Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS and I am making no money writing this fan fiction
Beta reader: Mike91848 again, thanks Mike. All mistakes are therefore mine.
Warning: This story does contain a lot of flashbacks and OC's. All of the OC'S have been introduced and are now in place. Just a warning in case you don't like reading about them. And there is more cussin' ahead.
CINDERELLA REVISITED
Chapter Four
Flashback continues
Tony stayed at his grandmother's crypt site for half an hour while the Trent's walked the grounds. He told her about everything that had happened during the memorial her family had held for her and how he was going to notify her true friends. They wouldn't all be able to gather together, but he had heard about telephone conferencing. Maybe they could all get on the phone and have a minute of silence and private prayer for her.
Grandma, my family still hates me. I know it's their problem, not mine and that I've done nothing wrong. I don't want to have anything to do with them, they just tear me down. And I don't want to hate them anymore, either. I just want them to leave me alone!
Cause I'm telling you, grandma, that kid Anton, he has all this rage inside of him, and it's all against me. He doesn't even know me and after five years, you'd think he'd have mellowed out a little. But, grandma, he was ready to seriously hurt me, him and his gestapo gang of thugs. You should have seen his face, geez. Did I kill his dog or something?
Betty says it's his bitchy mother's fault. And don't be scolding me for cussing, grandma, cause I've heard you say bitch loads of times. But yeah, anyway that bitch has polluted that kid's mind with her crazy hate vendetta and he's too stupid to figure it out.
And the other one, An toe ney, the traitor, what a joke. He just stands around staring and blinking, never opened his mouth once. Just let his crazy bitch mother and psycho, future ax-murdering brother have all the action. Do you think Anton's into the skinning of small animal's alive stage yet, grandma, you would know, being dead and all, right?
Yeah and grandma, I don't know what the mom of the psycho has going on up her sleeve right now, cause I practically tore her kids arm off and she didn't come after me with a tire iron or her stilettos, or even look at me. Ooh, scary.
Oh, yeah, one other thing, after the commotion started, your youngest disappointment, and now I'm quoting you, grandma, was nowhere to be found, probably inside a bottle, somewhere, the cowardly prick.
Your oldest failure, Uncle Fred, who by the way, still has a yellow streak down his back instead of a good solid backbone, cause he only came after me after a nod from the bitch, tried to stop me from leaving. He said, 'you have a lot of splainin to do'. The Trent's thought it was pretty funny, cause I mentioned the ass kissing thing and called him Ricky. You had to be there, grandma, to appreciate the moment.
You know something I just realized, grandma? I've been around a lot of raunchy, foul mouth and cussin', horny [yeah I'm talking about you grandma, you think I don't know what you and Janes were doing] people all my life. Yeah, all of them even the grudge holders and the sneaky bastards were my closest companions before I could even walk. Why do you think I can cuss in three languages, huh grandma?
You, the Trent's, Cookie; oh yeah talk about holding a grudge, if I were the bitch, I wouldn't eat anything that woman concocted; the handymen, servants and grounds- keepers, they could turn ice to steam when they got to talking their shit. And Janes, boy, he is one creepy dude when he gets all silent and moody.
The best people I ever could have been raised by, grandma, the best!
Goodbye, grandma, I don't want to start crying, I'll ball all the way home if I do and it won't be pretty, even though the Trent's won't mind. I'm...I'm just gonna miss you so much. I love you grandma.
The next day, Tony got his mail from the school office, approximately 100 letters they had been saving for five years. Emancipation had its benefits for sure. Janes' letter, dated two weeks ago, was included in the pile. The office clerk who they paid to pass on letters from Janes and Caroline was on her honeymoon so the letter from Janes telling him of his grandmother's death had sat unread.
Tony read between the lines and filled in what Janes didn't say. Janes' soulmate was dead and the man was devastated. Cookie's note, included in the letter, said there was miscommunication and they didn't find Caroline until it was too late. Cookie said she spoke to Caroline when she flew in for his graduation and she was fine.
The small stroke she had, she could have recovered from if she hadn't laid on the motel room floor for two days. Cookie didn't say much else. So outspoken most of the time, her letter was devoid of blame or condemnation, probably to spare him the spiteful, malicious and hateful thoughts she had towards anything DiNozzo.
Tony carefully folded the letter and placed it in the box with his other important papers. The other letters he would read when he had more time and inclination. He stood at a dorm window morosely contemplating the cloudy sky outside. Rain anxiously waited as the thunderclaps got louder and closer together while the lightning remained in readiness to take its turn to strike. The breeze from the partially opened window brought the earthy smell of green life past and molding.
If he didn't leave now he'd be making a mad dash to the cafeteria in the rain for dinner though the last thing on his mind was food. What he had to do though was eat, keep up his strength for the upcoming game, plus the coach said he was still growing and he needed that extra 2 inches to get him past the 6 foot mark to compete with where the big boys were.
If he could just not feel this debilitating regret and sadness that he had let his grandmother down. Coach said he had to take time to mourn, it was human nature, even some animals mourn the loss of a loved one, and not let melancholy become his life and weigh him down into the pit where there would be no return. Coach actually talked like that sometimes, an actual closet poet in sweats with a whistle.
Perhaps he and Anton DiNozzo had a lot more in common than just being brothers and despising each other. Maybe they were both potential psychos. They both hated deeply and for ages plotted revenge. Except unlike Anton, he didn't scream it out at the top of his lungs. Instead, he kept his deepest, darkest desire locked down tight because the reality of it would make him into a monster of the innocent, the real terror that lived in a child's closet to swoop out and harm. Intimate death by something sharp, up close, personal of everyone who had ever looked straight at him and saw absolutely no one.
His mother and her husband and their children if she had any. His father, his stepmother, his uncle, his uncle's family, his half-brothers, and finally, himself would all die in agony by something sharp held in his own hand, sliced into and down again and again because they had decreed him unfit to live and so he had condemned them to death.
His thoughts were graphically uninhibited. He could feel his hand holding the cold steel of the knife. He would pull the warm body close to him as though sweetly forgiving their transgressions against him. He would brush his lips against their cheek, clutching them eagerly closer and wrap his arm around their back in a loving embrace. He would lean over as though to whisper a secret. And he would be gentle and slow so as to savor the moment as he slid the hidden knife into their gut.
He remembered his terror as the stepmother had told his four year old quaking self once that being stabbed in the gut was the slowest, most painful way to die, as she loomed over him with a shiny letter opener raised high in her hand.
Each family member would be so un-expecting that when they felt the first pain, they would experience that same terror and would look at his grinning, happy face in confusion until the knife plunged down and out. He would hold the knife aloft so they could see the bright blood, their blood, and they would recognize that he could do more than just clean the toilets and shovel out the stables.
Ah, God, their agony would be so great, bent over unbelieving, trying to hold their sliced-open bowels inside, the stink of them permeating the room. He would do each child first so their parents could watch as their life blood oozed from the deep gouges in their tiny bellies...
Tony turned from the window and ran from his thoughts just as the torrent of rain began. He got to the bathroom gagging and vomiting, spewing bile and spit into the toilet. Sick to his stomach with the fear of where his mind had taken him, he vomited again until there was nothing left to come up and still he felt nauseated. He lurched to his feet wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and fled the bathroom ahead of the demons to the door stumbling down the stairs and out. He had to get out. He heard,
Tony, where you going man?
The coach is looking for you!
You missed dinner!
Toneee!
From the group of boys returning from the dining room.
His feet slipped on the wet pavement as he ran long and hard and he fell to the ground scraping the skin off his knees and bruising his elbow as he went down. The hard rain pelted his face as he lay staring up at the black sky wondering if he should ever rise again.
Suddenly, he felt someone on the ground beside him, even felt the splash of water as the person went down amidst the heavy downpour. "Get up, Tony come on." a voice said, "let's get you up out of the rain."
"It happened again Coach. It was horrible. I was using the knife. I was the one stabbing them all to death over and over." His speech was choppy and disjointed. "The man with the knife wasn't faceless anymore. "It was me, it was me, oh god!"
Coach Trent lifted Tony bodily under the arms to his feet and got him moving to his office up the street where Tony had been heading. He made coffee and hot chocolate after getting Tony settled in a chair, and stoking up the fire in the fireplace and handing him a towel. Tony sat unresponsive, bedraggled and soaked to the bone, staring at the flames.
When the hot beverages were ready, Tony surprised the Coach by reaching for the chocolate and blowing on it before taking a sip.
"I'm okay, Coach." Even though he was still shivering, Tony's voice was now steady.
"That's not me, Coach. That's not me. Killing children, being a mass murderer because I'm too much of a coward to deal with my own problems, I'd jump off a cliff before I'd do that. Dr Beckman said I had choices I could make.
"I'm not twelve years old anymore. I could make my own destiny, not be dependent on their choices for me. I can keep the memories, they're a part of me, but I can overcome the reality of the vicious stepmother, the murderous father with hands around my throat. I can be better than they ever were." That was Tony's life-saving mantra.
Coach Trent was proud to know this young man who was a survivor of hell, as he talked himself down from his panic and horror of what he could have become. Thoughts and nightmares from the boy's first year at the school had set off alarms; getting up at night to scrub the toilets for hours on end on his hands and knees, sleeping in the closet or under the bed, not being able to make any friends or have any emotional attachments to anyone, all of these, signs of cruelty or violence perpetrated against him in his past.
Intense counseling, still ongoing, coach as a mentor, quiet and peaceful surroundings all had helped Tony to develop ways to cope and to see that he had good choices he could make. So, yeah, he was proud Tony.
They finished their second cup, Tony opting for coffee this time. It was dark but the rain had stopped as they stepped outside to get Tony back to his dorm.
On the way back to the dorm Coach said, "The lawyer's office called. They want you there for a 10 o'clock meeting tomorrow regarding your grandmother's will.
And Tony's predictable response, "No way, Coach! Not gonna happen!"
The coach decided not to discuss the matter further except to say, "Thought so, Tony. Told them to set another date, you weren't coming, and hung up on the bas...busybodies."
Tony laughed at the coach's scorn and distrust for lawyers since he couldn't throw an elephant. The coach's sage advise; Let's get you home and dry. Kick the dirt, or in this case mud, off your feet and take your leave.
Tony thought that was profound, "You and your prose, Coach," he said.
"Naw, it's from the bible." The coach admitted.
The next morning, Tony had just left the dorm with two of his teammates, who were joking and horsing around. Surprisingly, Tony had slept without nightmares last night after his breakdown and felt better than he had since hearing about his grandmother's death.
Now, this morning, he was starving and was about to make up for no dinner yesterday with a triple decker pancake, bacon, egg and home fries sandwich. They talked about the upcoming game as they walked the campus grounds to the dining room. Several cars including a black limo were parked in the Ames building circular driveway. And several boys were being escorted to the vehicles by the driver or their bodyguard or even a parent.
A man wearing a limo driver's uniform came out of the building and down the short flight of stairs in a hurry. He seemed agitated as he bent down to speak to someone sitting in the back passenger seat of the limo. The man happened to raise his head and look over the hood of the car as Tony trotted by. Tony caught the basketball thrown by one of his friends, and briefly glanced at the man before continuing on.
"That's him. Should we pick him up now?" the man spoke to the person in the car.
"No, the school will know it was us. Go to plan B. Be discrete but we need him in New York today!
Tony left the dining room a satisfied man. His buddies were a few steps behind him as he headed for Saturday roll call and then a pickup game of basketball. Thankful there were no classes today, he intended to chase a ball and then later get started on the long-delayed reading of his mail.
"Hey, Bud? You know a Betty Trent?"
The guy crossing the street addressing Tony was nondescript, tall and thin. He was casually dressed in white polo shirt, jeans and sneakers, and had brown hair and dark eyes. His gate was unthreatening as he strode up to Tony with folded note in hand.
"Who the hell are you?" Tony was immediately suspicious. Cecil Clay, who claimed he was cousin to Ali, and Tommy, the Burn, Burnett, trotted up to Tony in suspicious nosiness.
"What's going on Tone?"
"Take it easy, boys." The stranger soothed, harmlessly raising his hand to show the boys the note.
"Just had a message here for Tony from a good friend." He again offered the note to Tony who hesitated before grabbing it from the man's hand.
Tony started to read the note then turned his back on his friends and walked a short distance away. When he turned back around, his face was ashen and his hand was shaking when he handed the paper back to the stranger, who walked away with a wave of his hand.
"Look, CC, Burnett, could you see if the coach is still in the dining room or in the gym. Ms Betty isn't feeling well and, just tell him to go home when you find him. I'm going to check his office and the wood shop."
"Yeah, sure Tony," said CC. "You sure everything's okay? Who was that guy?"
"Him? Maintenance. Come on, we're wasting time!" Tony said urgently.
"Find coach first then we'll meet up at the court." Tony took off in the opposite direction without another word as the other boys looked at each other than shrugged and left to help find the coach.
Tony sat in the back of the van and jiggled the sliding door again. Nothing had changed, it was still locked. He had yelled himself hoarse over the course of what he estimated to be three hours riding without making one pit stop.
His kidnappers had left chips, soda and a candy bar in a plastic bag from a 7-11 and nothing else, and he had to pee, although there was a bucket in the corner for when he got desperate enough. There were no windows in the van so he couldn't see outside, or hear a sound. The vehicle must be soundproofed.
Tony had tried talking to the goons, there had been three of them. But no one was listening to him. It scared him that they had allowed him to see their faces. In the movies that always meant that once they got their money, they'd kill the hostage so no disguise was necessary.
He was in big trouble. But what else could he have done. The guy had slipped him a Polaroid picture of Ms B tied to a chair with a gag in her mouth. The note had told him if he didn't cooperate she would be hurt bad. He was to get rid of his friend's then walk unhurriedly to the gate where a van with a maintenance company logo would be waiting. He was to get into the back of the van without making a fuss and once he was in the van, they would show him another photo of his freed and unharmed friend. So far, he hadn't seen the picture or heard a word from those guys.
Wasn't it ironic, these men had gotten ahold of the wrong DiNozzo kid and he couldn't say anything to them about their mistake. He may hate his brothers to death, but no way would he throw them under the bus; it was the principal of the thing, he wouldn't sacrifice someone else to save himself.
But little did these guys know that Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. wouldn't spend one wooden nickel trying to get him back. It would be like pulling a tooth from a chicken or making donkeys fly or leading a something to water but...whatever, it wasn't gonna happen. He was doomed to lie in an unmarked grave in a derelict junkyard somewhere.
Before his thoughts brought on a full blown panic attack, the van stopped and shortly thereafter, the sliding door was opened and one of the men beckoned him out. The jerk told him that they didn't appreciate all the banging and noise he had made and to just keep his mouth shut now as he led him by his arm to a sign marked elevator.
They must have found out he wasn't going to be ransomed, Oh God. Tony wasn't going down without a fight. He figured they must have found Ms B by this time as he looked around at the sparsely occupied underground parking garage, so he had to make his move now while there was no one else around to get hurt. Usually these guys carried guns, even though he hadn't seen any yet, but that could change at any time.
As they made their way to the elevator, the tall, skinny thug who had been holding Tony's arm in a death grip reached to press the up bottom when Tony made his move. He wrenched his arm free and ran. He went up the ramp and around the corner where he sees the exit sign blinking in big red letters.
Curses and heavy footsteps follow in his wake as he makes it to the heavy metal door. Who knew the tall, skinny guy could run like that as he catches Tony by the back of his shirt and slams his head into the door. Tony goes down but he's not out, just disoriented and woozy as he falls flat on his face. His forehead is bleeding and his nose feels flattened.
Why'd you do that, you damn fool? Tony heard someone say angrily. Get him up now! If this kid is hurt and you've blown our chances of getting our money, I'll kill you myself!
He heard another voice whining. He was getting away!
All Tony heard in his concussed state was, I'll kill you myself, and he was up off the ground, or he would have been if his legs weren't shaking like a bowl of jello. Instead, two of the perps lifted him by an arm each and hauled him unceremoniously to the waiting elevator.
They got off on the ninth floor and walked him down the corridor to a glass door. Tony couldn't read the name on the door due to the blood dripping in his eyes and the creeps hadn't even given him a dirty handkerchief to wipe it off. They entered the front office and were greeted by a receptionist seated behind a desk looking appalled at their entrance.
A freaked out piercing voice coming from the other woman in the room shrieked, what happened, what happened to him? A handful of tissues were shoved in Tony's hand and what felt like a bottle of water was poured over his head.
Becoming more aware, he stuck the wad of tissue to the wound on his forehead and pressed to stop the trickle of blood. He barely remembered entering another room but he found himself in a larger office with windows facing the skyline of New. York. City. He was in New York?
The comfortable chair he was sitting in faced a desk made of dark wood. There was no one sitting at the desk but one of his captors, the ordinary looking guy, leaned against the wall next to the door. Tony wasn't getting past this guy anytime soon. Suddenly, the door was flung open and the shrieker entered carrying a first aid kit and bottle of aspirin. It was eerily quiet as she cleaned and put a small bandage on his forehead.
The woman was the first to speak. It's just a small cut, kid, you're okay. Here, take two aspirin and she thrust the aspirin at him along with another bottle of water. Put this ice pack on your head, you'll be all right. She wasn't a doctor, how would she know. She seemed awfully anxious though for him to be all right as she kept saying it as she left the room and it was quiet once more.
Tony sat anxiously waiting though he tried not to look anxious. What the hell, he was scared to death. What did they want from him? Who were they? Finally, the door opened and the nervous woman came in along with a short man carrying a brown briefcase. The man was dressed in a brown suit, brown tie, shirt and shoes, even his hair and eyes were brown.
The man went behind the desk and sat in his chair. He put on a pair of dark rimmed glasses then opened the briefcase and started removing a stack of papers all but ignoring Tony. The woman sat in the other unoccupied chair facing the desk. She kept glancing at Tony out of the corner of her eye and sat stiff and un-relaxed in her chair. She looked the way Tony felt.
Finally, the man looked up at Tony, removed his glasses and picked up his pen. No introductions were made, no welcoming handshake or friendly smile. The man thanked Tony for coming and apologized for the delay but assured him that their business would conclude quickly and then Anthony could be on his way.
Tony's heart raced. His forehead was sweaty and his hands wet and shaky. His eyes had started to water. On his way? To where, a slave camp, boy prostitute when his father wouldn't pay the ransom? He'd fess up and see what happens.
"My father won't pay the ransom," Tony told the guy hoping he'd be believed. "But I have a good friend who will help me get the money." He knew Janes would help him.
Newly graduated out of Harvard Law School at top of his class at 25, Bryan Billups was an associate of his father's law firm. His partnership was guaranteed after a few years of grunt work and this was his first 'case'. His instructions had been clear.
Bryan, just read the entire will to him then get him to sign the documents necessary. That should be simple enough, son.
I understand that dad, don't make out like I'm an idiot. I want to know what else is going on here.
Listen, son, just do as you're told. According to Angela, uh, Mrs DiNozzo, this boy is incorrigible. That's why he had to be sent away. He was a disruption to the household and a bully to his brothers. His father doesn't want to have anything to do with him.
So, what? You're going to have a couple of thugs beat him up for not signing away his bucketful of money. Come on, dad..."
Bryan, learn from this. That boy's grandmother was sitting on a fortune and she left every penny to him. Regardless of Mrs DiNozzo's plans, our fee will be in the millions. That's all that is important, understood?
Bryan Billups looked at Anthony strangely and with some impatience from behind his desk. Now it looked like his father was right. This kid was going to be difficult just like Dad said and he needed to wrap this up.
"Look, Anthony, sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about. You came in today so we could read your grandmother's will and I need you to sign some papers regarding that will. It shouldn't take more than half an hour at the most. Now if we can get started…"
Bryan rustled the papers in front of him in irritation not noticing the boy's shocked green eyes staring at him.
"That's what this is about! My grandmother's will? Tony had straightened up in his chair.
"Of course, this is about your grandmother's will. That message was left with your coach, um ...Trent, I think? You volunteered to come in but didn't have transportation. The limousine you came in and the driver are at your disposal for later once we conclude our business. Perhaps you'd enjoy a tour of New York City and an early dinner before your ride back to school tonight."
"You call three thugs showing up at my school and kidnapping me, throwing me in the back of a dirty van with no windows and driving me over three hundred miles against my will voluntary?
"And when I tried to get away, the guy over there slams my head against the steel door and cracks my skull open?" The frumpy woman beside him tittered nervously with her hand over her mouth.
"And my friends, what have you done to them? Is Mrs Trent alright?"
"Kidnapped, what...Mrs Trent?" Bryan sputtered, as the woman jumped from her chair.
"Your father said there wouldn't be any trouble!" She accused Bryan, pointing a nail bitten finger at him. "I could lose my job over this!" she shrieked at the top of her surprisingly loud voice.
"Calm down, everyone just calm down!" said an authoritative voice as an older man entered the room from another door.
Tony eyed the new guy with no less distrust as he leaned forward in his chair, "What did you do to my friend?"
"Dad what's he talking about?" said Bryan, but he was ignored.
"Your friends are fine, Anthony. Perhaps our methods were a little melodramatic but getting you here was important and you were refusing to cooperate. You are a minor subject to Fred's, erh, your guardian's control. He authorized your removal from the school and your transportation here.
"But first, please forgive my son's rudeness by not introducing us first thing.
"I'm Martin Billups, Sr, Attorney at law. The one seated behind the desk is my son, Bryan Billups, he will be the lawyer handling this case, although I will be assisting him if there is a need.
"Your child advocate, Ms Myra Jackson, was kind enough to come from the State Child Advocacy Office today to offer her assistance. Please sit back down, Ms Jackson.
"Of course, the guard is here to facilitate that things go smoothly, just a mere precaution. Although, I noticed there is a bandage on your forehead. Anthony, you should really try and be more careful when playing sports, I've heard one can suffer serious injury when thus engaged."
Billups effectively blamed Tony's head injury on...Tony and dismissed any other implication.
"Now, please allow Bryan here to read the will!" Billups made himself comfortable on the sofa across the room.
Tony weighed his options. The Trent's seemed to be alright at the moment but that could change at anytime. He had to buy some time, figure out what they wanted before deciding what to do. Tony slouched back in the chair and stretched his long legs out in a pose of relaxation and ease. The spinster next to him, Ms Jackson, sat rigidly in her chair clutching her purse in her lap.
"Go ahead, read the will, I'm listening."
The reading of the will was shortly completed. There were only so many ways one could say, 'I leave everything to my grandson, Anthony DiNozzo, Jr'. Bryan sat behind his desk with several folders and papers splayed across his desktop.
"Do you understand the arrangements your grandmother has made for you in her will, Anthony?" Bryan adjusted his reading glasses, checked his watch and frowned at the time, and sorted out the papers on his desk barely glancing at the young man sitting quietly across from him.
"It's Tony."
"Excuse me?" Bryan looked up briefly. "Oh, sorry of course, Tony." Bryan was getting impatient; he had a lunch date with his fiancé and her parent's, and being late was one of his future father-in-law's pet peeves.
"Do you understand or do you need further clarification?"
"I need further clarification." Tony said cautiously trying to buy some time to think.
"All right," Bryan sighed, checking his watch again.
"Your grandmother has bequeathed her entire estate to you. This includes certain real estate properties, stocks and bonds, her shares in several of the DiNozzo enterprises and the mansion listed at the stated address. Your grandmother has also made arrangements for you to begin receiving a stipend immediately.
"However, It is my understanding that you will be graduating from the academy soon and that no other financial arrangements have been made by the DiNozzo family to further your education as you are choosing a sports career over business. Is that correct?"
Again, Bryan barely glanced at the boy as he read from his papers.
"Yes."
"Unfortunately, the scholarship is only a partial one and you will need to find employment as it does not cover living arrangements, books or food.
"Now, I only bring this up because the stipend your grandmother had so fortuitously arranged would have certainly made a big difference in whether you sink or swim in your future scholastic endeavors. Isn't that so?" The question was rhetorically. Tony could tell he had his mind on something else and wasn't interested in his answer.
Billups glanced at his father with a frown before continuing. Something wasn't right with this.
Adjusting his glasses and licking his lips, a nervous habit, he got up from behind his desk and poured a cup of coffee from the coffee pot at the side table for himself and an orange soda from the mini fridge for Tony. The social worker declined a beverage.
Tony accepted the cold soda and drank a few sips as Billups sat back down.
"Now the only problem I can foresee, Tony, that might delay getting these funds to you swiftly is a petition initiated by Mrs Anthony DiNozzo, Sr, on behalf of her son's Antoney Steven DiNozzo and Anton Gregor DiNozzo.
"Mrs DiNozzo is petitioning for equal sharing of the estate. That is, all assets left to you by your grandmother is to be shared equally between you three boys, meaning each grandson will receive one third of the estate. Mrs DiNozzo believes that your brothers…"
"Half-brothers."
Looking over his glasses at the young man, annoyed at another interruption, the lawyer corrected his error.
"Your half-brothers then. Mrs DiNozzo believes the inheritance should be shared by you three boys and feels confident that this issue can be settled amicably without tying the estate up in court for years.
"She also contends that due to your grandmother's untimely death she never found the time to change her will. Her extensive traveling's out of the country and her lack of foresight also contributed towards this oversight, but that she never meant to exclude her other two grandsons, whom she loved very dearly, out of her will.
"Mrs DiNozzo believes that you also had undo influence on the elderly lady and encouraged her to stay unreachable so that she was not in a position to visit her lawyers thereby effectively guaranteeing that your two brothers would not receive their rightful share. Mrs DiNozzo is convinced your grandmother was able to be so easily influenced by you because of her advancing senility.
"So, that being said, there are quite a few documents for you to sign, Tony, in triplicate to get things rolling. As you are a minor and your uncle Frederick DiNozzo is your guardian, Ms Jackson here will witness your signature and attest to the fact that there was no coercion involved. Your guardian, Mr Frederick DiNozzo, has given his permission for Ms Jackson to act on your behalf during his absence.
"Once the papers have been signed, monies will be deposited to an account that you will be able to draw upon to set up your apartment and get settled before university starts. You three boys are going to be very rich young men."
The attorney was well-satisfied as he started to buzz his secretary to send in the notary public.
"No." said Tony softly, everything becoming clear now. Angela DiNozzo had been biding her time under a rock to strike like the cobra she was.
"Excuse me?" Bryan started to perspire, another nervous reaction. He knew this had been too easy.
"I said No! My grandmother is dead because she didn't go to a doctor in time because she was hiding from that bitch. She left me her things for a reason and I'm gonna keep every last thing she gave me, and she wasn't senile, she remembered everything."
"Be that as it may, Tony, surely you understand that these are not 'things' like a toy or video game?" Bryan tried to be reasonable.
"You will be a very rich young man and by rights your brothers, sorry, half-brothers, are entitled to share in this fortune. After all, even though your stepmother isn't asking for anything for herself, she is the one who took care of your grandmother in her senior years. If it weren't for her…"
"If it weren't for that bitch, my grandmother wouldn't have had to be on the run most of the time. She had to hide in dumpy motels and stay out of the country just so she wouldn't be found and committed to an old folks home or insane asylum based on some doctored up mental records signed by some shyster quack of a doctor who that bitch paid off to lie!"
Tony crushed the soda can in fury and continued.
"My grandmother wouldn't have had to sneak around behind the schools back to see me because that bitch refused to put her name on my acceptable visitors list and threatened the school with a lawsuit if they allowed her near me." Tears escaped in spite of his efforts to remain strong, just thinking about his grandma's travails.
"She was just an old lady. She should have been sipping ice teas in her garden or traveling to visit her old friends instead of worrying herself over me. Or hiding and sneaking around like some damn criminal. That bitch didn't take care of her, she just tried to make her life miserable.
"So, no! None of them deserve anything that belonged to my grandmother and I'm gonna make sure they get nothing if it's the last thing I do!
"So, just call the van back and take me back to school and don't ever bother me again!"
Tony rose from his chair preparing to leave. He was an emancipated minor. They couldn't make him do anything.
Infuriated, Martin Billups lunged from the sofa and caught up to Tony swinging him around by the shoulder before he could leave.
"Do you think this is a game, young man? Your mother informed us that you would be uncooperative and prone to unprovoked violence…"
"That bitch is not my mother!"
"There is no need for profanity or bad manners, Anthony, we are just trying to help you in resolving a difficult situation." The senior Billups tried to place his hand on Tony's shoulder in insincere support even as Tony jerked away from his touch.
"Fine!" The lawyer's voice turned ruthless.
"This is the way things are going to be! You are in no position to thwart plans that have been set up by your betters. Monies for your schooling have already been cut off to that boy's academy you are enrolled in. They are allowing you to stay there on their sufferance and charity.
"So basically you are a penniless minor, an orphan with no rights. Mrs DiNozzo is willing and able to tie your grandmother's estate up for years in behalf of her son's and what is rightfully their fair share of the said estate.
"Also, as said minor, you can kiss your college education goodbye because you will need the approval of your guardian Mr Frederick DiNozzo until you are legally of age, which I can assure you, you will not have.
"Another factor to consider. Tony," Billups said his name sarcastically and smiled unbecomingly, showing his lawyers sharp teeth.
"Is that the DiNozzo's are on several school boards and have some influence on who will or will not receive grants and scholarships. What's given can be taken away, as you will."
Tony recognized the threat but it couldn't affect him, could it? His scholarship was guaranteed, wasn't it?
"Granted, this will only delay your entrance into college until you are eighteen, but I doubt the scholarship funds will be available to you by then. And your glory days, as you have envisioned I'm sure, as a super sports star will never see fulfillment.
"Your only other option will be a two year stint somewhere in some second rate community college but you'll still have to provide for room and board for yourself or is it your intent to live on the streets?" Billups laughed cruelly. This upstart wasn't going to wreck his plans.
"Now, have I painted a vivid enough picture for you? Can you see your options clearly enough to realize that cooperation is your only option?"
Bryan Billups looked on in utter dismay at his father's highhanded and cruel presentation of the facts. He couldn't connect this bully of a man with the loving father he had always known. Was this how his father had earned his money by taking advantage of the helpless innocent?
Ms Jackson was also rethinking her decision to accept the five hundred dollars she had been offered to perjure herself by saying she represented this kid and there was no coercion involved, and signing her name to legal documents. That money wasn't worth her job or eventual pension. She had a family of cats to take care of.
Tony stared at the carpet as he thought things through. Obviously, this jerk was woefully misinformed. His emancipation papers had been in effect well before his grandmother had passed away. And once the funds had been stopped for his schooling, there was no reason to communicate with his former guardian or anyone else for that matter, especially the bitch.
As far as being a charity case at the school, Tony had already made arrangements to
make payments for his last few months there from his grandmother's allowance. So, true, being on his own, he would be penniless without his grandmother's help.
No clothes for college life; his wardrobe consisted of school uniforms, dress shoes and sneakers. He didn't have a job and no place to live. No money for food. He had been counting on his grandmother's help until he could find a part time job. Tony had to sigh at another obstacle placed in his path by the hatefulness of the DiNozzo's against him.
Hearing the sigh, Martin Billups assumed the kid had weighed his options and wisely chose to go with the program and split the estate into three equal parts thus ensuring his firm a hefty fee, and he signaled to his son to get the papers ready.
Decision made, Tony walked around the lawyer and continued to move towards the door.
"My decision is still no. No way are those greedy pigs getting their hands on anything my grandmother left me. You can stall it in court for the rest of their lives. I don't care!
"Oh, and by the way, Mr Big Man, know it all attorney. I've been an emancipated minor since months before my grandmother died. I'm sure you know what that means. You can't force me do anything so you can dump your phony, so called child advocate back to wherever she came from." Tony happily spat that information to the arrogant attorney.
And turning to Ms Jackson, Tony warned her. "I'll be sure to let your supervisor's know what you've been doing in the name of their office. Was it worth the couple hundred bucks they paid you to ruin your career?"
Ms Jackson yelped before jumping up and running to the door.
"You said nobody would find out about this." The panicky, dowdy woman yelled at the lawyer. "I hope you rot in hell!" And they could hear her sensible shoes scurrying on the floor as she ran to the elevator lamenting. "Mimi, Daisy. Who's going to take care of you if I lose my job?"
Crazy nut, thought Tony as he dismissed the nondescript woman from his mind when the lawyer snarled.
"Emancipated minor, you're a lying little punk!"
"Dad!" Bryan stood by helplessly
Billups grabbed Tony by the arm and started to drag him to the desk. "You will sign those papers boy if I have to wring your neck!"
Tony shoved him away so hard, the lawyer went over the top of the desk and was only stopped from falling onto the floor by his son's outstretched arms.
As though things weren't bad enough, the interior door opened again and a stunningly beautiful, well-dressed woman came into the room.
"You see, Martin, you see what I have had to put up with all these years." Angela DiNozzo spoke, and added a dramatic, long-suffering gesture to her brow with her elegant hand.
Angela had the rapt attention of the guard, and both lawyers. She would have gone on posing indefinitely if her performance hadn't been interrupted by loud and raucous laughter erupting from the only man in the room who wasn't enthralled.
Tony laughed and ogled her up and down noting that Dorian Grey from that old movie had nothing on her because she hadn't changed in five years. Except the evil that was her was not splashed on an empty canvas in technicolor and hidden in the dusty attic in the unused portion of the mansion.
But the passing years had been Tony's friend and he had changed. He'd grown bigger, taller, handsomer, even. Her lies had no effect on him as nothing she could say or do, or anyone in this room for that matter could do, would make him hand over something his grandmother was determined this bitch would not get. He'd see her in the gutter well before she found him there.
Never one to hold his tongue now that he was out of that chamber of horrors, Tony spoke his mind without censor. "Well, well, the Bitch, herself. I should have known. Please, Martin, let her tell you what she's had to put up with, the poor woman."
Tony mocked as he turned back to the senior Billups. "Did she tell you about the time she broke her newly manicured nail when she threw me down the cellar stairs when I was three years old? She told you, didn't she, that I laid there for hours in the dark with a broken wrist until one of the staff heard me crying and came and got me?
"Lucky for me that first murder attempt backfired because by that time the staff had her number and they stood between me and death by bitchy stepmother until I could get out of there."
Tony recognized the fury Angela hid so well from others behind perfect makeup, hair and clothes. But she wanted him dead, oh yeah, as she stared daggers at him.
"You see, Martin, he has always been a pathological liar, and he's had other mental problems. Actually, I'm surprised he hasn't suffered a mental breakdown due to his extreme fantasies. Perhaps it would be best to have him placed in an institution where he could receive the professional help that he so obviously needs.
"Would you get me a glass of water, please, Bryan? Angela requested as she sat in the chair the social worker had vacated and crossed her legs.
"I'm sure Frederick would agree to sign any papers necessary to have him committed."
"Oh, now wait a minute Angela. Didn't you hear what he said? He is an emancipated minor. That means he can make his own decisions. You, or rather Frederick, have no control over him anymore. He is a free agent."
"He's lying, Martin! Can't you see that he's lying! The school would have notified us if that were the case!" Angela's civilized veneer was beginning to slip as she raised her voice.
Tony had had enough. "Guys! Hey guys! I'm leaving. Now since you brought me here against my will, I need transportation back to the dorm. I can't say that it was nice seeing you again, Angela, cause it wasn't."
"You're not finished here until you sign those papers, you bastard!" said Angela as her hot anger took control of her. She rose from her chair and quickly stalked in her high heels to the boy who would never forget the sound of those shoes on the wooden floors. He stood gracefully at her approach with an infuriating smirk on his face.
Even so, the crack of her hand against his cheek was loud and unexpected to the other men in the room unused to her sudden violence. The blood dripping from an open wound on his face caused by her sharp diamond ring was a surprise also.
Angela's arm, raised for another blow, was caught by the wrist by Tony and held tightly, she'd have a bruise to complain about tomorrow, before her arm was forced down to her side and let go.
Tony scrubbed the hand he had touched her with on his pant leg in an obvious show of the disgust he felt for her. The security guard belatedly grabbed Tony by the arm but Bryan Billups waved him away
Martin Billups led the heaving woman back to her chair and placed the water Bryan had brought in her hand. He spoke quietly to her until she appeared to calm down.
Bryan Billups dismissed the guard. It was more than obvious Tony wasn't the one who needed the handcuffs. Bryan didn't wait for his father to finish his discussion with Mrs DiNozzo.
"I've called for the limo, Tony, if you're sure you want to contest the petition of Mrs DiNozzo's. You do realize that this will probably be in court for years and no monies will be available to you until a settlement is reached?" said Bryan Billups quietly.
"I know and I don't care!"
Overhearing their quiet conversation, Martin Billups just couldn't let it go as he walked over to Tony with Mrs DiNozzo hanging on his arm.
"Let me warn you, young man, if you are determined to act vindictively in your erroneous assumptions of things you know nothing about, the outcome will not be what you expected. Walk out of here now, without signing these papers and you'll be a pauper living on the street now and probably for the rest of your life."
"Let the bastard go, Martin, there's no reasoning with him." Mrs DiNozzo had apparently regained her composure.
She smiled sweetly, "Penniless and homeless will suit him just fine. I'll make sure of that."
Tony was determined not to show fear or cowardliness. "Yeah, well, just so you know, that mansion you're living in now belongs to me too and I want you out of there. I'm giving you to the end of this month to get your junk and go somewhere else, preferably the gutter, I don't care.
"If you're not gone by then, I'll call the cops on you for trespassing and get your asses carted off to jail and I'll get a garbage truck to haul your crap to the dump! Who do you think will be homeless then?"
Tony's bravado was only skin deep. He didn't know whether he could actually do that or not.
But Angela took it at face value because she narrowed her eyes as she prepared to launch herself at Tony again. Bryan hurried Tony to the door. "Your vehicle is waiting, Tony, come on, I'll escort you down to the garage."
Bryan had learned two things from this debacle: he would never look at the practice of law through the same rose colored glasses again, and his father was a lowlife, hypocritical scumbag.
Tony got in the last word as, "It's been fun, bitch." echoed through the closing door.
END OF Flashback
A/N I can never say it enough. Thank you for reading this story and your encouragement to continue writing it.