Page 151 of A Million To Fall

The bailiff moves to escort my mom out. She looks back over her shoulder at me, giving me a tired smile. I return it with a pathetic thumbs-up.

“I love you, Boss,” she mouths, then disappears through the door.

By the time I step into the hallway, it’s nearly deserted.

I make it maybe thirty feet before a gruff voice jerks me to a halt.

“Mr. Rawlings, may I have a word!”

It sounds decidedly more like a tell than an ask.

I turn to see Mr. Longfellow striding toward me, leather briefcase clutched in his hand.

I’m surprised he knows who I am and that I was in the courtroom. I didn’t see him so much as glance in my direction, and we met exactly once for ten seconds.

“I hope you’re pleased with the outcome of today’s proceedings,” he says in a tone that, though it’s light, still causes the hairs on my neck to stand. “Your mother faced quite a bit of prison time given the rather extensive drug and prostitution charges the District Attorney’s office lodged against her following the raid earlier this year.”

I nod. “Yeah, I… it’s very kind of you to offer her to enroll in a program. I think she—”

“Kindness has absolutely nothing to do with it.” His brown eyes bore into mine, face hardening. “However, it has everything to do with you.”

My brow creases.

“And my family,” he continues, voice low. “More specifically with my son, Archer. And his girlfriend. I think you know her—Skye Monroe?”

I don’t say anything. I don’t need to.

“I don’t know what it is exactly that’s going on between you or why she harbors such fondness for you, but she advocated very passionately for your mother.”

My heart stumbles.

“You should know something about me, Mr. Rawlings: I will not tolerate anyone meddling with my family. And seeing as Skye is with my son, that includes her. So here’s what I’d urge you to pay close attention to: the dismissal of your mother’s significant criminal charges is dependent on her successful completion of the diversion program. Even a small slip-up—say, another arrest or new criminal allegations—will result in a trial and likely conviction. I presume that’s not something you’d want for your mother.”

I shake my head once.

“That’s what I thought. I’m only going to say this once: you’d be wise to stay away from Skye. Far, far away. Don’t interfere with my family, Mr. Rawlings. That’s a fight you don’t want to pick.”

He pauses. Studies me. “Do we have an understanding?”

Fucking great, yet another rich asshole who thinks he can blackmail me into doing what he believes he’s entitled to. A very real part of me wants to throat punch this fucker right here, right now. The fuck is he to tell me who I can and cannot be with? But it’s once again the thought of my siblings that keeps my mouth clamped shut. They don’t need to grow up with the stigma of their mother being a convicted felon, don’t need to spend the next however many years visiting her in prison or not seeing her at all.

“Do we have an understanding, Mr. Rawlings?” Mr. Longfellow repeats, voice lower still.

I nod.

His face breaks into a smile, posture relaxing. “Good.”

He walks away without sparing me another glance.

I stand in the quiet hallway for a moment longer. Processing.

And it clicks.

That’s what Skye meant when she said that, today, I’d understand. Why she had to walk away from me.

Because she, too, made a deal with the devil.

For me.