by M. Malone
I scream against the back of his hand. He squeezes my jaw so hard my teeth grind together.
“Shut up, bitch. I know what’s going on now. I saw the check, Emma. You can drop the innocent act.”
I stop struggling momentarily. He knows about the money? I didn’t think Mr. Marshall would have told anyone about it. Isn’t it illegal to do stuff like this? Then I realize he’s a very rich man and probably used to giving people large sums of money all the time.
I struggle against him and try to elbow him. He snickers. “I just figured you were cozying up to the old bastard so he’d pay your rent for a while. Or give you some money for tuition. But a million dollars? You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”
His arms tighten around me. I can feel his breath, hot on the side of my face. A ripple of disgust rolls through me.
His hand has finally loosened slightly so I wrench my head to the side. “I don’t want it! If you’re the one who sent it than you can take it back.”
“Let me guess, you want more? You probably figured a million isn’t enough for a rich old codger like Mr. Marshall. Well, I protect him from greedy bitches like you every day.”
In his mania, his grip has loosened enough that I can lift my leg a bit. I raise my foot and stomp down on his toe. He stumbles and I run to the other side of the room, so the couch is between us.
“Protect him? You’re stealing from him.” I look back and forth between where he’s standing and the door. My heart is pounding so hard that I can barely breathe.
“You’d better not be thinking of going to the media with this.”
“That’s not why I’m here. Just tell Mr. Marshall that I don’t want any parts of this. I’m tearing the check up.”
He leaps forward over the couch and manages to snag the edge of my coat. I fall backward into the coffee table.
“Get away from me!” I roll away and try to pull out of his grasp. Then he’s on me, holding me down. I can feel the imprint of his arousal. He laughs and grinds it against me. As we struggle, something falls and crashes to the ground. Pieces of crockery land next to me.
Voices sound outside the door in the hallway. Jon looks up and I grab one of the sharp pieces on the floor and swipe out blindly.
“Aah!” He falls to the side clutching his face.
I jump up and race for the door, pushing past the redheaded woman who has just entered.
The bellman in the hallway jumps out of the way as I burst through the doors and run for the elevator that just opened. I know what I must look like with a fresh bruise on my cheek and my blouse hanging open. I bang the buttons rapidly until the doors close.
“Get back here, you crazy bitch. She attacked me. Stop her!”
I can hear Jon’s voice getting smaller and smaller as the elevator descends.
When the elevator car finally reaches the lobby, I run past the small crowd waiting to get on. There are a few shouts and gasps as I shoulder my way through. Outside, I step directly into a cab at the curb.
“Go! Quickly.”
The cabbie pulls out into traffic. I turn back to see Jon racing out of the hotel. He stands on the curb looking in both directions.
Back at Tank’s place, I immediately go to the bathroom and strip. I just want a shower. I step into the stall before the water is fully warmed up. Cold water splashes over me and I duck my head, allowing the stream to saturate my hair. After a few minutes the water warms up and I rub my arms briskly, trying to lose the chill.
“Emma? I heard you come in.”
It takes me a minute to find my voice. “I’m here.”
There’s the rustle of fabric and then the curtain moves to the side and Tank steps in behind me. As soon as he touches me, I turn and plaster myself to him. He pulls back slightly and holds my shoulders. Suddenly, his entire body goes rigid.
“What the hell happened to your face?”
A sob escapes my lips and Tank brushes my wet hair back. He tenderly lifts one of my wrists. Black and blue bruises are already showing up.
“Emma? Did Jon do this to you?”
I nod silently then bury my face in his neck. He holds me and then suddenly squeezes me tightly. “I am going to hurt him. He will pay. I promise you that.”
“I don’t want you fighting.”
“There’s no stopping this, Em. He hurt you. I can’t stand it, can’t live with knowing that he did this to you. Why did you go back there without me?”
My muddled mind finally comprehends that he thinks Jon was at my house.
“You don’t have to talk about this. Come on. You’re shivering.” He cuts the water off and extends his hand to help me out of the shower. He wraps a thick towel around me and gently blots all the water off. Then he scrubs himself quickly with the same towel and wipes it over his head roughly.
“You need to rest.” He picks me up and carries me to his bed.
I curl around him. I push my face right up against his broad chest, reveling in the scent and warmth that is uniquely Tank. Just a few weeks ago, I barely knew him and now he feels like my lifeline. A soft melody reaches my ears and then words. He’s singing to me.
His voice is warm and rich. It wraps around me as tightly as the blanket. It’s not until the tears flood my eyes and drench the pillow that I realize I’m crying. I don’t deserve this beautiful man. Because he has opened his soul to me and I’m lying to him.
It hurts imagining what it'll be like once he knows. He'll hate me. I never knew I could be devastated by something that hasn't even happened yet. But that's what this feels like. Devastation.
Like I'm already in ruins.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TANK
As I walk through the corridors of the hospital trying to find the signs leading to the billing office, I mentally calculate how long this trip will take. Leaving Emma after what happened last night was the last thing I wanted to do, but the first installment payment from my father hit my account this morning. Finn and I can finally clear the latest round of my mom's medical bills.
"She's fine, you know. She's safe at my penthouse. You need a keycard to reach that floor."
"Yeah I know." What he doesn't get is that I can't take chances with Emma. Just the thought of anything happening to her … is unimaginable.
“Here it is. Billing.” Finn points at the sign on the door to our left.
We enter the small waiting room. The young woman behind the desk perks up and directs her smile at Finn.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, we’re here to arrange payment on our mother’s account.” Finn pulls the last hospital bill printout from his pocket and slides it across the desk to her.
She glances at me briefly and then turns to her computer. A few key taps later, she frowns. “The balance on this account has already been paid.”
“What?” I lean over the desk and try to see the screen of her computer. “It hasn’t been that long since we got the last bill. Who paid it?”
“Sir, I really can’t give out patient information. Someone in your family must have gotten their wires crossed. But you'll have to deal with it directly or your Mom has to authorize us to speak with you about her account."
Finn leans over the counter, all smile and charm. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s probably just our father. It’s Maxwell Marshall, right? That’s our dad. Usually we handle all these details but he must have gone ahead and taken care of it for us.”
She visibly relaxes. I can practically see her melting in front of us. Finn tends to have that effect on women. “Oh good. I’m glad.”
"Thank you for your help …” His eyes drop to the nametag pinned above her left breast. "Ms. Weston. We really appreciate it."
As we walk away, I ask, “How did you know it was him?”
Finn glances behind him. The nurse is still watching us. He waves and she smiles back at him. “Who else would it be? Not that many people know she’s sick and even fewer have that kind of cash. He’s probably just feeli
ng guilty. Whatever. I don’t care why he did it. I’m just glad he did.”
“Yeah. Me too. I’m just surprised.”
“All right. I’m out of here. I have an appointment in a half hour.” He seems nervous and something about that dings my internal radar.
“What’s up with you today? You seem anxious about something. What’s this meeting for?”
“It’s nothing. Just meeting up with an old friend. I’ll see you later, Tank.”
The woman who answers the door of my father’s hotel room is about my age with wild red hair. I’ve never seen her before. I guess I should get used to this. My father is a rich man and he seems to have any number of people working for him.
“Uh, hi. I’m here to see my father. Is he here?” I probably should have called ahead but I was going on instinct.
“You must be Tank. I’m Charlene, your father’s personal assistant. He’s handling something right now but I’m sure he’ll want to see you. Follow me.”
His personal assistant. I wonder what the other lady was. His second assistant? Assistant to his personal assistant? Is this what I’ll be like in twenty years? It’s a strange thing to think of the future now. There was a time I wondered if I’d live to see thirty at all. Longevity isn’t assumed when you spend your time watching the world through a scope.
But I have an entirely different future to look forward to now. Since my mom’s astronomical hospital bill was cleared, I can use my money to set up the other treatments she needs. We can afford for her to complete chemotherapy and even try some of the therapies offered overseas. Things that aren’t approved yet in the U.S. but have been saving lives in other countries.
I’m not used to feeling gratitude but that’s what this is. He’s given me back my hope for a little while. The least I can do is say thank you in person.
It makes me feel guilty that I assumed he was so cold. He’s asked for very little actually. He just wanted to see me.
As we pass through the outer doors into the main area of the hotel suite, there’s a sudden, loud voice. The door to one of the bedrooms opens.
“Don’t think this is the last you’ve heard from me, old man. I know everything.” Mr. Boyd exits followed by two of the big, burly guys I remember from last time.
As they pass, Boyd points a finger at me. “He manipulates everyone around him. Don’t for one minute think you’re any different.”
One of the guys grabs him by the arm. “Come on. You’ve said your piece.”
“He hired that girl to draw you in and it worked. But he’ll get rid of you just as quickly as he did me when he’s done with you.”
I reach out and grab his arm. He’s so startled that he halts his tirade. I hold up a hand to the two security guys. “Wait a minute. Let him speak.”
His skin has turned a sickly shade of green under his spray tan but he must sense this will be his only chance. “You should know the truth about him. He uses his money to control everyone around him, including his children. He probably figured one million was a cheap price to pay to get you right where he wants you. You’re a fool if you believe otherwise.”
Everything inside me shrivels up into a little hard ball. “You said he hired “that girl.” What girl?”
“Emma Shaw.” He sneers her name and I immediately want to wipe the syllables from his mouth. It’s wrong for him to even speak her name. Not to mention the unholy look in his eyes.
“What does Emma have to do with anything?”
He laughs and my hands clench into fists.
“You actually thought she cared about you? Girls like that start coming out of the woodwork when you have money. I’m doing you a favor. At least you didn’t marry the bitch. That’s what he would have done.”
He’s goading me and I know it. My mother is one of the women he’s referring to. It would be foolish to respond to the obvious taunt. He wants me to hit him so he’ll have something to use against me. I need to walk away. Be the bigger man.
Then I think about it again and decide, Fuck it.
I punch him right above the nose. He buckles and drops to the ground like a stone. “I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t.”
The two security guys are grinning at me now. “I’m done with him. You can take him … wherever you were taking him.”
I honestly don’t care at this point.
The door to the bedroom they just exited hangs open. My father is sitting next to the window. He turns his head as I enter the room.
“Tanner? What are you doing here?”
“I was coming to thank you for paying mom’s hospital bill. I had this whole speech worked out in my head about how I’d misjudged you and you really were just looking to start over with us. Then I find out that you hired Emma to what, to seduce me?”
“It wasn’t like that. Emma is a nice girl. It was an opportunity for her to earn some money for her education.”
“Normal relationships don’t work like this. You can’t just pay people to be your friend or to do what you want. That’s not how it works.”
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble between you two. That’s not what was supposed to happen.”
His words only fuel my anger. Things always happen the way he wants them to and no one ever says no. Money has greased the wheels of his life for so long that he doesn’t know how to operate without using it. He doesn’t know how to have a normal relationship based on give and take.
“You want to know why you don’t have family around to take care of you while you’re sick? Because of shit like this. You manipulate people and use them to get what you want. You’re like a cancer. A sickness that spreads and devours everything around you. You wonder why you’re all alone? This is why.”
His mouth opens and then closes again but no sound comes out. His skin pales even further until he looks almost gray. My anger recedes as I realize that he isn’t responding to anything I’ve said. Not the anger or the accusations.
He looks stricken. For a moment, I feel guilty for how I’m lighting into him. He looks old and frail. His hand is shaking when he puts it to his forehead.
“Well? Say something.”
The hand resting on the side arm of his wheelchair shakes before falling to the side. His entire body slumps over, his head falling forward wildly.
“Dad? Help! Somebody.”
The doors to the suite burst open. The redhead who answered the door looks between me and my father in shock.
“Call 911.”
She recovers then dashes to the phone on the table. While she’s dialing, I press my fingers to the side of my father’s neck. I can’t feel anything and I’m not sure if it’s due to the angle of his body or the adrenaline racing through my own veins.
“Come on. Come on.”
At the hospital, the doctor disappears behind the swinging door and leaves me standing in the waiting room feeling like someone just clawed an open wound in my chest.
He’s alive. Barely.
“Is there someone I can call for you?” The nurse behind the desk is watching me with the kind of patient, gentle expression I imagine they must teach at nursing schools. She’s an older woman, with dark brown hair pulled up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She looks like the kind of lady who has a husband and three well-behaved kids. I briefly consider asking her if she’d adopt me.
I wouldn’t even know what to do in a normal family.
“No. I’m going to call my brother.” I pull out my cell phone and retreat to one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. I dial Finn’s number and the voicemail picks up.
“Finn. I’m at the hospital. Norfolk General. Our father has had a stroke. Or a heart attack. I don’t even know exactly. I just … need you to come. Just in case.”
I hang up and scrub my hands through my hair as I settle back to wait. The time passes slowly. I’ve never liked hospitals and this waiting is just brutal. I look at the clock on the wall for the millionth time. The doctor still hasn’t come back out to tell
me what’s going on. I’ve been waiting for a half an hour. I glance at the nurse behind the desk. She looks at me and then her gaze skitters away.
I stand and pull out my phone again. Shouldn’t there be someone else I should call? Does my father even have friends? There are probably a million things I should be doing right now but I have no idea what they are. Things a good son would do. But then I’m not a good son, am I?
I was yelling at him. Christ.
The door from the outer corridor opens and Finn walks in. A second later, Gabe and Zack follow.
A sense of relief fills me to overflowing. I sit down suddenly, sagging against the chair.
“I came as soon as I got your message.” Finn takes the chair next to me. Gabe and Zack take the ones across the aisle.
“How is he doing?” Gabe asks.
“I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything.” My voice cracks slightly.
Finn’s hand lands on my shoulder. “He’s going to be okay. He’s too cranky to die. Isn’t it only the good who die young?”
I know he’s trying to make me feel better but his words just work on the guilt I’m already feeling. “I was yelling at him. I told him he was a bastard who would die alone.”
“It’s not your fault.”
I look up at Zack’s voice. Gabe and Finn look over at him, too. He speaks so rarely that it’s always something of a shock.
Gabe grins at us. “Yeah, he comes out to play sometimes.”
“Shut up, Gabe,” Zack responds, but there’s a wealth of history behind it. It reminds me of how I fight with Finn. “All I’m saying is, it’s not your fault. Any one of us could have been there when it happened. Hell, I yelled at him when I saw him, too.” He runs his hands over his shaved head. The intricate designs tattooed on his scalp stand out in stark relief against his pale skin.