Power Play

by Landish, Lauren

  Chapter 31

  Madison

  Daily Horoscope, November 5th

  Libra - There is the pain of suffering, the pain of loss, the pain of regret . . . but there is also the joyful pain of healing to live another day.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  I know that sound. Hell, anyone who’s grown up in the TV age has to know that sound. It’s a heart monitor. Which means I’m in a hospital. Which means I’m alive.

  The joy is instant, the confusion hot on its heels. What happened? I remember . . . something. Heat. Fear.

  I hear a kind voice, calm and reassuring next to me, “Hey, you’re okay. Take a gentle breath. Easy now.”

  I crack open my eyes to see a young woman, barely older than me, wearing blue scrubs. I do as she says, taking in a slow, deep breath and wincing at the pain as the cool air moves through my body.

  “Good job. You’re in the hospital but you’re doing fine. Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

  I take a moment, forcing my spinning mind to focus on a task and evaluate my body. “Well . . . mostly, it’s my head. It’s throbbing. And my leg hurts.”

  The nurse nods. “Well, you just relax. Let me grab the doc and we’ll see if we can get you some pain meds.”

  She pokes her head out of the sliding doorway that looks sort of like an airlock. A second later, she reappears with a grey-haired man wearing a matching set of scrubs.

  “Welcome back, Madison. I’m Dr. McDermott. The nurse says your head and leg are bothering you?”

  I try to nod, but the movement is more difficult than it should be. My neck feels stiff, immobile.

  Dr. McDermott stops me. “Oh, let’s try not to move your neck for a couple more days. Everything’s fine, swelling is going down now, but the muscles are going to be sore, and the internal structures still need a bit of healing time.”

  “More days?” I ask, catching the first part of his speech before losing track of what he’s talking about.

  “Oh, yes, you’ve been with us for two days now. Healing well,” he reassures me.

  “Two days?” I ask, surprised. “I’ve been here two days?”

  “Three, actually. They had you in the ICU for the first twenty-four hours,” the nurse says.

  “What . . . what happened?” I murmur, not sure if I’m asking them or myself. I try to rack my brain, but it’s all fuzzy and makes the throbbing worse.

  Dr. McDermott answers me, thankfully, stopping my pain-inducing train of thought. “You were in an accident. You sustained a pretty nasty burn to your left leg,” the doctor says, and I look down to see my entire left thigh wrapped in white gauze. “You’re young, so it’s too early to tell, but you could end up with a scar. More worrisome, though, was your head injury. You took a hard double-hit to the head. You’ll likely have a headache for several more days, but you should be fine.”

  His words give focus to the confused images in my mind as I try to think. I remember driving, then the lights, and a bump. “Rich,” I murmur, shivering. “He made me crash, attacked me. I fought back but he must have really fucked me up.”

  “You’re lucky the damage isn’t worse. It seems you had a guardian angel that night. He’s been watching over you ever since too.”

  “Angel?” I ask, confused. “I don’t . . . I don’t even remember an accident. Just flashes.”

  “That’s probably a good thing for now, but it’ll likely come back to you.”

  I shiver, and the doctor pats my shoulder. “That’s nothing to worry about right now. You need to relax and focus on getting better. By the way, someone’s waiting for you outside. Would you like a visitor?”

  “Aunt May?” I ask, and the doctor shakes his head as he goes for the door.

  “Three nice ladies—May, Tiffany, and Stella—have been here around the clock, but they just stepped out,” the doctor says. He opens the door and gestures to someone, then leaves. My heart skips a beat when Scott steps in.

  “Madison, I—” Scott whispers, stepping forward before stopping. “They wouldn’t let me see you except through a window.” His voice cracks almost as much as mine has been, but his seems to be choked with emotion.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  Scott swallows. “He was chasing you, bumping you with his car, and I watched you flip. Your car skidded across the parking lot, and I died inside thinking there was no way you’d be okay after that. I ran for you, but Rich got there first, cutting you out of the burning car. As fucked up as it is, I’m glad he did or the burns would’ve been worse.” His eyes track down to my leg, and I feel the anger in his gaze, even through the gauze.

  “But then he started choking you, and I tackled him. We fought . . .” Scott tells me the story of how he punched a knife-wielding Rich, eventually knocking him out.

  I can see the ghost of a shiner on his cheek. Rich must’ve gotten in a decent punch or two, but it sounds like Scott was my guardian angel like the doctor said. I don’t know what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been there. I don’t remember all of what he’s telling me, but I remember fighting like hell as long as I could. I also remember giving up and letting the darkness take me to avoid whatever Rich had planned. I’m glad Scott didn’t give up on me.

  “Why were you there?” Though I intend for my words to sound grateful, they sound accusatory.

  Scott winces. “Be patient, please. I’m still so jumbled on all this, and it seems so long ago now. You left, and I was devastated, so angry with myself that I’d fucked up, and I didn’t know what to do. Give you time? Chase after you? While I tried to figure it out, I went to work and got word . . . the board went with my proposal.”

  “Congratulations.” I say, meaning it sincerely because I know it was his dream.

  Scott nods automatically. “Thanks. But . . . I didn’t care. It felt meaningless. Empty. What I wanted was you. So I left and went to Stella’s, but traffic was . . . well, whatever. When I finally found you, it was just as Rich flipped your car.” He stares off into space for a moment, and it’s like I can see the scene replaying across his mind as he tenses and grimaces at the images only he can see.

  “When we were fighting, Rich was such an asshole, still mouthing about how you needed him. I reminded him how you were strong, didn’t need him or anyone else, and are so fucking beautiful in your independence. I meant it. Every word.”

  I interrupt him, already seeing the truth on his face as he speaks but fishing for him to spell it out. “Really?”

  He grabs my hand, dropping to his knees beside the bed. “Fuck, Madison. I never meant to make you feel like I thought you were weak or like I was trying to take control of your life. I never should’ve done what I did. Flat out, I had no right. I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I was just so scared, and I overreacted and wanted to protect you, but . . . I never meant to crush you. I want you to shine like the badass you are.”

  His words are jumbled, running over one another as he tries to express himself, but I hear the underlying honesty in them. The truth is that he didn’t mean to hurt me and does think I’m strong and capable, even appreciates that about me. Under his gaze, I feel that way too, even if I am down for the moment.

  I look into his eyes and realize another difference between Rich and Scott. Scott did what he did not to keep me under his thumb, but to free me in his own way.

  He never pressured me to stay with him or to move in. He let me take time even when he was full-throttle committed to me. It was seriously presumptuous and fucked up, but we both come with some damage and baggage, and I can see this situation played right into both of our fears and insecurities. And no matter what, I know how I feel.

  “I forgive you,” I reply, squeezing his hand.

  What else is there to say? I mean, the man saved my life, and the other shit that happened wasn’t his fault.

  Scott lets out a sigh of disbelief. “Thank you. Fuck, I know that forgiving me is one thing but being with me is another. But I
love you, Madison. So fucking much.”

  “I love you too,” I whisper.

  Scott stands up to lean over the bed, planting a tender, sweet kiss to my lips. As we part, I lick my lips, tasting the stale coffee on his breath, and I know that he’s been here, by my side, not in front of or behind me, the whole time. I’m already strong, whole all by myself, even with the dings and cracks in my spirit. But his presence makes me feel like a better version of me, like his love smooths over those fissures, both appreciating them and filling them with sparkly, glittery bits of love.

  Damn, maybe those pain meds the nurse swooshes into my IV are kicking in.

  In my mind, I can hear Dolly’s sweet voice . . . This ol’ heart ain’t gonna break your heart again.

  Chapter 32

  Scott

  Daily Horoscope, November 10th

  Scorpio – Dreams are nebulous things, ever changing as you do.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” I ask, knowing it’s the tenth time in as many minutes.

  Madison rolls her eyes at me, the same response I’ve received the last five times. The first five, she was patient and understanding. Now, I have no doubt she’s about to kick me out of my own bedroom.

  “Fine, I get it. I’m just nervous to leave you,” I admit. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  Madison doesn’t nod, knowing that it’s still uncomfortable to do so, but she hums her agreement. “Mmmhmm. Just send in Marisol with breakfast when it’s ready. I want to eat before Tiff gets here later.”

  Marisol was one of our first negotiations as a newly reconciled couple. The doctor had stated that Madison would need a dressing change to her bandaged leg twice per day once she came home, and she’d wanted a home health nurse to visit for the procedure. I’d laughingly vetoed that idea before backtracking to suggest—strongly suggest—that having a short-term nurse actually move in with us for the care made more sense. It’d taken some conversation, communication, and negotiation, but when Madison had met Marisol, instantly connecting over their love of music and dubbing themselves ‘The M&Ms’, I’d definitely been the winner. Well, and Madison won too, considering she got round-the-clock care in the comfort of my penthouse. It’s still ‘my’ penthouse, not ‘ours’ as she asserts the living situation is short-term, but I’m hopeful we can negotiate that, too.

  “You got it, baby.” I pause, plopping carefully on the bed next to her. “You know, I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to. The board scheduled the meeting when we thought you were still going to be in the hospital. I’d thought I could sneak away for a couple of hours while May or Tiff was visiting.”

  “It’s fine. Go to the meeting and take care of some work while you’re there. Disappearing for a week with no notice isn’t exactly up to the Danger standard.” She says it jokingly, but she’s right. Dad has called and texted multiple times, but I’ve ignored them all after sending an email to the board stating I’d had a family emergency and wasn’t to be disturbed. I’d directed them to Robbie, and he’s been a great gatekeeper, holding the hounds at bay while keeping me informed of the news around the office in once-a-day catch-up sessions.

  One of those sessions had been to schedule this mandatory meeting.

  I nod. “I know. I’ve just realized that I don’t want to be my father—nothing like him—and I’m afraid if things keep going the way they were, that’s what I’ll become. I want to love and be loved, not just feared or respected. I want the Danger name to mean community, not a one-man war for individual recognition.”

  Madison reaches up to run her fingers through my hair, and I lean into her touch, needing her. I’ve missed her body. She’s nowhere near ready for me to ravage her, but she’s not even cleared for gentle lovemaking yet. So her touches, little pets of her skin on mine, whether she’s stroking me or I’m brushing along her satiny skin, are all we have right now. It’s enough because she’s enough, just as she is.

  “So do that. You’ve talked about striking out on your own, making your own way. But you don’t have to, Scott. Make the Danger name be exactly what you wish it could be. Make your own dream come true. God knows, you’ve got the drive to do it. So do.”

  I bask in her praise, letting her faith in me settle into my bones, into my heart and soul. With a big breath, I pack it away to take with me, hoping it will buoy me through the day as I walk into a meeting with an agenda that is yet to be disclosed.

  “Thank you, Madison. I’ll check in with Marisol throughout the day. I love you.” I press a kiss to her mouth, groaning as she delights in pressing it deeper, teasing and tempting me and knowing I can’t do a damn thing about it. “Not yet. Dr. McDermott said you’d need another week.”

  She huffs, the pout of her lips extra-adorable because Madison is decidedly not a pouty type of woman. She’s a get-out-of-my-way, get-shit-done type. The surprise of seeing her disappointment at not getting my body eases some of my own urges. We’re in this together, just like everything.

  I stand, walking toward the door and adjusting my cock in my slacks where she can’t see me. No sense in giving her ammunition to tease me further, I think with a smirk.

  “Hey, Scott?” I look back and see the grin on her face, and I know I didn’t hide anything and that she’s well aware of where my hand just was. “Kick some ass, baby. And then come home and tell me all about it.”

  I wink and give her my full, wide smile, knowing it drives her wild. After a quick check-in with Marisol for the day’s plans, I head to the office, choosing to take a Town Car for the day instead of driving myself because I need the time to compose myself.

  I’m unsure what I’m walking into today. It could be as simple as the board wanting an update on Madison, my work plans, and the new partnership with AlphaSystems. It could be much more serious, like them dismissing me for my disappearing act. Or anywhere in between. I realize that I hope it’s not the latter option, liking Madison’s suggestion to make the Danger name into something I’m proud of. I can’t do that if they let me go for abandoning them, but if they can’t see that Madison is more important, then that’s their loss.

  Delores pops up from behind her desk as I enter my office. “Good morning, Mr. Danger.” I nod, returning her greeting, and head to my desk. She follows, mere steps behind, and sets a steaming cup of green tea on my desk. “Thought you might like an early pick-me-up without the jitters of coffee, sir.”

  I love that she doesn’t wait for a response, doesn’t question my plans for the day or anything else. She just returns to her desk and gets back to work. Delores and I are a good team, and I have no doubt she’s kept my office and agenda in tip-top shape in my absence, fixing things to the best of her abilities.

  What she can’t control, no matter how hard she’s tried, is Robbie. He barges in the door, not bothering with knocking or letting Delores announce him. But I grin, giving him a big hug and patting him on the back.

  “How’s she doing, man?” he asks, the same thing he says every day when we talk. I appreciate that he’s accepted Madison as a part of my life, because she’s the most important part.

  “Good. Hanging with Marisol today, and Tiff’s coming over. What about here? Any gossip on the meeting agenda?” I ask, hoping for a nugget, no matter how small.

  He shakes his head. “Nope, not a word. Which means it’s coming from on-high. Anyone else would snitch, but not your dad or his PA. They’re both as tight-lipped as a nun’s pussy.”

  I laugh at his irreverence and rise to offer him a handshake. “Thanks, Robbie. I needed that. Wish me luck, I guess. If not, it’s been a helluva ride . . . and you’d better get ready for an address change because if they kick me outta here, I’m taking your annoying ass with me.”

  “Pshaw, if they kick you out, I’m hauling ass behind you, flying fingers at the board’s sourpusses.” He grins and flips off the ceiling like the old guard upstairs can see.

  It’s time to face the music . . . or maybe just to hear an update, a stupidly wishful, i
nnocent voice whispers. Yeah, doubt that.

  I walk into the boardroom, expecting glares and curious stares, but what I get are concerned expressions of condolences and shock at what happened to Madison. Murmurs of ‘so scary’ and ‘such a lovely young woman at the gala’ reverberate around me. Okay, not so bad . . . maybe.

  Then, my dad walks in and a hush falls over the room as the temperature drops by a degree or two. It’s been over a week since I’ve seen him or talked to him, refusing all contact, and I know he’s beyond pissed at me. But looking at him now, I can’t muster up a single fuck. I’ve been to hell and back, as well as heaven and back, with Madison over the last week. Every pain and exam, every step of progress and bit of regression, every ‘I love you’ and reminder of how badly we almost lost each other. It’s been a lot. And Dad’s petty need for attention seems childish and useless.

  He looks around the table, his eyes landing on me last. Intentionally, I’m sure. His version of a silent slight, but it doesn’t even hit target with my newly-developed apathy regarding him. “Thank you all for coming today. It was so generous of you to take time out of your busy schedules to address some actual work at Danger Enterprises.” Again, everyone in the room knows he’s talking to me, and I can feel their eyes judging my reaction to his insult.

  Finally, after his dramatic pause gets comically long, he continues. “I have led Danger Enterprises for almost forty years, through difficulties and celebrations, creating a name synonymous with strength, calculated risk, and strategy. I take pride in knowing the great things I have created within these walls, this building, and of course, this city.”

  I control the urge to roll my eyes. As if he did all that alone. I’ve only been here for a short time, but there are men and women on this board and in the company who have served for many of those same near-forty years, right alongside my father, who have arguably done just as much, if not more, for the success of the Danger name than Robert Danger himself.