Page 2 of BillionHeir
If I could control my facial expressions, I would smile. I would like to get a look at this woman who is bossing my assistant around so successfully. But the effort of following their conversation has left my mind fatigued, and I slip back under.
* * *
The next time I feel the strings of consciousness rousing me, I am determined not to take no for an answer. I try to force my eyes open, and to my surprise, it works! But I am overwhelmed by the brightness of my surroundings and immediately shut my eyes back tightly.
“Did you see that, Tristan?”
“What?”
“Max. His eyes opened for a second.”
“For the fifth time, Liam, no, he did not—”
I push my eyes open again to see my two oldest and best friends sitting to the left of me. One of them looks vindicated as hell. The other looks completely stunned.
“It is about damn time you woke up, you lazy asshole,” Liam says with a huge grin on his face.
“Give the guy a break, will you? He just woke up, for God’s sake,” Tristan says, having my back as always.
I blink a few times to let my eyes adjust, then scan the hospital room for a hint about what might have landed me here. When I shift my weight to sit up, a sharp pain shoots through my arm and shoulder. I blurt out a few choice words as I look down tosee a cast that runs from my left hand all the way up to my shoulder.
“Easy there, buddy,” Tristan says, leaning forward as though he wants to touch me before ultimately holding himself back.
“What happened?” I ask as I mentally take stock of my body.
My two best friends exchange a look before their eyes come back to mine.
“What?” I ask as panic starts to set in.
One of the monitors begins beeping more quickly, obviously in response to my anxiety. I watch as Liam taps his phone a few times before showing me the screen. It is hard for me to figure out what I am seeing at first, but eventually I start to make sense of the picture in front of me. In what would otherwise be a picturesque grassy field, mangled metal and unidentifiable wreckage litter the ground.
“Your helicopter crashed when you were leaving Wyoming. The pilot didn’t make it, but somehow you survived. You slipped into a coma from the swelling on your brain, but they had to transfer you here to Seattle for emergency surgery on your arm. They had to do some serious work to avoid amputation. You also ended up with several fractured ribs, a sprained ankle, and an assortment of cuts and bruises, but overall, you came away from it fairly unscathed,” Tristan explains.
“How long was I out?”
“Two weeks,” Liam answers. “But the doctors are confident that you will make a full recovery.”
They are both quiet as I try to absorb everything I just heard. I struggle to bring up the last memory I have before the accident. I remember going to Wyoming to celebrate the completion of the mining project with the Holloways. And I vaguely remember being at the party. But beyond that, everything is blank.
I don’t know if that is a blessing or a curse.
“What caused the accident?” I ask, unable to meet my two best friend’s eyes.
Am I responsible for the pilot’s death?
“Weather,” Liam says.
“Weather,” I echo quietly.
I know Steve. There is no way he would have gone out in bad weather unless it was a direct order from me. He was one of the most cautious pilots I know. Annoyingly so, sometimes. The weight of the truth hits me like a ton of bricks. He died because of me.
I look up from my internal revelation to see my two best friends exchanging a worried look.
“What?” I snap, before instantly regretting it. They don’t deserve my anger.
The door to my room opens, and an older woman wearing scrubs comes bustling into the room. My head starts to pound, and I close my eyes, wincing in pain.
“Boys, do I need to tell you two to leave? You are stressing my patient out.” She is sassy, with a strong Southern accent. I am pretty sure she is also old enough to be my grandmother. I instantly like her. “Good morning, Mr. Banks. I am Katrina, your nurse,” she says to me with a big smile on her face, her voice noticeably sweeter when she is talking to me. “So glad you finally decided to join us.”
