Saving This (The McCallans #5) (3 page)

Chapter Four

“Your dad is a crafty bastard,” Cole smirked as he sat across from Max in his private home office.

They each occupied an Italian leather chair, and as Max sat back, trying to ready himself for whatever news his friend had for him, he wished he felt as calm as Cole looked. Six-foot-two, tattooed and fit, the guy was a lethal MMA fighter by hobby. But for a dude who could kick someone’s ass in a heartbeat, he was one of the calmest guys Max knew.

“Okay, so hit me with it,” Max said, taking a deep breath to prepare himself. He even got up and took a shot of whiskey, just to calm his nerves. He offered one to Cole but he declined.

“You can relax, it’s nothing too mind-shattering. I’m even sure you won’t be surprised.”

“Hm, easy for you to say.” He returned to his seat and waited.

Cole shrugged with a slight smile. “Noted. I have my own daddy issues, so I get it. My own family shit? Mind blown,” he muttered. “Anyway, I went as far as your dad’s will.”

Max raised an eyebrow. He didn’t even
want
to ask how Cole managed that one, but the man was truly brilliant with a side of fearlessness.

“It was the only place for me to understand why the legal papers for the business are drawn up a certain way if you want out,” Cole explained.

Not following, Max shook his head in confusion. “I know he has a lengthy will, but I don’t understand. I can’t do anything with my portion of McC Studios—I know that much. But he can’t force me to be a part of it.”

“Nope, he can’t. You can absolutely walk away if you want. But he also won’t allow any other person into it for another fourteen years.”

Max felt the color drain from his face. “No, please don’t tell me he actually went there.”

“Yeah, of course he went there. It goes to Chase when he turns eighteen. However, it won’t if it’s still signed to you…or Teague.”

Exhaling a breath of air, Max sat there staring blankly across the room. It was so typical of his dad—anything he could do to keep his claws sunk deep into his sons’ lives.

“And what about my grandfather? Doesn’t he have a say? It’s his company to begin with. He holds the controlling percentage. Fifty-five percent. My dad has twenty-five and I have twenty.”

“Yes, Neil actually does out of the three of you, but it’s complicated.”

“Of course.”

Cole nodded his head. “Without getting too confusing… Your grandfather has granted your dad the power over that last third of the percentage—
your
portion of twenty percent. I’m sure it has to do with the order of inheritance and all that shit, but that’s why the legal specifications for your share are designed by your dad and not your grandfather. Craig literally has control over who holds
your
percentage. Right now your dad has granted it to you. But the only way you can keep it from being handed down to Chase is if you keep it yourself. If you walk away now, it automatically goes on hold and then to your son when he’s an adult—as per your father’s wishes—unless you or Teague hold that percentage instead.”

“You mean Teague could take it right now and my dad or grandpa can’t do anything about it? I mean not that he ever would but…?”

“Yep. That twenty percent of the partnership can only go to three people for the next fourteen years, as per legal specifications by your dad and grandpa: you, Teague, or Chase. And from there, only a direct McCallan descendent—any of your kids that came from your DNA; no cousins or any other relatives or adopted kids, etcetera—can ever be added to the company ownership. You’ll naturally move up the line when your father and grandfather are deceased, but that twenty percent will still only go through a direct descendent. Just like a royal chain,” he added with a smirk.

“God,” Max groaned. He paused for a second and then looked at Cole. “So you said my grandpa could change it but it’s complicated?
How
complicated?”

“I’m not a legal expert on that,” Cole raised his hands in protest.

“Just tell me what you know.”

“Okay, as far as I could understand, if you’re given more of the company than your dad… The only way that can happen—”

“Is through my grandfather,” Max sighed. “Like he’d hand over more of his fucking company,” he chuckled sarcastically. “He didn’t even want my dad to have twenty-five percent.”

Cole didn’t reply, seeming to allow Max the time to think.

“Is there anything else you came across?” he asked.

“Well, I came across a lot. Nothing that helps you, but if you want to know what’s in your father’s will—”

“No, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Are you sure?”

He eyed Cole for a moment. “Should I be concerned?”

“I don’t know, most people are curious.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Max chuckled. “How do you even come across this stuff? Oh my God, you could be a billionaire working for the right people. Or…wrong people, I guess.”

He shrugged. “Meh, not my thing. I don’t like to think of myself as an underdog, but I do like to help people who are getting the short end of the stick. Call it a reckoning of justice, if you will.”

“Hmm, so you’re an Avenger.”

“Except I work alone,” Cole smirked.

***

Max sat in his home office that night, staring at the computer screen. He had papers and notes spread across the desk around him, but he’d hit a wall with writing this latest scene. Too much of his father’s intricate web had been woven around his thoughts at the moment and he couldn’t concentrate.

He took another sip of tea and picked up one of Tate’s journal entries—a copy that he’d been given to use as a reference—and forced himself to refocus. Scanning it, he found the part he’d been trying to respectfully piece into a scene:

I didn’t even know where I was for the next few days. I’d been in and out of surgeries, all to fix my hip and pelvis that had been blown apart. They had me on so many drugs I barely knew my own name, but I do remember asking if my dick was still attached. Maybe that seems stupid, but apparently it’s something a lot of wounded soldiers ask.

The guy in the bed next to me would talk to me now and then, but I didn’t know what the hell he was saying or who the fuck he was. By the sixth day, I was in a small room by myself. They’d put me in isolation. Apparently I was scaring the shit out of other patients every time I’d yell for help—help for Shane—because I thought I was still in a warzone.

I would also yell things at the dark-eyed doctor that I was mistaking for a member of the enemy. I was triggering other soldiers’ flashbacks every time I’d start screaming phrases or begged that little baby at the bottom of the pit to hang on just a little bit longer.

Those bastards threw dead bodies—decapitated bodies—down there where I was stuck for three days. No food, no water, rotting corpses… And then a sound—a tiny movement—caught my attention. I could barely move the mangled bodies to get to it, I was so weak, but I couldn’t believe it. It was an infant—not older than six months, maybe—and she was still alive.

I have no idea how long I sat on my knees, staring at this tiny thing that was thrown down there to die. I honestly didn’t know if it would be better to let death take her home, or if I should save her. If I did keep her alive, it would only be to die shortly after. There was no way I could provide her food or water. I was so sure my team would be there to rescue me any minute, though. If they could save me, they could save the baby too, and I knew it was my sworn duty to preserve this little life however I could.

I picked her up, hardly knowing how to hold her naked body. She was filthy from head to toe—bloody too, but it wasn’t her own. She was making noises, and the longer I held her against my body, the more alert she seemed to get. I didn’t want them up above ground to hear her; I feared they’d spray bullets into our hellhole to be sure of our deaths. I hid in the darkest edge of the dirt hole, trying to keep this little girl alive but quiet. She was hungry but there was nothing I could do about it. I wasn’t even sure how I was still hanging on. I had multiple stab wounds, and a gunshot wound through my right side that I’d finally got to stop bleeding, but for what? One more day and I was going to die.

It took hindsight for me to realize that this baby had kept me alive another day. She was an angel of mercy, a phoenix that had risen from the ashes to give hope, just for my sake. She died the next morning—in my arms, snuggled against my chest—but she’d been quiet for some time until she finally took her last breath and I couldn’t bring her back. I’d been so focused on giving her comfort for her last hours I’d barely thought of my own plight. My team arrived in explosive fashion thirty minutes later. I gently nestled the baby girl in a woman’s robe and said a prayer for everyone’s souls.

Then I saw Shane’s face appear at the opening twenty feet above me. “You miss me, fucker?” he grinned.

Max wiped at his eyes, unashamed. It didn’t matter how many times he read it…it still affected him. He couldn’t imagine being in a situation like that, and looking at Tate today, you’d never know the horrific things he’d experienced. He had a solid grasp on life, a sense of humor, and a compassionate side that contended with the best of the best. He was a husband now and soon to be a father; he claimed his experiences and his continuous struggle with PTSD had made him the man he is today. A better one.

Gram Sullivan had once told Max: there are billions of people in the world, so think about the small handfuls that are in your life right now. How did they get there? What are they there for? What have you learned from them and what will you still learn?

She got him thinking on all sorts of levels more than once. She knew of his troubles with his father without him having to go into too much detail; he’d also told her what had happened with Olivia. He’d gone home that day, regretting the fact that he’d opened up to someone—practically a stranger—but the next time he visited Gram, she made no mention of Olivia and didn’t lecture him on a single issue in his life. All she did was listen and basically got him asking himself the tough questions later on.

“You just do what makes you feel good about yourself,”
she’d told him one day.
“As long as you’re happy with the legacy you’re leaving behind on the day you die, then you’ve lived your life right.”

Well, that made him think. If he were to die today, would he feel proud of what he’d accomplished? He never felt like he was a bad person, and had never set out to intentionally hurt someone. But everyone had a mix of darkness in them. Sometimes one side just shows stronger than the other.

Max was aware that Gram knew exactly how to steer a soul-searching conversation whenever he spoke with her, even when it wasn’t meant to be one. Or maybe it was. She was a smart lady, and just the thought made him smile.

His phone rang, reminding him he hadn’t switched it to silent. But it was a person he wanted to speak to, so he took the call.

“Hey, Mom, long time.”

“Hi, honey. And yes, I know how busy you are too. Every time I call you’re in the middle of something noisy or you’re in a rush.”

“Yeah, I know. But I’m at home right now. In my office. Where are you?”

“New York for the next week.”

“How was Scotland? And Ireland too, right?”

“Oh, so beautiful. You should definitely make time to see them. I’ve had such a wonderful time. It is the perfect breath of air out of Los Angeles.”

He mindlessly tapped a pencil on his desk. “Sounds nice. I’m thinking about some time away.”

“And Belize… Oh, my. I want to return. There’s a home there I just might be interested in.”

“Wow, Belize, huh? So how many more stops do you have? You’re back in the states now. Does that mean you’re done?”

His mom had been traveling the world for the past two years. He’d only seen her twice in that time; once when he met up with her in Japan, and another time when she came back for one of his movie premieres.

“I’m going to spend some time with my family in Chicago next week and then I’m heading back to L.A. I hope we can meet up. And please tell me what’s going on with Chase?”

Max filled her in so far. His mother had always been supportive of him, but she’d left Hollywood a decade ago to take a break from the industry on the west coast. She’d wanted him to do the same, and he did do a bit of filming in New York, but California had always been his home with the rest of his family.

After he gave her a brief rundown of Kate’s doings as of late, his mom sighed. “I hope you’re doing what you said you’d do, Max, or I’m going to have a fun time tracking her down when I get back.”

He lightly laughed. “Nah, Mom, stay out of it. I feel like there’s a right way to do this. Don’t get tangled up with Dad’s tactics.”

“Mmhmm,” she replied sarcastically. “Anyway, I’ll let you know when I get back to town, okay?”

“Alright, bye.”

She hung up without a goodbye or an ‘I love you’ or any other sort of warm compassion. His mom was a talented, successful woman…but she lacked personal affection. He attributed it to the way she’d grown up, which was similar to his father where families just weren’t openly loving and emotional with one another.