“Your brother and that terrible wife of his have decided to divorce.  Unfortunately, this is going to put some strain on him for the foreseeable future.  His money, the company money, is going to be frozen so that gold-digging little shit can’t get her hands on it.  That also means your shares in the company.  Until we can get everything in order, that is.”

“What the fuck!” I yell. “You can’t do that.  You don’t have control over my trust.”

Her eyes light and she laughs.  “That’s where you’re wrong, dear boy.  We had a clause put in that, if we feel like you’re unstable or that your life and those you are surrounding yourself with are unstable, the shares in the company that would have become yours at twenty-five go into my control until I deem you stable enough to release them back to you.  And honestly, Maddox, with you about to leave again—for god knows what and where—I don’t feel like you have the best interest of the company.  If you cared about the company and the trust you’ve been given of twenty-five percent of Locke Oil, then you would be doing the right thing and not playing little war games.”  She turns back to Mason, and not for the first time in my life, I want to grab her by the back of her hair and teach her a thing or two about who is in control of my life.  “But that’s neither here nor there now.”  Her smile is nothing short of pure evil.

“It really is a shame, brother, that you don’t pay more attention to the paperwork that the family lawyers send over to you,” he laughs, his eyes going back to Mercedes.

I try to remember what he’s talking about but keep coming up blank.  Shock and outrage that I’m once again being quite literally fucked by my own family is making it hard for me to concentrate.

“Think hard, little boy.  Remember when Jefferson brought you all those papers to sign?  Prenuptial agreements for your precious Mercedes to sign in light of your engagement.”

I growl at Masons mention of Mercedes.  They can treat me however they want, but I won’t let them hurt her.

“Oh, did I make you mad?”  He throws his head back and lets out a hardy laugh.  “You really are a complete jarhead now.”

My vision is starting to darken and I can feel the energy coming off me in waves.  I want blood.  I want to smash the smug-looking grins off their faces.  The ones that tell me, once again, that they have won.  I’m powerless when it comes to them and I fucking hate it.  The last thing I need to be stressing about before I’m shipping out is this bullshit.  I need my head clear.  I need to be focused.  And with just a five-minute conversation, they’ve blown that all to shit.

“I want to speak to Jefferson.” My voice sounds foreign even to my own ears.  The rage inside me is coming to a spilling point, and it’s taking everything I have in my not to go apeshit.

“And what do you think Jefferson can do for you, Maddox?  He’s our lawyer, and unless you have some hidden money in your thrift-store furniture at home, I doubt you can even afford the cost to call him on the phone.”  My mother laughs at her dig.

She’s right though.  I have nothing to fight with.  And since I’m leaving in less than a week, there isn’t any time to fix this until I get home.  I look over at Mercedes to find her staring at Mason with an expression that I can’t understand.  I clear my throat and she jumps at the sound.  Looking over at me, she gives me a small smile and shrugs her shoulders.  She’s never been one to jump into confrontation, which is another reason I’ve worked so hard to keep her away from my mother and brother.

“This isn’t over,” I tell them.

“That’s where you’re wrong, brother,” he says with a hard tone to his usual indifference towards me.

He takes a few steps towards where I’m standing, coming toe to toe with me.  I look into the face so different to my own.  Where I’m tan skin, black hair, and even blacker eyes, he is the complete opposite.  Light-brown hair, hazel eyes, and pale skin.  How have I never noticed the menacing darkness that swirls around him?

“Check.  Mate,” he snarls under his breath.

“You motherfucking bastard,” I yell, slamming my fist into his face.

He staggers back, wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth, and laughs.  He laughs in my face.

“I might be a bastard, Maddox, but right now, I’m a bastard that has complete control over you, and you will do best to remember your place.  Have fun on your little trip.  I trust you two can see yourselves out?”