calm her down.”
Natasha nods, looking doubtful as I sprint up the stairs. I don’t even know why she still works here after everything she’s had to clean up, let alone witness when it comes to Satan’s drunken rage fits and my father’s recent suicide.
I gaze in the mirror, displeased that I look even shittier than I feel as I wipe the makeup from under my eyes and spit the toothpaste in the sink. This is gonna be a shit day, I can already feel it.
Throwing my hair up loosely on top of my head, I change quickly into a baggy sweater and glide on some pit stick, hoping to disguise the rancid smell of bourbon that’s perspiring from my pores.
As I enter the living room, I meet eyes with mother’s cold cut glare and then scan over Wallstreet before I take a seat on the opposite side of the room.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Kirsten,” mother bitches, “now we can get the will dealt with. You may start now Mr. Morris.”
“Maybe I should introduce myself first,” he pauses, turning his attention to me. “I’m your late father’s attorney, Gabriel Morris, Gabe for short.”
“I already met you yesterday, outside by that piece of shit you so rudely drenched me with, Gabe. So, if you don’t mind, just get on with endowing my father’s empire to Satan so we can call it a day.”
“Kirsten!” mother slurs. “Can’t you be civilized and respectable for once in your life?”
I glare at her and shake my head, laughing.
“You mean like you and the fact Dad hasn’t even been in the ground a month yet and you’re already fucking Wallstreet here?”
Mother stands unsteadily, ready to toss her glass of wine at me, but Gabe stops her hand mid-air.
“Ladies, please,” he pleads. “I know this is a difficult time, but this will go much smoother if you just take a deep breath and calm down.”
I roll my eyes.
“And who do you think you are, Jerkoff? Just because you slept with Satan does not make you my father. Let the bitch break all the crap she wants; it doesn’t matter anyways; she’ll just replace it with money she never worked for.”
Mother laughs and slams down her drink as Gabe’s green eyes narrow, pinning mine. In the moment, I realize he’s not bad looking, minus the suit. He has a certain sex appeal about him, a nice build as far as I can tell, and he looks rugged with his unruly dark hair and unshaven face. I kind of get why mother wanted a piece of him, he can’t be a day over thirty.
Gabe clears his throat and opens a folder before addressing Mother.
“Helen, your husband was adamant about leaving you controlling shares of his company, but he left specific instructions that you are not to interfere with how it is run. He’s left Mr. Harrison in charge of daily operations. Robert also left to you the main house, the majority of his assets, stocks, bonds, and most of his vehicles. He left orders to split his bank account between the two of you, although Kirsten won’t be eligible to access a large portion of the money until she is twenty-four. He has left the boat and motorbike to Kirsten, along with the guesthouse, his library, wine, and record collections, along with a forty-five percent share of the company. Do either of you have any questions?”
“I do,” I say raising my hand. “Are
