Chapter 7 - The Brothers' Vengeance
While the legal and financial world was collapsing on Russell,
my brothers were handling the more personal aspects of the debt.
Jax Walton didn't believe in just jail time.
He visited Russell in the holding cell,
using his family connections to get a private room.
He didn't hit him.
He didn't need to.
He just sat across from him,
his presence a crushing weight.
“Do you know what we do to people who hurt our sister?”
Jax asked,
his voice like cold iron.
Russell was trembling,
his eyes darting around the room.
“I...
I didn't know...
I'm sorry.”
Jax leaned forward.
“Sorry doesn't fix a child’s head,”
he said.
“Sorry doesn't take back the lashings.”
“You’re going to a very specific prison,
Russell.”
“A place where the guards know the Walton name.”
“A place where every single day will be a reminder of what you did.”
Russell began to sob,
the reality of his future sinking in.
Meanwhile,
Caleb Walton was dealing with the Fairchild family.
Gwendolyn’s parents had tried to distance themselves from her,
but Caleb wasn't having it.
“You knew,”
Caleb said,
sitting in their lavish drawing room.
“You knew she was lying about the fire.”
“You helped her spend the money she stole from my sister’s reputation.”
He had already bought up their family debts.
He owned their house,
their cars,
and their businesses.
“You have twenty-four hours to leave the state,”
Caleb said.
“If I ever see a Fairchild name in the news again,
I will make sure you are forgotten in a cell.”
The Fairchilds were gone by sunset.
Silas Walton was ensuring that the divorce was a scorched-earth event.
He didn't just take the assets;
he took the Vaughn name.
He filed a motion to have the name legally stripped from Russell’s businesses.
He ensured that Phoebe’s last name was changed to Walton.
“He doesn't deserve a legacy,”
Silas told me.
“He doesn't deserve to have a daughter who carries his shame.”
Grant was the one who held the family together.
He managed the logistics,
the security,
and the healing.
He spent hours talking to me,
reminding me of who I was.
“You’re a Walton,
Heather,”
he said.
“You never have to be small again.”
I looked at my five brothers,
the men who had protected me since I was a baby.
They were different,
each with their own way of dealing with the world.
But they were united in their love for me.
Russell Vaughn had thought I was alone.
He had thought I was weak.
He had no idea that I was part of a pack.
A pack of wolves who would tear the world apart for one of their own.
The debt was being paid,
cent by cent,
May you like
in the currency of pain and loss.
And I was finally able to sleep.
