Page 65 of The Fix
“What is it, Father?” Posey asked, her voice unusually uncertain.
He looked between his children, gaze hanging on his daughter for a moment longer. “I’m ill,” he said. “I plan to begin treatment immediately. However, my prognosis is not good.”
Posey felt a strange drop in her stomach and wondered if she was having a medical episode as well. Perhaps her father’s disease was contagious.
“How long, Father?” Anton asked, and Posey saw the way his fingers gripped his trousers on his thighs as though he’d had a sudden surge of that energy their father currently lacked.
“A year, perhaps a little more, perhaps a bit less.”
A little more. A bit less.Posey didn’t like those nonspecific measurements. Posey tried only to deal in exacts.
“I see,” Anton said, his fingers relaxing. “You’ll need more assistance, then, with the business.”
“Business can be discussed another time,” their father said, pushing back from his chair and standing. Posey and Anton followed suit. “For now, I just wanted you to know why Dr. Solano will be here on a regular basis. And hopefully, my condition responds to treatment more positively than they believe.”
“Medical providers misdiagnose diseases eleven percent of the time,” Posey blurted out, her words rushed. “And only twenty percent of cases show prognostic accuracy.”
Anton snickered, but he quickly covered it with a cough when their father shot him a displeased glance. When he looked back at Posey, his expression softened. “Not the worst odds, Posey Pose.”
“No, Father. Not the worst.”
Their father left them standing there with a nod and made his way out of the room. Posey and Anton followed behind, and when they stepped from their father’s office, the echo of his footsteps disappearing down the marble hall, Anton turned on Posey, striking like a snake as he gripped her neck and pushed her against the wall. “Listen, you little freak of nature, if you think for a second that you’re going to be involvedin the business once I’m in charge, you are sorely mistaken. Once I run this operation, the Kiss family business won’t take advice or counsel from mutants.” Then he leaned forward and laughed in her face, his spittle spraying over her cheek. He gave her one final shove against the wall before letting go.
Then Anton turned on his heel and swaggered away, brushing off his shirt as he walked like he’d been soiled somehow for simply being so close to Posey.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Cami could hardly wrap her mind around the fact that there was a child in her home.Herchild. It was so surreal, like she’d blinked, and he’d appeared. One moment she’d been alone with her cat, and the next she had a little boy living with her. As they’d traveled back to Virginia, Cami had vacillated between shock, joy, terror, and giddiness, feeling constantly on the verge of tears or laughter.
But always beside her was Rex, watching her with quiet knowing and giving her strength with looks not of concern, but of confidence. He communicated his belief in her with his steady gaze, and so she took his lead and chose to believe in herself as well.
She wasn’t at all prepared for this, and she was likely going to fumble some things. Many things, perhaps. But she was willing. And she was able. And she’d approach the situation with love and see this for the unexpected gift it was.
She had this deep-rooted conviction that her mother and sister had had a hand in this miracle, and who would she be if she rejected a miracle?
The detective in California had made good on his word and contacted the local police, who’d approved a temporary squad car to watch her home. No arrests had been made in Cyrus’s kidnapping, and even though they were now far away from where the crime had occurred, she had been targeted too—even if the who and the why andthe how were unclear—and it made her breathe easier knowing law enforcement was fully briefed on the case and on watch as they slept.
Cami pulled into the driveway of the stately white Georgian on the tree-lined block.
“This is my grandpa’s house?” Cyrus asked.
“Yes,” she said as she unbuckled herself, then got out and opened the back door for Cyrus. Her heart had started beating more swiftly the moment they’d driven into the neighborhood where her father and his second wife lived. She’d called and given him the very basics of the situation. He’d seemed stunned, as she’d expected, but she’d wanted to give him time to come to terms with this unexpected circumstance before bringing Cyrus to meet him. “But maybe we should let him decide what you should call him.”
Cyrus nodded very seriously. “He might have trouble adjusting.”
She let out a breathy laugh and hugged him to her. She couldn’t help it. He surprised her constantly. He was the bravest, coolest, most unique little human she’d ever met. “Yes, he might. But he’s a good man and he’s going to love you.”Please love him, Dad. Please accept him with open arms like I have.
They were walking hand in hand up the flagstone path toward the house when the door opened. Her father stepped outside, his gaze hanging on Cyrus as they approached. He still looked a bit stunned, but he smiled when they stepped up onto the porch.
“Dad, this is Cyrus. Cyrus, this is my father, Randolph, but his friends call him Rand. He’s your grandfather.”
Cyrus looked up at her dad. “I never had a grandfather before.”
Her father bent down so he was at Cyrus’s level. “No? Well, here’s the deal. I always thought Randolph sounded like one of Santa’s reindeer,” he said, to which Cyrus smiled. “I like Rand better, but”—he glanced up at Cami—“this has all come as quite a surprise. I’ve been thinking about what you might want to call me and thought we should mutually agree.”
Cyrus nodded. “What do you think?”
“Well, I’d completely understand if you wanted to go with Rand, seeing as you just met me. Or, if you’re willing, Grandpa is a classic. But I’ve gotta throw Pops into the ring.”
