Page 46

Finn

T he morning sun shines down on Angel Falls, casting long shadows as Wyatt and I make our way to the bank.

My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of adrenaline and determination fueling each step.

I glance at Wyatt, who walks beside me, his jaw set and eyes focused.

We’ve been through hell, and now it’s time to take back what’s ours.

We reach the bank which is quite an imposing building, looking almost too pristine, for the rot we know lies inside. Pushing open the heavy glass doors, we step into the cool, sterile lobby. The receptionist gives us a polite smile, but it fades as she takes in our expressions.

“We’re here to see Mr. Oliver,” I say firmly, my voice carrying an edge that allows no argument.

The receptionist hesitates, then picks up the phone and murmurs something.

Moments later, a security guard appears, but we ignore him as we march towards Oliver’s office.

The guard falls back, clearly deciding it isn’t worth confronting us.

Maybe he even knows the shit that takes place within these walls and has had enough.

We burst into the office without knocking. Mr. Oliver flinches at our uninvited presence. His perpetually oily smile looks up in surprised disgust. Then his smile falters when he sees we come bearing… gifts. Our rights to our own property and a means to pay for it outright, to be exact.

“Finn, Wyatt, what’s the meaning of this?” he blusters, but there’s a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

I slam the briefcase on his desk, the contents rattling ominously. “We have the money, the life insurance, the bonds, and the gold,” I say, my voice cold. “We’re here to pay off the property in full.”

Oliver’s eyes widen, and he sputters, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no need for?—”

“Cut the shit, Oliver,” Wyatt snaps, stepping forward. “You tried to have us killed. Sure, you’re too much of a bitch to participate in it yourself, but we survived. If you try anything else against us or Wildwood, we’ll go straight to the FBI.”

“And yeah, we know about the sheriff as well,” I said. Not that we have any real evidence against the man, but I figure I’ll throw it out there and see what sticks.

Sweat beads on Oliver’s forehead, his face turning an alarming shade of red. “That’s preposterous! I would never?—”

“And that’s not all,” I continue, my voice steely. “If you don’t leave town, we’ll still press charges. We don’t ever want to see you around here again.”

Oliver looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. His breath comes in short, panicked gasps, his eyes darting around the room as if seeking an escape. “You can’t do this,” he wheezes.

“We can, and we will,” Wyatt says, his tone final. “Now, hand over the fucking paperwork. Give us the deed or you’re finished.”

For a moment, I think Oliver might refuse. His hands shake as he fumbles with a drawer, finally pulling out a thick folder. He flips through it with trembling fingers, extracting the deed with a defeated sigh. He holds it out, and I snatch it from his grasp.

“They… won’t let you get away with this,” Oliver mutters, but the fight has gone out of him. “They won’t let me…” His voice trails off with a defeated tone.

“We already have,” I say, feeling a surge of triumph. Wyatt and I turn and walk out of the office, the deed clutched tightly in my hand.

As we step back into the sunlight, I reach for Wyatt’s hand. He grips it firmly, and we walk away from the bank, the weight of our victory lightening our steps.

We did it. We’ve taken back what’s ours, and Oliver won’t be a problem anymore. With Wildwood safe and the deed in our possession, the future finally feels secure. I glance at Wyatt, who meets my gaze with a smile, and I know that as long as we’re together, we can face anything.

“Shall we go give the good news to Miranda and Doris?” I ask.

“Absolutely,” he says with a smile. We run to our vehicle and slip into the front seats. “I can’t wait to see their faces when we tell them we have nothing to worry about… ever again.”