Chapter 4 #2
I gave him my sunniest smile. “I think that Horse set us up, because he thinks you’re my birth father.” What? Had I said that out loud? What was wrong with me? In what world would I ever blurt something out like that? He really was a super truther, or I was more faint than I thought.
He blinked at me, a world of shock and awe in those eyes that he quickly covered with good manners. “Does he? Sunshine is the name your mother gave you? Do you remember her?”
“She died giving me life. Apparently, she was an idiot. Sorry, I shouldn’t say that about…Was she your wife or just a fling?”
He blinked twice then turned back to the Monet painting that was so soothing, so perfect for this kind of drama if you didn’t like to really fly off the handle in public.
He was not a public flying-off-the-handle person.
Or in private, most likely. He was calm, cool, collected, and in control.
There was something awfully unnerving about that.
I was a mess. A dying, out-of-control disaster, like a plant that had been neglected for fifty years that couldn’t keep its mouth shut. I touched my forehead. Was I feverish?
His words were low, considering. “We were married for nearly four years. We married early, because she never wanted to waste a moment.”
“Oh.” This was so unbelievably awkward. I mean, how would this guy feel, hearing about his wife dying to have some random girl, who was claiming to be his birth daughter?
“I’m sorry about all of this. It must be a terrible shock.
” I stood up, reeled slightly, but there was his arm, once more steady, waiting for me to grab onto it.
He wasn’t going to touch me, because he knew how to be with delicate females, but he would always be waiting to catch me.
How bizarre.
He’d ‘been with’ my mom, or she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant, so the virgin thing with Nix was definitely unnecessary.
I wanted to ask him about it, but luckily, my sense of decorum kicked in before I could really embarrass everybody.
I had to find a way to block his super truther power before I ended up humiliated forever.
“I’ll escort you to your bodyguard,” he said, like bodyguards were totally normal.
“I appreciate it. The last time Horse caught me, I was bruised for days. You have a gentle touch.” Wow.
That had come out like I was hitting on him.
“I mean, an artist’s touch. Like Nix, my husband.
He’s amazingly gentle, particularly considering what he does for a living.
He’s too sweet, really. He doesn’t want to hurt me, so he won’t…
” I pressed my lips together before I said anything that would necessitate me jumping off the nearest building instead of waiting for my death sentence to kick in.
“It’s good to hear that Hammer has a civilized side. Perhaps I won’t have to stab him the next time I see him.”
I stopped walking, frowning at him instead.
“It’s Death-Hammer. You know my husband?
” And his mother. Shivers. What was that about stabbing him?
Were we talking about needles? Speaking of, I really needed more drugs to keep me functioning if I couldn’t even walk across a room without getting all weak and adorable.
Nothing says adorable like smacking your face on the floor and then having convulsions.
“Not well, but he visited me once when he was younger, and then more recently. Of course, who doesn’t know about the Three Hundred and its reigning champion? That is, he would have won if there wasn’t external interference. Rockets can be so disruptive.”
What was he talking about? I frowned at him, because I was starting to feel like we were talking at cross purposes. He was way too calm about finding out he had a birth daughter. Also helping me to the chair. Also walking with me to Tom.
“Get away from her!” Aunt Willie screeched, coming in the door, dropping her shopping bags, and then running towards us, fists clenched like she was ready to use her kick-boxing on him.
No way she’d be that nuts. Okay, there was a way, because she seriously punched Flowers, whose arm I was still holding, but he only turned, stepping out of range of her punch, then put me between them so Aunt Willie would have to punch me to get to him.
She looked deep into my eyes, and mouthed, “Duck!”
I automatically dropped down, so Flowers took her fist right to his nose. It made a terrible sound, skin, bone, and cartilage, but when I looked up at Flowers, he still looked completely calm in spite of the mess my aunt had made of his formerly perfect face.
“Jeanette Wilson? What did you do?” he asked, like he didn’t notice the blood running down his chin, dripping onto his muted blue suit. Couldn’t he tell that she’d broken his nose? Also, how did he know her?
Aunt Willie grabbed my arm and pulled me away from him.
He offered no resistance, of course not, because that would hurt me, and he didn’t hurt women.
Still, he was awfully cool. I wouldn’t say cold, unless that was icy rage in his eyes that rippled like some act of nature, threatening to destroy everything in its way.
I only saw a flicker of that before it was gone, vanished like it had never been.
I shivered while Aunt Willie put herself between us, like she was a body shield or something ridiculous like that. “You have no rights here,” she said, voice trembling with emotion. “You stay far away from my niece.”
“Your niece?” His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced from Aunt Willie to me. “Is that true? Is this person your aunt?” He was still bleeding and Aunt Willie was acting like a psychopath.
I shook her off and grabbed some tissues out of my bag that I handed to him, shooting my aunt a glare that I changed to a smile when I focused on him.
You didn’t punch big money in the face. Particularly in public with witnesses.
He could put her in jail or sue her for everything she had.
Thanks to my treatments, it wasn’t a lot.
“I’m so sorry. Aunt Willie can be overprotective of me. Please accept our apologies. She didn’t mean to hurt you. She was only intent on protecting me.”
He dabbed his nose with the tissue, like he’d only just realized that she’d broken it, looking at me with calm consideration.
“Of course. Having a protective aunt is ideal. And your father? Angus Wilson, I presume.” His eyes hardened imperceptibly.
I’d never heard of anyone call him Angus.
It was always Gus or Doc Willie. Did Flowers consider my dad the ‘other man’?
And Aunt Willie had broken his nose? Could things get any more awkward?
Probably if I suddenly started convulsing on the floor.
I should definitely avoid that. This scene already had enough flavor.
I licked my lips. Angus. So weird. “He was. He passed away a few years ago.”
He gave Aunt Willie a look, like he’d expected better from her.
It was the kind of thing you’d get from a parent.
Disappointment because you’d just blown your great potential.
“I see. Miss Jeanette, I would like to dine with you this evening, five thirty, meet me in the lobby if you would be so kind. I believe we have private matters to discuss.”
I put up my hands, like I could stop this freight train.
No way my Aunt needed to be anywhere near this guy who was almost definitely related to me.
Also, any matters he had to discuss would be about me or my mother, so I should be there.
Next time, I wouldn’t duck and she’d have to live with the guilt of breaking my nose.
I shouldn’t have let her hit him, but my survival instincts kicked in, like my dad had taught me so long ago.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s still jet-lagged, or she wouldn’t have lost it like that. Why don’t we all go out to a nice dinner and—”
“All right,” she said, cutting me off. She gave Flowers a frosty look before she linked my arm with hers and pulled me away from him and towards the door.
“Aunt Willie,” I hissed, but she wasn’t letting me go, and she wasn’t slowing down. She had that look in her eye, like we were going to pack everything in ten minutes, or better yet, jump in a taxi and send for everything later.
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” she said as we left the gallery.
I sputtered at the nerve of that. Seriously?
She knows I have a birth father and she doesn’t tell me about him, and I have some explaining to do?
Pfft! “No, you have explaining to do! Who is that guy? How do you know him? Was he really married to my mother? Did she name me after his mom? What’s going on? ”
She shook her head tightly as we walked away.
Well, she was still kind of dragging me.
I’d have some good bruises, which she knew, but she was dragging me anyway.
A few bruises never hurt anyone. That’s what she’d say.
I usually agreed, but I’d been so spoiled with Nix, and Flowers, actually, so I’d have to say that it did hurt. A lot.
“I’m not leaving,” I said, digging in my heels and pulling my arm away from her grasp. Ow. Oh well. I’d survived much worse.
She whirled around to face me, but she took a second to look past me at the doorway to the gallery, like she was worried Flowers would follow us. “Excuse me? You have no idea the kind of situation you’re in right now.”
“And whose fault is that? I’m not running away. I’m dying, like soon. There’s nowhere to run from that. I really like my husband. You can’t control me anymore.”
Her nostrils flared as she tried really hard to control her temper which was fueled by her fear. I saw the fear, and it was fear for me, but she couldn’t protect me from things I didn’t know about. I wasn’t a child. This was my life she was trying to control.
“You think that I’m trying to control you? I’m trying to protect you. Do you know what that man would do with you?”
“Dissect me in a lab and experiment on my blood and tissue samples?” I shrugged. I’d had a lot of that my whole life. I was already dying. Maybe studying my cells would do good for somebody else. There were worse things.
“Lock you up in a tower for your own safety,” she said, sneering at that last word.
“From the looks of him, I bet it would be a pretty cushy tower.” I gave her a half smile, but she only shook her head slightly.
“I’m married. I’m a grown-up. He’s not going to kidnap me.
” Except that’s exactly what Horse had done and what DuPré tried to do.
It was ludicrous to think of someone that reserved and appropriate kidnapping someone.
Although if I was his daughter, would it even be kidnapping?
He had so much money, so many lawyers, could probably get me for insanity or inability to care for myself if he wanted to bother with some stranger he’d never met.
Truthfully, in a few months, I wouldn’t be able to take care of myself.
It hit me hard for a second, how miserable it would be to watch everyone else watching me die, so helpless in the face of my diseases.
I’d have to fake happiness so other people wouldn’t worry.
I didn’t want to be like that when I was full up with pain.
That’s why I liked Nix, who had greeted my upcoming death announcement with a hunger for Trix’s spaghetti.
She’d also taken the news well. They were people who liked pain, or at least didn’t mind it, or they wouldn’t do what they did.
And I really, really liked being with my husband whose touch was always just right.
“Tom,” I said, calling back at the man who was four steps behind. He looked concerned, like he wasn’t sure what to do with my aunt. I could relate.
“Mrs. Death-Hammer?”
“I’d like you to take us to see Nix. This is my Aunt Willie. Isn’t she beautiful? She’s way too pretty to be a doctor. Don’t you think Nix will love her? It won’t be too much of a bother to drop in on him at work now, would it? He doesn’t have anything right this minute?”
He blinked at me and then shook his head. “No, of course we can drop by the compound if you want to see him. The car’s still waiting, and we can order groceries while we’re gone. Housekeeping can put things away so you can rest when we get back.”
He was saying that I didn’t look so good or he wouldn’t mention me resting. “That sounds perfect, except we’ll take my car. Also, does Nix have a lawyer? We might need one because my aunt punched someone for absolutely no reason.” I frowned at her.
Aunt Willie sniffed. “He’s right, you look like you could lay down for a week. Did you give blood recently? Why?”
“Why did you punch Flowers? Is he actually my birth father? Why didn’t you tell me about him? At the very least, we could have extorted money out of him all along.”
She snorted that time, a very unladylike sound, almost as if she wanted to disgust Flowers and his precious manners. She actually had impeccable manners when she wasn’t punching strangers in the face. She always told me to sit up straight and not slurp my soup, that kind of thing.
She didn’t answer me, either because she didn’t want to talk in front of Tom, or because she didn’t want to talk to me.
I was starting to get really angry. I wasn’t going to stomp my foot or punch someone, because I didn’t have energy for it, and I hated violence so much.
Still, this was my life she was playing with, like it wasn’t any of my business at all.
“You don’t want to tell me about my birth dad? Fine. You can meet Nix, my husband, instead.”
Aunt Willie hesitated and then nodded, like she’d been planning that all along.