Page 12 of Prodigal

André pushed the door open without a word and entered. Jules was in the middle of the bed, eyes closed. He went to her, touching a hand to her forehead, then her cheek, feeling the warmth of her breath and checking the gentle rise and fall of her chest before releasing a deep breath.

She was safe.

He sat next to her on the edge of the bed and glanced around. This bedroom was way different than the one he’d woken up in. For one thing, this one had color—soft pastels on the walls, the furniture, the rug. Someone who knew what they were doing and actually had taste had decorated this bedroom. Jules’s wheelchair was positioned inches away from him, near the bed, within her reach. A plate dotted with only crumbs sat on a nearby small white table along with an empty glass.

She’d been fed.

He shook his head, so filled with questions, and reached out, stroking Jules’s arm. She’d witnessed something horrific today. Something he wished he could erase from her memory. After their mother’s death, they'd lived a quiet life, one devoid of excitement, just like their mother wanted. Everything abouttheir lives was mundane, but tonight changed that. He needed to make sure Jules was okay and if she wasn’t, figure out a way to ensure that she was.

As if she heard his thoughts, his sister opened her eyes with a deep breath.

“Dré!” She reached for him and he went to her, pulling her into his arms, holding her tight.

“Are you okay?” He released her, cupping the back of her head to examine her face, her eyes. While he’d been out cold for how fucking long, she’d been alone with that guy out there. Gideon. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.” Her gaze tracked his features. “You’re the one who was bleeding.” Worry shook her words. “You passed out and I couldn’t get you to wake up. Thank God Gideon was there.”

He frowned at that. “You know him?”

“Everybody knows him, Dré. He’s been on the news, like, twenty-four-seven since he came back.”

On the news? “Like a reporter?” But no, that didn’t fit. He didn’t know how he knew but he did.

Jules rolled her eyes at him, so clearly she was okay. “Dré, he’s, like, a billionaire ten times over. Everyone thought he died when he was a kid, but it turned out he’d gone into hiding because people were trying to kill him. His dad died and so he came back to run the business. His name is Gideon Winters.”

He gaped at her. “How do you know all this?”

“Because I watch the news.” Her expression said “duh.”

André did his best to avoid the news because there was always something about the man who’d fathered him on there. Some philanthropy he was involved in, a new company he’d acquired, an achievement his kid—the daughter he claimed—a brilliant lawyer, made. He stayed away from it. He didn’t wantto know, but apparently, while he’d been burying his head in the sand, his sister was keeping up with world events.

“Forget about that for a minute. Are you sure you’re okay?” When she nodded, he asked, “What happened when I passed out?” He scooped Jules up in his arms and positioned her into a sitting position against the fluffy pillows, then got onto the bed next to her.

“I didn’t know what to do.” Her voice trembled and she clung to him. “You were out and I couldn’t do anything.”

His heart broke for how scared she must’ve been. “I’m sorry you had to see all of that. That you were so afraid and I wasn’t there to help you.” He hugged her to him, squeezing her lightly as he fought with the emotions roiling inside him.

“Gideon told me he’d take care of you and I believed him.”

Just because she’d seen news reports about him?

“He and his people took us with them, and they brought us here. A doctor was waiting when we arrived, and she looked both of us over and said you’d be okay. Gideon let me watch over you for a while, then he said I should rest because you would want that. And he had his chef make me something to eat, then he brought me here and I fell asleep.”

There were still so many questions banging around in André’s head, but it looked as if he’d have to get the answers from the man himself. He pressed a kiss to Jules’s forehead. “I’m gonna go talk to, uh, Gideon. Thank him for helping us. And then we’ll leave, okay?”

She nodded, meeting his gaze hesitantly.

One last kiss on her forehead, then he got off the bed. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Gideon waited out there for him, but he wasn’t alone. There were four other people with him, conversing in hushed tones. Three men,one woman. All with a noticeable bulge in their waistbands. They all had that air around them, warning of danger.

Shit.His steps halted.

Gideon glanced up. “Ah.” Those blue eyes. Like high beams, they blinded him. “André, just in time.” He stuck his hands back into his pockets and faced André squarely, one eyebrow raised. “Maybe you can tell us why someone wants to kill you?”

Ennis Canto’ssecret son wasn’t anything like Gideon would have expected.

From what he’d learned from Marco, André didn’t have any contact with his father. It seemed Ennis wanted nothing to do with André, but he paid him a shit load of money every month.

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