Jackpot: Chapters 30–36

Like cool, he’s seeing his privilege or whatever, but the fact that I was some kind of catalyst is...uncomfortable for some reason.

Within a couple of hours, I’m sitting in the ER in front of a pretty, brown-skinned triage nurse with a sleeping Jax curled up in my lap.

As soon as she pulls the thing out of his mouth, his head drops back against my shoulder and he’s asleep again.
“How long has he been lethargic like this?”

Jax starts convulsing in my arms. His eyes roll back in his head, drool spills out of his mouth onto my collarbone, and my lap is suddenly very warm and very wet.

It all seems so trivial looking back. Macklin and I talked for over an hour about choices, but all I can think about now, looking at the bags and tubes and monitors attached to my baby brother, is how much this is gonna cost and how we have no money to pay for it.

It’s another five (excruciating) days before I manage to get all my ducks in a row...

The tonic-clonic seizure (with urination) Jax had in my lap has played in my mind on a loop from the moment I wake up in the mornings until I collapse into bed at night.

I’ll ask if maybe she can lend me some money I can put toward keeping us afloat and paying some of Jax’s medical bills, and I’ll spend however long it takes doing whatever she wants to work it off (indentured servitude, essentially).

I will not be snuffed away into oblivion as if I never existed.

“He had a rough day today,” she says. “Ms. Danger was here for a few hours this afternoon, but she left when Jaxon fell asleep. He’s been inconsolable since he woke up and couldn’t find her.”

I will read and forget where I am: classic escapism.

With all the brouhaha, I forgot we’re in his hospital room.

Finesse reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a rolled-up paper—actually, based on the color of the thing, parchment is probably more accurate—tied with a red ribbon.

“Hear ye, hear ye: the illustrious and dashingly handsome Sir Alexander Gustavo of House Macklin hath traveled far, wide, high, and deep, over mountains, through valleys, and into and out of the churning belly of a volcano, for the sake of presenting thou, O beautiful and brazen Lady Rico Renée of House Danger, with a most heartfelt and positively irresistible proposition. Hast thou the ear to hear?”

Mama cuts him a look that could wither all the foliage in the room.

“As I was saying, there is none more pure of heart, mind, nor beauty in all this vast and treacherous wilderness known as life.”

He smiles. “Your right hand, please.”
I raise an eyebrow and warily extend my hand.

“Rico Danger,” he says, “wouldst thou grant me the honor of permission to escort thee to the promenade?”

Perhaps this is retribution?

He sighs then. “God, I thought we were done with this.” Runs his hands down his face. Exasperated. And patronizing.

When he finally opens his mouth to speak again, I’m expecting him to ask why I didn’t tell him. Righteous indignation of Alexander Gustavo Macklin, prince rescuer of the damsel in distress.

“You pulled me into this under the guise of doing a good deed for an old lady. Has it always been about getting what you need?”

The happy lovebirds stop by the Gas ’n’ Go on their way out, thankfully. I keep my composure, but I’m sad to see them go.

I call out of both jobs on the lotto ticket redemption deadline day and spend the entire thing curled up in bed, mulling over stuff I usually avoid thinking about.

Once we’re inside and seated, he says, "Order whatever you like, but I suggest the shrimp and grits. They’re to die for.”

“The grantor has asked to remain anonymous, but Dover Financial was appointed trustee, and you, Rico Danger, were named one of the beneficiaries. In layman’s terms, that means I manage the trust, but the money gets paid to you.”

“The 529s can be used solely to cover college or university tuition costs. Use of the monthly funds will be at your discretion, but as the assigned advisor for the trust itself, I am available to discuss any options you’d be interested in exploring: investments, charitable giving, major purchases, I’m your guy.”

They hit it off a little more than I’m expressly comfortable with, but what can I do?

He wasn’t allowed to disclose the name of the beneficiary for the other trust, but come on.

Just so you know, that room over there is still yours if you want it. I know we had our little tiff, but offer stands for you to move in.