I grip the steering wheel as every muscle in my body tightens. “Just tell me.”
Derek sighs. “Dude, seriously.”
I pull the car to the shoulder. “Tell me or I’ll push you out of the car and make you walk back.”
“But it’s raining.” He doesn’t question the fact I’ll do it.
“Derek! Goddamn it!”
“He’s got a brain tumor!” he yells back.
The news hangs between us. We’re both panting as we stare at each other. The realization settles, robbing the car of air. “Is he…?” I swallow the rest of my words.
“It’s terminal.”
I face forward as I go numb. No, not numb. I’ve got so many emotions screaming inside me, I can’t make sense of any of them. “How long?”
“Docs give him maybe another three months.”
My chest collapses from the weight of the news. I can’t breathe. I close my eyes against the harsh, bullshit reality crashing around me. It’s too much. It’s crushing me.
Derek’s hand on my shoulder pulls my attention. I open my eyes and look at him. When I spot the tears in his eyes, I lose it. Mine swell with the pain of knowing I’ll have to say good-bye to a man I’ve done nothing but push away. I’ll have to bury my father before summer.
“Come here.” He unbuckles and pulls me into his arms. I thump my fist against his back as my emotions are too much to keep in. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s going to be okay.”
“No,” I bark hoarsely and repeat the word over and over. I feel so helpless, so small. I’m that kid again wishing I had five more minutes with my dad before he pushes me to the next nanny in line. I collect myself and push away, blowing out several breaths to regroup and using my sleeve to wipe at my eyes.
“I’m not going to lie,” Derek says in a thick voice, using his sleeve to do the same. At least that’s something we have in common. “I can’t do this without you.”
“You won’t have to. I’ll leave school. I can be home by the end of the weekend.” I think of Emma. I can’t do this without her. It’s spring break next week. Maybe she’d be willing to come with me. I pull the car back onto the road, the need to see my dad front and center.
“No. That’s one thing Dad said he wouldn’t allow. You have to finish school.”
“Then…” I scramble to think of something. “I’ll change majors. He wants me to get a business degree. I’ll work for the company. It’s what he wants.”
“It’s not going to change anything. This is something even the great Stuart Ryan has no control over.”
I park the Mercedes on the street in front of the Delta frat and stare at the house. A month ago my only want was to be a part of the house, to have my brothers treat me like, well, a brother. Now I’d rather spend time with my real brother, to get as much time with my dad as I can before he’s gone.
“You know,” Derek says. “Being a Delta isn’t for everyone.” I look at him. “Neither is a business degree.”
I nod and let out a shaky breath. He’s offering an olive branch, so I offer one of my own. If we’re going to get through this, we have to put our differences aside. We have to be a family. “You have to be pretty damn smart to get a business degree. So I hear.”
“That you do.”
“Not sure how you got one,” I quip.
He chuckles. “I’ve been asking myself that for two years, bro.” He slaps my shoulder. “Come on. We don’t want the ice cream to melt.”
“We got ice cream?” I open the door and meet him at the trunk. Not only did we get ice cream, we got a dozen bags of groceries. “This is going to take us more than one trip.”
“Ten bucks says we can do it in one.”
“Twenty says I can carry more than you.”
We fight over the bags and each has our arms so loaded we’re both grunting by the time we make it to the mod. Neither one of us has a free hand to even knock, let alone open the door. For some insane reason, this causes us to bust out in hysterical laughter.
Emma throws open the door, her eyes wide as she bounces her gaze between my brother and me. “Did you two take advantage of our state’s liberal marijuana law?”
We laugh louder and walk inside. As soon as I see my dad, I drop the groceries and walk to him, not slowing until I throw my arms around him. “I love you, Dad.”
“Derek must have told you.” He hugs me back and blows out a breath.
I pull back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to so many times.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m sorry to put this on you boys.”
Leave it to the most selfish man I thought I knew to apologize for having a brain tumor, like it’s somehow his fault. “I’m coming home.”
“No, you are not leaving school, son.”
“Just for break,” I clarify and snag Emma’s attention. “Will you come with me?”
“I’d love to.” She nods and takes my hand. I pull her into my arms and hold on for dear life. There’s no way we can break up, not now. I can’t lose her, too.
I notice a red stain on my couch. A huge red stain. Ending our hug, I approach the furniture. “Is that wine?” I then turn to my dad and note he’s no longer wearing his sweater, and that his white shirt has several red splotches. No way did he spill that much wine all over himself. “Emma? What happened?”
“About that.” She smiles sheepishly. “I kind of threw a drink in your dad’s face.”
I stiffen and clench my hands into fists. There’s no way I’m going to fight my dad, but I’m definitely not happy about hearing he did something to upset her enough to throw a drink at him. I glare at him. “What’d you do?”
“I was an asshole. Oh, and a…” He regards her. “What was it?”
“A Delta dick,” she mutters and bites down on her lower lip. She’s so damn cute looking like she’s in some sort of trouble. It makes me love her even more.
“Her words,” Dad adds. “They leave nothing to question.”
“Are you okay?” I rush to her side.
“I’m fine.” She rolls her eyes and pushes me away, irritating me. “Stuart apologized. He even let me win at gin rummy.”
“I didn’t let you win,” he points out and reaches for the groceries I dropped. “She’s better than you, Harold.”
“Who do you think taught her how to play?” I chuckle as I grab the rest of the groceries and set them on the counter next to the ones Derek carried in. As he throws a towel over the couch and sits with Dad, I watch them. Will I have that kind of relationship with my dad before he’s gone? I don’t know the answer, but I’m sure as hell going to try. Here I’ve been convinced he’s the stubborn, selfish bastard when I’m the one who refuses his help. I’m the one who does the opposite of what he wants just because it’s the opposite of what he wants. Who’s the real stubborn, selfish bastard?
“Are you okay?” Emma asks softly and helps me unload the groceries. “Your dad told me.”
“He tells my girlfriend before he tells me. Awesome.” I squeeze the can in my hand until I shake.
“I see you’ve moved into the anger stage.”
“I’m bouncing between anger and bargaining.”
“What about depression?”
I nod and swallow thickly. “I think that’s mixed in there somewhere, too.”
“I’d be worried if it wasn’t. You and your dad may not see eye-to-eye, but he’s still your dad. I hate mine, but if he showed up at my door, I’d want to spend time with him. I’d take advantage of every moment I had left with him.”
41
TREX HQ
Bailey stared at the board. The connection was right there. She just needed to find it. Every retrieval Ryan sent in added layers to the board, but didn’t get them any closer to what Stuart Ryan had up his sleeve.
David walked into the room and stopped next to her to stare at the board. She didn’t know where else to turn. Her BIL saw patterns when no one else saw them. It’d been how he’
d tracked down a cyber-terrorist’s next target before the madman could strike, saving countless lives.
“Thank you for coming. I hope Charis isn’t too mad at me for dragging you away again.”
“It’s a good thing I earn double miles on flights. I’m racking them up pretty fast on this find.” He nodded at the board. “What have we got?”
“Stuart Ryan just funded a research facility, this one in California. Ryan’s latest data retrieval, along with his insider information, confirms it. It makes no sense. A football stadium. A new arena. Those make sense. He’s a sports nut. But a research facility? It doesn’t fit the pattern.”
“Because you’re looking at the wrong pattern.” He approached the board and pointed at each project the Ryan Foundation had funded. “Take them out of chronological order and put them in order of importance.”
“I’m not following.” Which drove her crazy. She wished she had the ability to pick up on patterns invisible to 99% of the population.
“You’re going to kick yourself when I show you. You sure you don’t want me to give you a few hints and have you figure it out on your own? It’s pretty obvious.”
“You don’t have to boast.” She felt bad enough already. “Just show me.”
“Okay,” he sang, the arrogant ass. He didn’t need to be so damn sure of himself. As he reordered the board, her computer beeped, signaling a message in a chat window. David glanced over his shoulder. “Who’s that?”
“It’s Ryan.” She sat at the table and answered. How can I help you, Cadet Ryan?
We need to talk.
“Nothing good ever comes from those four words,” she muttered.
“What four words?” David asked, facing her. “What’s going on? Is something up with the kid?”
He liked Ryan. Bailey recognized the signs. David only gave nicknames to people he liked. She responded to Ryan’s chat. Now?
Please.
“He wants me to call him. He sounds upset.”
“You got all that from a text?”
Bailey shook her head to disregard his comment. “It’s not what he saying. It’s how he’s saying it.”
“If you say so.”
“Look, you’ve got your pattern recognition. I’ve got text tone recognition.” She stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Text tone? Was that even a thing? She dialed the number.
“Bailey?” Ryan rushes out, which is another flag. He doesn’t rush anything when it comes to his words.
“What’s wrong?”
“Put him on speaker,” David orders.
“I’m putting you on speaker.” She set the phone between them.
“What’s up, kid?”
“Agent Snyder, sir.”
Bailey didn’t miss the tip in David’s lips at being called sir. He definitely liked Ryan. “What’s going on, Ryan? Why’d you need me to call?”
“I found something. I don’t know what it means. Well, maybe I do. But I don’t want to know what it means. I mean, I do. Ah, Jesus.”
“Take a breath,” David said and leaned on the table. “Start over. What did you find?”
“The connection.”
David and Bailey exchanged glances before he went on. “The connection to what?”
“I know why my dad has been jumping on the college board bandwagon.”
Bailey read the board, paying extra attention to the pieces David moved. What did he see that she didn’t? Was it the same connection Ryan had come to?
“Why’s that?” David asked.
“Politics. It’s the logical leap. He’s buying his way onto all these college boards, which gives him way too much power. He can hand pick the college presidents, has influence over the funding. Politics is the next step. He’s already in with so many politicians as it is being a member of so many boards.”
David nodded and grinned. Bailey dropped her jaw and spun around, desperate to find the same connection. What did any of this have to do with politics?
“Nice job, kid. So you know, it’s senate, to be exact.”
“You already knew? How long have you known?”
“About five minutes.”
There was a long pause before Ryan asked, “I can’t believe my dad wanted to be a senator.”
“What do you mean wanted?”
“It’s uh…” Ryan’s voice changed, grew sad. Thick with emotion. “Brain tumor. He’s not going to make it long enough to be a senator.”
Bailey’s heart broke at the news. It wasn’t the fact Stuart Ryan wouldn’t be a senator. It was the sound of Ryan’s voice. The absolute raw grief in his tone.
“You completed your first assignment, Ryan.” David called him by name. “Nice job. You deserve a little time off. Go spend it with your dad.”
“Thank you, sir.” His voice shook.
“Hey, kid? Hang in there. You’ve got a pretty big family now. We’ve got your back. See ya.” David ended the call and rubbed at his eyes. “Jesus.”
“David?”
“He’s a good kid.” He stood and placed his back to her. “If he reaches out again, call me.”
[Ryan]
Why can’t people remember their passwords? How hard is it to type? As I sit here at the front desk, resetting password after password, my mind drifts to Emma. She’s inside the lab, struggling through her Java class, probably making up some saying like Sweet baby Jesus in a car seat or something equally nonsensical. I love her sayings. And her hair. And eyes. And, yes, even her snarky comments. I love everything about her.
Which is why this agreement sucks. I have to break up with her tomorrow at the DASH and I’d rather cut off my own arm. It’s what she wants, so I’ll honor that. She’ll move on. I’ll eventually move on. I wish I had someone to talk to. The only person I can talk to about this is the reason why my gut has been in knots since I woke up this morning.
What happens after we break up? She’s already agreed to come home with me over spring break. It’s after we break up. What’s that mean? Is she only coming with me as a friend? Or does that mean she doesn’t want me to break up with her? I’m so confused. Frustrated. I can’t make sense of anything anymore.
“Ryan? Can I talk to you?” Nancy Pettigrew approaches the desk, a weird smile on her face. If this is another one of her bitchfests about Emma, I’ll shut her down and walk away. I’m tired of hearing the shit she talks about my girlfriend, fake or not. After last night, I don’t know how fake it is between us. I can’t think straight. I’m so torn about what to do. She’s everything to me. I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her. I need her. She keeps me sane by driving me insane. It makes no sense and yet I love every minute of it.
“Today, Ryan.”
I’m about to tell Nancy I can’t leave the desk when Brandon returns from break. Without any reason to stay, I stand and give her a nod as I stop in front of her. “What can I help you with?”
“Alone?”
Shit. I see the way she eyes me, like a piece of meat she wants to take a bite out of. I don’t trust her. Once we’re away from any eavesdroppers, she turns to me. Her sinister smile spreads and the knots in my gut twist. “What’s up?”
She hands me papers. I take them and drop my attention, recognizing the work right away. It’s Emma’s midterm—the one I did for her. My nerves tighten. “It’s code. So?”
“It’s Emma Rae’s code,” Nancy adds.
“She got a B.” I try to hand the papers back to her.
“I’ve reviewed every one of her projects. She’s never even done C work. Professor Baker is too easy on his grading system. When I become a teacher, I won’t let someone with red hair from a bottle and big green eyes trick me into giving her a grade she doesn’t deserve.”
I happen to know for a fact her red hair doesn’t come from a bottle, but I’m not about to point that out to Nancy. And Emma’s eyes are more hazel than green. I keep that to myself as well. “What does any of this have to do with me?”
“I just thought you’d
like to know why I’ll be going to the dean to get her kicked out of BU. You can be her comforting shoulder as you help her pack up her dorm.”
My heart seizes. Shit. She knows. “Why would you go to the dean just because Emma got a good grade on her midterm?”
“Because she didn’t do her midterm.” Nancy smiles as she pauses for dramatic effect. “You did.”
“What are you talking about?” I do my best to feign shock, but I’m not a very good liar. The guilt burns into my cheeks.
“I pulled some of your old code when you took this class. Did you know the way a person programs is like a fingerprint? It’s how some hackers are caught. It’s like a trademark. You, Ryan, code with efficiency. You understand object-oriented programming and have very few dependencies in your work. Emma’s code is all over the place. She clearly doesn’t understand what she’s doing. That alone is enough to prove you wrote this, not her.”
I set my jaw. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” She smirks and I tense. Why is she doing this? Does she hate me? Emma? What? What drives a person to want to take down another person so desperately? “Did you know this isn’t the only class I TA? I also TA a creative writing class.”
Oh, shit.
That smirk grows to a maleficent grin. The glimmer in her eyes can’t be good. “I can see by that look on your face, you know where I’m going with this. In a class you’re barely passing, you scored a B. Funny how you suddenly jump up a grade in a creative writing class, a subject Emma is very good in, and she turns in almost flawless code. How can that possibly be?”
Now I’m pissed and struggle to control my temper. “Why do you know so much about her?” Maybe if I get her talking about why she’s doing this, catch her in something, she’ll back off.
She narrows that cool glare. “I don’t like dishonest students. Emma doesn’t deserve to pass this class. Hell, she doesn’t deserve to be at Bainbridge University if she’s going to cheat her way through. She doesn’t deserve that scholarship your dad offers. Did she sleep with you to get that?”
I’m numb. I’m pissed, yet I’m numb. “Is that why you’re doing this? Because she got the scholarship?”
Reluctant Hero (TREX Rookies Book 1) Page 29