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Fallon

One Week Later

T ucked away in a discreet location, a few trusted men gathered with me for a meeting about what had been going on in the company since Sylvia waltzed in and claimed it all as hers.

“Before we get to chatting, I want to say happy birthday to Miss Montgomery. You’ve come a long way, and you will take the world by storm, like your mother did. We are excited to see what you can do.” Evans led the secret meeting we were holding.

He offered a small box to me. “As a birthday present, this was released from your mother's will to be given to you today. When you go home, open it. Maybe it will give some insight into what you should do in coming weeks.”

Someone popped open a bottle and passed glasses around for everyone to take a shot with me as a newly donned twenty-one-year-old.

The energy was lighter despite the dark cloud that loomed over us. What Syliva would do, or had done was in the back of all our minds. Still, we took a day to celebrate my birthday in a final hurrah of how far we had come until we couldn’t continue.

“To Fallon!” Mr. Caldwell raised his glass.

“To Fallon!” The rest of them followed.

We drank up.

I kicked my feet up in the chair next to me. “You all have been great. I couldn’t have asked for better people to have my back. Despite this being an odd year, thanks for ringing in my birthday with me.”

A sudden boom near us went off.

Wasn’t it too early for thunderstorms? Odd weather.

It happened again.

Boom!

“What the fuck?” James stood to begin investigating, checking himself to ensure he had a gun on his hip.

He became more vigilant than ever around me. Life or death and all.

More commotion came from just outside the doors before they burst open with masked men with handguns running through the doors.

“Hands up! This is a robbery!”

Evans stood with his hands up. “Guys, I think–”

Bang!

He went still and blood seeped from his skull. Stumbling and gurgling, he fell to the floor, eyes going dead.

Fuck!

A couple of our men stood to return fire. Thank God for the good guys with guns.

Shots rang out and I plugged my ears, hoping to shield my hearing as James pulled me to the ground and back to the wall.

“Get in here,” his voice was low before he stood to return fire at the gunfight that broke out in the room.

Crouched in the corner holding my box, he opened a small exit path in the wall and shoved me through.

He let off a few more shots before his magazine ran out and he needed to reload. He dropped the magazine and fished out his other one. Before he had it in his gun, a shot hit him in the shoulder, sending him to the ground.

I looked at him, knowing he’d be a goner if I didn’t do something.

“James!” I called out.

Fuck it. I made my way back into the room where the men in masks were taking out my guys one by one, and if I wasn’t quick, James would be next.

I grabbed his good arm and pulled for him to come with me. He finally got his magazine into the gun, pointing and shooting, nailing two of the guys coming for us. Pulling on him again, we made it out into the adjoined room.

He held his bad arm. “The exit is this way. Let’s get you out of here. I have somewhere we can go.”

Shaking off the gunshot, he held onto me tightly, pulling me through until we were out into the trees.

Cars were on fire.

What the fuck is happening?

“Come on.” He scooped me up and started running.

Happy fucking birthday to me.