Page 79 of Bidding War

“Dad, am I going to live?”

“What would make you ask? You're in a hospital. Of course, you're going to live.”

I snort a laugh, and it hurts. “People die in hospitals every day.”

“No one dies here. That's why you're here.”

I don't know what to make of that. “You're saying we're in the Disney World of hospitals?”

A glimmer of a smile hits him. That's all I ever get out of the old man. “Something of that nature, yes.”

“Lucky me.”

He sits in the same chair as Mom. “Moss told me what happened.”

By his tone, I can't tell if I'm in more trouble with him or less trouble with him for what I did. “Yeah, I got shot. It happens when you force your son out on?—"

“You got shot for the help.”

Ah. I'm in more trouble with him for what I did. “I see there's no commendation for my bravery coming, huh?”

Barely checked rage simmers behind his eyes. “You had no right to take such a foolish risk! You are my heir! What would happen to the company if you died?”

I smirk at him. “There’s always Cole.”

“If you were not already laid up, I would slap the shit out of you for that.”

No flowery language? No prissiness. Just a threat. That's a lot of fire coming out of the old man. I might have actually gotten to him. “And if I hadn't done what I did, Moss would be dead.”

“Moss is a good man. I like him. But he is not my son.”

“Well then, think about it this way. If Moss had gotten shot, then who would have gotten us out of there? Edgar Jones was out for blood. He would have killed us both.”

Dad shakes his head. “You were not thinking of that when you jumped in front of a bullet. You were thinking of Moss as a friend, and you are just the type of sap to jump in front of a bullet for a friend.”

He's got me there. “I did what I did. It's done now.”

“You don't seem to get it, Anderson. I need you to understand this. No more jumping in front of bullets for Moss. Not ever again. He is a good man, but he is the help. The help will not inherit my company. You will. I need you to stay alive to do that.”

“You do understand that the help are people too, right?”

He scrubs his hand over his face. “There is us, and there is everyone else in the world. They can die in a fire for all I care.”

This man knows how to piss me off faster than anybody else. I brace to sit up, but just doing that sends pain shooting through me again. “Fuck.”

“If you keep up that nonsense, you will tear your stitches again. Sit still.”

“You don't even get it, do you? I am in this hospital bed, tearing my stitches because of you. I got shot because of you. You forced me into the ride-alongs with Moss. You have put me in the line of fire more than once. You don't get to pretend that I did something wrong by trying to do the right thing.”

He huffs out a breath. “You still don't understand that the right thing is to save yourself. I don't know how to make you understand that. With any luck, your recovery will do that for me. Every time you hurt, and you want to scream in pain, remember this. You made the decision to jump in front of that bullet. The help are not worth it.”

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43

JUNE

It’s unlike Anderson to willingly shut me out, which leaves two options. Either his father is keeping him from contacting me. Or something went wrong with Moss. I am going to have to track him down somehow.

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