Page 46 of Prodigal

Gideon had warned him, and he’d chosen not to listen. Now here they were. Jules traumatized. André unable to do anything but sit there with his mouth shut. He knew for a fact that what happened tonight wouldn’t have happened at Gideon’s place. The penthouse was a fortress, packed full of armed men.

And André chose to go it alone.

He rubbed a shaking hand over his jaw as he followed Gideon and Samir out of the elevator.

“Jules.” Gideon kissed her temple and she let out a whimper, tightening her arms around his neck. “I need to go handle some business with your brother.”

“No.”

André’s heart, already bruised and battered in his chest, ached at the fear in that one reply. He’d done that. He’d allowed that to happen and Jules had decided he wasn’t the person she wanted to comfort her. “Jules.” He touched her shoulder gently. “Gideon will be back.” He didn’t look at the man in questionwhen he said it. “I promise.” Not that his promises were worth anything to her after today.

“How about I take you to your bedroom?” Gideon glanced around and then asked Samir, “Where’s her chair?”

“It’s being brought up.”

“I’ll take you to your bedroom,” Gideon told her. “You can rest there, have the chef make you whatever you want to eat, and then when I’m done, I’ll come back to you and we’ll do whatever makes you happy.” He cupped her face, smiling down at her. “How does that sound?”

For the longest time after their mother died, it’d been André and Jules against the world. He’d been the one to raise her, to guide her through life. He had never given thought to having a partner who could share that role with him. Watching Gideon be so sweet and attentive to his sister, his eyes gentle even with splatters of blood on his clothes, André knew Gideon Winters was a different breed altogether.

And André might have already missed out on him. On experiencing him.

When Jules nodded, Gideon grinned and pivoted, arms around her as she clung to him like a spider monkey as they made their way to “her bedroom”—the one she’d stayed in previously. André followed while Samir remained outside. Inside, Gideon laid Jules on the bed and bent over her, whispering something way too softly for André to hear.

“Chair’s here,” Samir called from outside the door.

André went and retrieved Jules’s wheelchair, parking it beside her bed so she’d be able to access it easily should she need to move about. When Gideon stepped away from her, André knelt at the side of the bed, touching Jules’s cheek. She gazed up at him with wet eyes and the apologies all got bungled up in his throat, choking him.

“Jules, I’m so sorry.”

A sob racked her body and she threw her arms up. He went to her, scooping her up in his arms, whispering his apologies as she cried. When her sobs eased, he wiped her face with his thumb. “I need to go with Gideon, but when I come back, we’ll talk. Okay?” He had to figure out a way to help her deal with what she’d experienced tonight. He refused to allow it to fester into something that would ultimately damage her. Jules was too pure for that. Too innocent. “You’ll be okay,” he reassured her. “You’re safe. Nothing will happen to you here.”

She nodded and he kissed her forehead before easing her back onto the pillows. “Close your eyes. Try to rest. I’ll be back before you know it.” Reluctantly, he stood and walked out of the room.

“One of the guys will be stationed outside her door.”

André tensed at Samir’s words. “Why? Aren’t we safe here?”

“You are,” Gideon said from behind him, voice tight. “But Jules might need something while we’re gone.”

André nodded, swallowing thickly. “Right.”

“Let’s go.” Gideon brushed past him.

Everything about tonight hurt. But Gideon’s attitude hurt the most. And even though André understood it, he still wanted to demand Gideon look him in the eyes because he hadn’t done that since they’d first spoken in the SUV on their way over. He wanted to demand Gideon treat him the way he’d treated André before.

Before André allowed his pride and his fears to fuck it all up.

He didn’t say anything though. Instead, he followed Samir and Gideon to the secret elevator that took them down to the med unit. And to the man lying on that bed, head turned away, eyes closed.

His father.

They’d never met in person, and André had accepted that they never would. Yet here they were.

Ennis’s eyes opened when they entered the room. André hung back, trying to hide between Gideon’s and Samir’s bodies.

“André? My son?”

He’d heard Ennis speak on TV, but hearing his name—filled with worry—coming from the lips of the man who’d rejected him? André’s heartbeat sped up, pulse thudding in his ears. Heat flooded his body and he wanted to turn and run. There was something about not being wanted by a parent. Not being accepted—or even acknowledged—by them. That something was pouring out of him now, hot and toxic.

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