Blaze: Queen's Birds of Prey

“No.”

She walked away again, going to the dining room. He knew it, too, was devoid of any furniture.

As he was being none too nicely pulled up from the floor, he was out the door before he could try again. Something had to give in her heart. Ellen had always been a sap when it came to him and Bethany.

There were three large furniture trucks in the front driveway when he was being taken to the cruiser. As he was put in the back seat of it, the doors were opened on the first one and he could see that it looked like it was filled with the things that they’d sold off. As the dining room table and chairs were unloaded, he had to smile. It must have cost her a fortune to get all that shit back.

Taken to the courthouse instead of the jail, he saw his sister there too. Unlike him, she’d been put in prison orange. He decided then that he needed to tell her to never get arrested again. Orange was not her color.

The courtroom was emptied except for the judge, the two of them, and several armed police officers. Ellen came in just as the doors to the back were being closed, and she wasn’t alone. The men and women with her looked not just wealthy, but powerful.

“We’re here today to read the last will and testament of Bishop Wolf Senior. Now that we have the correct will, we can proceed.” Bishop objected. “To what? The fact that you lied to a sitting judge and said the one that you found was the correct one? Or the fact that you’re going to have to pay back not just the estate, but also your stepmother for the things that you sold off in her home? What is it, boy?”

“I’m not paying her shit. She’s the one that was left out of the will. Not my sister and I.” The judge only stared at him. “We messed up, all right? I think that we can resolve this like adults and put this all behind us. Besides, when I was leaving home, or being dragged around like an animal, I saw that she’d been able to get the stuff back.”

“Your Honor?” The man with Ellen stood up. “My name is Lord Bryson Andrews. Ellen was my stepmother for a great many years before she married Mr. Bishop. I’d like to give you an accounting of the money that was spent on retrieving her things, as well as the expense of finding it. For the furniture that had been sold, not including the things that we’ve not been able to find, it comes to just over six point three million dollars. The time and effort put forth was just over—”

“Hey, wait a damned minute.” Bishop looked at his sister. “We did not get nearly that much for the shit that we sold. Even if we were to have to pay that back, that’s well above the amount that we got for it.”

“You’re to sit down and shut up, the both of you, so that I can figure this out for your sentencing. There will not be a trial simply because the two of you have admitted to me that you’ve done this. Besides, I’m not going to waste tax payers’ money on a trial of two people that should have been in jail long ago.” The judge looked at the man, Lord Andrews, again. “Go ahead, Your Lordship. Give me the rest of the numbers.”

Ten million dollars? There wasn’t any way. But just as he was opening his mouth to object again, an officer came to stand behind him. The heavy hand on his shoulder was painful, not to mention scary.

“All right. This is how this is going to go. You two will pay all this money back. I’m well aware that you have no money or jobs, and the likelihood of you getting one from prison is nil. So you’re going to spend your days working for the jail system at one hundred dollars a day.” It wasn’t much, but between the two of them they’d have some cash, Bishop thought. “In doing so, all money from your jobs from prison will go directly to Ellen Wolf. All of it.”

“Wait a fucking minute. Are you saying that we’re going to work in the prison, or that we’re going to be working while in prison? Neither one of those are an option for me. I have a social life, and that will just kill it.” The judge told Bethany to shut up again. “I will not shut up. I have something to say on my behalf. She should have worked harder on getting the right will and we’d not be in this shit right now.”

“You’re a moron.” The judge looked at Bishop after calling his sister that. “You too, if you want to know the truth. As of this day, you will be taken to prison, where you will spend the next, if my math is correct, one hundred and ninety years behind bars to pay off the bills and things that you’ve done to your stepmother.”

The banging of the gavel sounded so final that Bishop just sat there. They’d never get out. Never have any more fun. Not even get any of the money that they had to work for. This fucking sucked. As he was taken away again, Bishop realized his mistake. He’d fucked with the wrong person. And now he had to pay.