F-BOMB: Curvy Vigilantes 7: Flee
Auteur
Mary E Thompson
Lezers
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Hoofdstukken
25
Chapter 1
Dawn Patterson blinked away tears as she read the latest text from her ex-husband.
Savannah doesn’t want to go to dinner Friday night.
Her first instinct was to threaten Owen with a call from her lawyer, reminding him of the custody agreement they had and that she was entitled to one dinner a month alone with their daughter, but Dawn was trying to be better. It wasn’t easy, but she was trying.
Okay.
Dawn shoved the phone back into her pocket and drew a deep breath. Making a fourteen-year-old do something she didn’t want to do would only create bigger problems. Dawn needed to be patient.
And she needed to focus on work. She always saved her favorite patient for last, and today, she needed the confidence and joy from the man more than most days.
Dawn waved her hand beneath the automatic hand sanitizer dispenser and rubbed her hands together as she walked into the room.
Robert Davis lay in his bed, his head propped up with too many pillows as he struggled to breathe. His pale skin was wrinkled and weathered, but his light brown eyes were still bright and full of life. It was like his body was trying to drag his mind out of the world and into the afterlife.
“Jeez, what did they do to you?” Dawn asked, hurrying to Mr. Davis. She pulled one of the pillows from behind his head and lowered the head of his hospital bed.
“You just take my breath away,” Mr. Davis said with a wheeze and a smile.
Dawn chuckled with him and shook her head. “You’re good for my ego.”
“If only I were five decades younger…”
Dawn laughed at the old joke. It had become his favorite line with her over the last year—a year where Dawn had fought with everything she had to begin to rebuild her life.
A life where her daughter still wanted nothing to do with her and her ex-husband was the eternal good guy.
“How are you feeling now that you can breathe again?” Dawn unwound the stethoscope from around her neck and checked his heart and lungs. Still okay, but slower. Every day they were getting slower.
“Like I’m fifty years old again.”
Dawn grinned. She knew he didn’t feel fifty again, but he never complained. She sat on the edge of his bed. “How do you really feel?”
He sighed, the sound pulling his eternal grin down just a touch. “I’m tired, honey.”
“I know.” Dawn patted the man’s hand. She loved the work she did. What started as a penance enacted on herself became work she had a passion for. A part of her felt guilty for enjoying the job when she went into the work to atone for her many, many sins, but she knew what she was doing was helping people.
“How come you’re still here? I thought you got off at five.”
Dawn shrugged. “No reason to rush home.”
“That’ll change one day. Owen and Savannah will realize what they’re missing by keeping you at arm’s length.”
The kind words brought tears back to Dawn’s eyes. Not because she wished Mr. Davis was right, but because he had such faith in her, even though he knew everything she’d done. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. Savannah just canceled dinner for Friday night.”
“I thought that was court-ordered,” Mr. Davis barked. He tried to push himself upright, indignant that her life wasn’t going as planned.
Dawn pushed his shoulders so he’d lie down again. “It is, but I can’t force her to have a relationship with me.”
Mr. Davis shook his head. “You can’t give up on her. I gave up on my sons. Both of them became people I didn’t recognize. I put all of myself into work and didn’t pay enough attention to them. I wish I’d made different choices. It’s my biggest regret. I don’t want you to have the same one when you’re on your deathbed.”
“You’re not on your deathbed just yet,” Dawn told him, not wanting to think about the man not being around.
“Dawn,” he said, gripping her hand with far more strength than she expected from the frail man. “I know you think I’m a crazy old man, but please listen to me. Do whatever it takes to fix your relationship with Savannah. If you’re not interested in getting back together with Owen, don’t think twice about that, but Savannah matters.”
Dawn nodded, knowing the man was speaking from experience and not just offering bland advice.
“When my wife died, I let myself get lost in work. I let myself ignore my sons. If I could go back, I would, but I lost them both a long time ago. By the time I tried, it was too late to reach them.”
“I will. I promise.”
Mr. Davis nodded, relaxing once more, his grip failing as he sank against the bed. His face relaxed, sleep coming for him. “I apologize. I hate to see you repeating my mistakes.”
“Thank you. I know. I’m not sure Savannah will ever forgive me, but you’re right. I need to try. I need to make sure she knows I’ve changed.”
Mr. Davis nodded. “Good. I apologize for fading on you, but I know I’m not going to be awake much longer.”
“You never have to apologize to me for anything. Rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Mr. Davis nodded, his eyes falling closed as he fell asleep just that quickly.
Dawn finished her work for the day and headed home. Her apartment was empty and lonely and depressing, but it was one more piece of her penance. One more thing to remind her she owed her life to others—to the nine-one-one operator who kept Savannah calm that night, and to the firefighters and paramedics who saved Dawn’s life.
Rock bottom hurt. But it worked. Dawn turned her life around after that night, but she couldn’t erase all the pain she caused. All she could hope for was forgiveness one day.
Clearly, not today.
* * *
Gage
Gage Stevens reached for the phone as he keyed in his password to unlock his computer. He’d barely made it into his office and had just spoken to his assistant, Betsy.
“Yeah?” Gage asked into the phone.
“You have a call, Mr. Stevens.” It didn’t matter how many times Gage told her to call him by his first name; the older woman refused. She said she’d never called a boss by his first name and didn’t intend to start now, even though she claimed to be old enough to be his mother.
“Can you take a message?”
“It’s Mr. Davis.”
Gage sighed. Mr. Davis was a longtime client, and he was nearing the end of his life. Gage knew it, and Mr. Davis knew it. Gage never refused the man’s calls—not when any of them could be the last one.
“Line two,” Betsy said, knowing Gage was going to take the call.
“Good morning,” Gage said into the phone.
“I woke up, so I guess I’ll agree with you for now,” Mr. Davis said. Robert was a friendly man and a wealthy man. Over the years, Gage had grown to respect him.
But Mr. Davis had secrets—secrets Gage had never been able to get out of him.
“What can I do for you today?” Gage asked, knowing Mr. Davis didn’t tolerate small talk or beating around the bush.
“I need to make an amendment.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want to change my beneficiary.”
“You can’t possibly be serious,” Gage said. As much as Gage hated it, Mr. Davis’s only son was his heir and would inherit a seven-figure company. They’d spoken many times about it, and Mr. Davis was reluctant to hand that kind of money over to his son, but with no other family, he had few choices and had eliminated all of them.
“We both know the end is coming for me, Gage. And Trevor is getting more and more erratic. I can’t. I have no proof, but we both know what he’s doing isn’t good. I can’t sit back and know my company is going to be used for criminal activity. My name will be tarnished, and my employees will be out on the streets—if they survive.”
“He’s going to be furious,” Gage whispered. Trevor Davis was a crazy son-of-a-bitch. The man was unhinged and deadly. Gage had no proof either, but he had every reason to believe Trevor was involved in some of the events happening in Niagara Falls recently.
And attorney-client privilege kept him from sharing his worries with the police department because everything Gage suspected was based on conversations Gage had with Robert.
“Yeah, he is. But with my money, he’s going to burn the city. It won’t be safe for anyone.”
Gage sighed. Robert was right. Gage knew he was right. But it was going to be hell when Trevor found out. “Okay. Who do you want to leave everything to?”
“Dawn Patterson.”
“Who is that?”
“She’s a nurse here. She’s had a lot of shit happen in her life, and she’s a good person. She deserves this more than Trevor. She will honor my company.”
“Trevor is going to go after her.”
“That’s why you’re not going to let him know about her.”
Gage sucked in a breath. “I’ll draw up the paperwork and come by in an hour.” There was no time to waste when the client was so close to the end. “I need witnesses.”
“I’ll have the doctor here,” Mr. Davis said. He understood. Someone had to be there to confirm Mr. Davis was of sound mind when he was making a decision like the one he proposed. Otherwise, it would all be for nothing.
“See you then.” Gage hung up the phone and dropped his head into his hands. Dealing with clients at the end of their lives was always tough, but this was pushing it.
Gage pushed aside his thoughts and started on the new paperwork. He made all the changes that needed to be made and printed out everything Mr. Davis needed to sign.
An hour after their call, Gage walked into Mr. Davis’s room. Both a doctor and a nurse were in the room, talking to Mr. Davis.
“Mr. Stevens?” the doctor asked.
Gage nodded and shook her hand.
“Dr. Walden. Mandy and I were doing the cognitive exam, and I can certify that Mr. Davis is of sound mind and capable of making this change of his own free will.”
“Thank you, Dr. Walden. And Mandy.”
The nurse nodded.
“Will you both be willing to sign as witnesses to Mr. Davis?” Gage asked them.
“Of course,” they said at the same time.
Gage went through the changes he made, including the name of the woman Mr. Davis had chosen as his new beneficiary. At her name, the doctor and nurse both gasped.
Gage spared them a glance, but Mr. Davis didn’t flinch.
“Sign here, sir,” Gage told Mr. Davis. They’d been through this before. Every few years, Mr. Davis updated his will with his current assets, ensuring nothing was left out. He signed his name with the familiar care he always used, his hand moving slowly so there was no mistaking his signature.
Gage took the paperwork from him when he was finished and set it on the table in front of Dr. Walden and Mandy. “If you would both sign beneath his as witnesses to his signature.”
Dr. Walden signed first, then slid the paperwork in front of Mandy. When both were done, Gage confirmed their signatures and names, then stamped it as the notary of record.
“I will file this with the court today and keep the originals, as always.”
Mr. Davis nodded, understanding what Gage wasn’t saying. If it was only in his office, and Trevor got to it, he could destroy the updated will and claim he was the sole heir.
“Do you need anything else from us?” Dr. Walden asked.
Gage shook his head. “Thank you both for your time.”
They nodded and excused themselves from the room, their whispered voices disappearing when they were outside.
“I take it they know Ms. Patterson?”
Mr. Davis nodded.
“Is there something I should know about her?”
Mr. Davis shook his head. “All you need to know is she’s the best person to do this. It won’t be easy for her, but Dawn deserves a break.”
Gage sighed. Mr. Davis had a big heart. He was always giving back, donating his entire salary to local charities for the last decade he worked. With no major expenses and plenty of savings, he insisted on helping others. He was generous with his bonus structure and rewarded loyalty and exceptional work.
Gage took his answer to mean Dawn Patterson had some trouble, and Mr. Davis decided she was his latest charity project.
Maybe he’d change his mind. Maybe she’d never know about the lottery ticket he would be handing her.
But like any lottery ticket, it came with strings—ones that could either set a person free or kill them.
Gage hoped the woman knew how to free herself.
* * *
Trevor
Trevor Davis walked down the hallway toward his father’s room. He hated the place, but it was the only way he could see his father anymore. And the only way the grumpy bastard would give Trevor money.
Trevor stepped into the room, spotting a fat nurse sitting on the edge of the bed.
“It’ll get better,” his father said, patting the woman’s hand like she was important. Like she mattered. Instead of like she was the damn help.
“Dad,” Trevor growled, letting them know he was there.
The fat nurse jumped, spinning to face him with a guilty look on her face. She smoothed the purple scrubs over her chunky stomach and pressed her hands into wide hips.
Trevor let his gaze trail over her. He liked the big ones. Once they got hooked on drugs, they lost weight, forgetting to care about food and choosing drugs only. She’d be a good fuck. Fat bitches had tight pussies because no one else liked to fuck them.
“Trevor,” his father said, the encouraging tone he’d used with the fat chick replaced by one of disdain. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ll just let you two talk,” the nurse said. She made her way around Trevor, giving him space like she couldn’t bear the thought of touching him.
Trevor stepped in her path and ran a hand down her cheek.
She swallowed roughly. “Excuse me.”
“Let her be,” his father barked.
Trevor smiled, letting his gaze run down her chunky body again. Yeah, he’d enjoy a go at her. It had definitely been a while since a man put his hands on her. Trevor would pound her into submission.
She stepped around Trevor and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Trevor sneered. He delighted in making others uncomfortable—made him hard. If his dad wasn’t glaring at him, Trevor would have stroked one out right then and there, but the miserable bastard was watching him. “What?”
“You’re the one who showed up at my home. What do you want?”
“Money. I’m almost out. I need ten grand.”
“I gave you ten grand last week.”
“And I spent it. Now, I need more.”
“What are you doing with all this money, Trevor?”
“What the fuck do you care? You haven’t worried about me since I was nine and Mom died. Fuck, you probably didn’t worry about me then. She did.”
“I always worried about you.”
“Could have fucking fooled me,” Trevor spat. He hated his father. All he’d ever done was disappear. Trevor and his older brother, Clyde, had to learn to take care of themselves. And they did—by taking what they wanted.
Their father never gave a shit. Not until Trevor no longer needed a father.
“One day you’re not going to be able to get my money,” his father said, almost sounding sad at the admission.
“Because you’ll be dead? Yeah, I’m counting the days, old man.”
His father grimaced. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and eased himself upright. He walked across the small room to the dresser where he kept his cash. He unlocked the safe and retrieved rolls of bills. He counted them quickly, then locked the box again and turned to Trevor.
“I’m sorry I was such a horrible father.”
“Whatever. When I inherit all your money, I’ll appreciate the fact that you only cared about your company and never about me.” Trevor turned to leave.
“You’re not going to inherit my money,” his father whispered.
Trevor stopped halfway to the door. He had to have heard him wrong. “What did you say?”
His father straightened when Trevor turned back to him. He held himself upright, but the exhaustion on his face betrayed the false bravado of his posture. “I said you’re not going to inherit my money. I changed my will.”
“The fuck you did.”
“It’s already done, Trevor. I can’t have you destroying my company. You’ll—”
Trevor was on his father so quickly he didn’t even remember moving. He wrapped a hand around the man’s throat and guided him to the bed. “You never cared about me. That company was all that ever mattered to you.”
His father shook his head, the movement just enough to break Trevor’s hold. His father sank to the bed, knocking a pillow onto the floor. “That’s not true. I loved you and your brother. I would have done anything for you two.”
“Except give me your company. You are treating me no better than a dog in the street, rejecting me and refusing to give me what I’ve earned.”
“How did you earn it? You’ve never worked there a day in your life!”
“I earned it by being born. I earned it by surviving. I earned it by sharing your blood. And I will have what I earned.”
Trevor picked up the pillow from the floor. He held it between his hands and pressed it over his father’s face.
The old man’s feet kicked. He fought against the pillow. He tried to scream, but the pillow drowned out the sound. He grabbed at Trevor’s hands, but Trevor held still.
Until his father stopped fighting.
Trevor removed the pillow from his father’s face. Terrified eyes stared up at him. Vacant. Hollow. Dead.
It was the most loving look his father had ever given him—the one Trevor would remember for the rest of his life.
He fluffed the pillow and put it behind his father’s head. He positioned him so it looked like he was sleeping. Then Trevor left the room with his money and a promise to himself that he would get what he deserved—every last penny.
