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“Calling for the help.” Chloe falls back laughing when I whack her in the head with a pillow.
“Everything okay?” he calls as I smack Whitley, too.
“How did they get in?” I can’t help but laugh.
“Don’t let her start bossing you around. New monied bitch.” Chloe snorts.
“New monied?” Marks asks. “She’s got?—”
“Shut it down, Marks.”
“Oh no, what does that mean?” Whit asks.
Fuck it.
“Means I get five million if I’m married before I turn thirty-five.”
“Don’t you dare take that boy’s money and break his heart, Gwen York!”
“Ew, yeah, don’t do that.” Whitley scrunches up her nose.
Oh, these bitches, I laugh to myself and decide to play along.
“You two are going to think less of me if I take his money? Would that makes me a whore in your eyes?”
“That man is in love with you and has been for years. You love him, too; it’s so obvious.” Chloe shakes her head. “Don’t make him pay you to?—”
“Nope, can’t do it,” I think out loud.
“Have you considered what that will do to that kind of love?” Whit shakes her head. “Eventually?—”
“My sack of shit father’s family is loaded,” I blurt out, unable to take anymore. “I have a trust that pays out if I get married before I’m thirty-five.”
“How do all my besties have rich sacks of shit dads?” Whitley asks, totally bent as she looks between us.
Then something else hits me. “Victims’ rights.” I scoot to the end of the bed. “Marks, victims?—”
“On it,” he says and turns to exit.
“What’s going on?” Chloe asks.
“We’ve been trying to figure out how to dole out the reward money for William and Janice’s arrests.”
“Reward money?” Chloe asks, following me out of the room.
“Our guy in California, Lawson, somehow managed to push for a reward from the state for the two fugitives.” I lean over Mark’s shoulder as he taps on his keyboard. “Long story short, we got them both. It covers Lawson ten percent for making it happen—all our hires, equipment, and taxes that need to be paid on the reward money. After all that, it leaves enough to give to you, Chloe, and not Cora’s father, who allowed himself to think with his dick.”
“Don’t be so fucking harsh, York,” Marks mumbles, and Chloe looks confused, which I totally understand.
“The money? To replenish Cora’s education fund. She can go to Rutgers.”
Marks adds, “There’s fifty G’s after that. I want to give it to Joe and?—”
“And I think he should learn a fucking lesson,” I cut him off.
Rolling his eyes, he looks at Chloe. “We decided that was your call. Another option for you and CeCe to split the?—”
“Why is it my call?” Chloe interrupts. “I didn’t get fucking shot or put in jail. No, that’s your reward.”
