Badly Behaved

Instantly, Monti spins to me, but I throw my hands up, backing away as I will my lungs to open.

“Jameson—”

“I need a minute.” I turn, my exhale choppy, making me lightheaded.

I look to my hands, my body trembling in place.

Holy shit.

That just happened.

I press the heels of my palms into my eye sockets and drag my hands down my face as I step out onto the open balcony. Gripping the railing, I lean back, stretching my arms wide and bend at the waist, breathing long and deep a few more times.

I wait for the guilt, expecting it to hit me hard, but I don’t feel it the least bit.

I do feel anxious, but I think it stems from a good place as butterflies are erupting in my stomach rather than a rope twisting around it. It’s as if opportunity’s rising inside of me for the first time, liberating me. My spine tingles, and I inhale through my nose, quickly releasing it through my mouth.

“She said she needs a minute,” I hear Beretta say.

“Uh-huh, yeah. Down, boy. That’s my sister,” Monti snaps. “I think I know what she needs.”

“And I know what she likes,” he fires back. “And one thing she likes is to be left alone when she asks.”

Ransom’s hand falls on my back and I straighten, shifting slightly to lean my left shoulder against his chest. My head tips, my temple resting at his chin. I close my eyes, but they open when feet pad closer.

Wide-eyed, Monti joins us on the balcony, crossing her arms as the ocean chill reaches her skin. “What am I missing?” she asks, shaking her head. “Jameson, what the hell just happened?” There’s no anger in her tone, only confusion and shock, both understandable.

I feel the same, but not in the same context.

Confused about what to do now.

Shocked at how quickly things have happened.

Last night, something was keeping me awake and I knew exactly what it was, just as I knew my mom never did anything without a reason. My gut told me her leaving the little box on my nightstand was no different; she wanted me to open it.

I was forced to face how sensitive time truly is earlier that morning, so I took no chances.

I opened the lockbox and sat awake for several hours, reading over as many of the documents tucked inside it as I could, trying to make sense of what I was looking at. Once I got to the final document, I woke up the boys.

Everything clicked, and I had to decide where to go from there.

In the end, and with Ransom in my corner, there was only one direction that would do. I think my mom knew it as well as I did, and I would bet it’s why she gave it to me in the first place.

Whether she liked it or not, my mom saw the fight blooming in me that only comes along with having someone to fight for. For the first time, she wasn’t selfish and allowed me to be.

But in true Filano fashion, not without a lesson in strength.

She gave me all I needed, the gun and the bullets, but at the end of the day, I had to be the one to pull the trigger, to take what I want, and pave my own path.

To fight for the future that I desire… the one I deserve.

Not the one she arranged, or the one Monti bailed on, but the ending meant to be mine with the person made for me.

Nothing else mattered anymore, not what my mom had to offer or the money she held over my head. It meant nothing without Ransom, so I made my choice, and it was an easy, clear one.

There was no hesitation and I aimed for the head.

I turned my mother in without a second thought, using information she provided me with. Anonymously.

I have to admit, I didn’t anticipate such a quick response, but I guess it’s considered high priority when accusations claiming the woman who represents the largest crime ring in the Florida area is as dirty as her client list begins to surface.

So what the hell happened?

I took control.

I reclaimed my life.

I let love in.

I let love win.

I look to Monti. “Her choices determined her consequences.”

Monti blinks, and blinks again. “I don’t understand.”

“The box, Monti. You’re the one who gave me the key, told me there was a gift inside. You knew what she had to hide.”

“Yeah.” She nods, incredulously. “The deed to this house, Dad’s will, checks and bonds dated with our eighteenth birthdays.”

I push off Ransom. “Wait, what?”

“I had to wait for your birthday to tell you in case she tried to pull something crazy while you were still a minor. I was trying to be cautious.”

“Monti, what are you talking about?”

She nods, spinning around, and slowly, we follow her into the house.