Page 79 of Turn Up The Heat

Shane knew his father would double-check every detail with the medical staff regardless, but he wished there was more to tell. At least that way, they’d be talking about Grady and not him. Not that it probably mattered.

“He’s a tough old man,” his father said, and for a minute Shane wondered if it was meant to be reassuring rather than just a statement of fact.

But his father was a statement-of-fact kind of guy, the cold bastard, and Shane felt the resentment well up within him.

“How would you know? You’ve seen him, what? Four times in twenty years? The last time this happened, you were all set to just let him rehab with strangers and watch the business he loved fall to pieces,” he bit out, each word laced with accusation.

His father was unruffled. “You’re upset.”

Christ, the man was so damned manipulative. Anything he didn’t want to discuss got conveniently swept under the rug without a second thought. Well, screw that. Shane had plenty to say.

“And you’re not upset enough,” he hissed, floodgates he’d locked bursting open as he took an angry step closer. “That’s your father up there, and you could give a rat’s ass. Just like last time.”

His father’s gray eyes flared, his mouth pulling into a thin slash. “Don’t think for a second that I don’t remember where I came from and who raised me. As a matter of fact, you might do well to remember that on your end, son. You and I have unfinished business, don’t we?”

Shit.Shit.

“My business with you is done,” Shane said flatly, knowing his father would never let it go.

His father sneered. “Your business with me never really got started, did it? You’re into me for a lot of money, Shane.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the law school loans you’re two months behind on paying. You see, I had a nice, long conversation with the senior loan officer when she called the firm looking for you the other day. It seems you hadtwowork numbers listed on your account, and she was covering all the bases to try and get you to pay up.”

“I talked to a loan officer last week,” Shane ground out, his heart pounding in his chest. “My debt is to them, not you. Plus, I’m paying it.”

His father lifted a brow. “Not fast enough, according to them. But you don’t have to worry. I paid your loan off four days ago. You owemethat money now, and I want it the right way.”

Panic clutched at Shane’s gut, and he heard a soft gasp behind him, but it sounded very far away. “You paid off my loan?”

His father’s smile held no joy. “I didn’t want to have to do it like this, but you gave me little choice. You went through three years of law school at Princeton. A clerkship with one of the most prestigious judges on the East Coast. You passed the goddamn bar, and for what? To piss it all away.”

“I tried,” Shane argued, although his voice didn’t want to cooperate. “I put in time at the firm.”

“And those two years were just enough time for everyone to expect great things from you before you disappeared.” His father paced around him slowly, his unforgiving stare forcing its way under his skin. “I’m done watching you fool around out here in God’s country, son. Play time’s over. You need to get your ass back to Philadelphia to start putting your credentials to work the way you’re meant to.”

Shane cranked his hands into fists so hard that he knew they should hurt, but he didn’t feel a thing other than the sudden, blinding rage that kicked his mouth into gear.

“It must piss you off something fierce that with all your money and power, you can’t buy me.”

His father narrowed his eyes at Shane, but whether it was in defense or anger, he couldn’t tell. But Shane’s floodgates had crashed open, and there was no stopping everything that came rushing out. “The irony is priceless, really. Your only son was born and bred to take over your precious law firm, only he’d rather be a shop jockey like the father you left in the dust, working on cars instead of court cases.”

“You need to come back to the city, son,” his father said without moving. “And do what’s right.”

All that was left of Shane’s restraint snapped. “Iamdoing what’s right. I’m taking care of Grady and his business. If it takes me the rest of my goddamn life, I’ll pay back your fucking money, but I’ll do it as a mechanic, not an attorney, because that’s who I am. And speaking of who I am, don’t call me ‘son.’ I’m not coming back to the city—not today, not next week, notever—so don’t go holding your breath for that one.”

The silence between them was cold and thick, stretching on until Shane’s father broke it.

“Do you feel better? Now that you got that out of your system?”

No,Shane wanted to scream, but instead he stood silent, anchored to his spot on the ugly floor tiles. His pride wouldn’t let him drop his stare from his father’s, although the emotions banked in the man’s gray eyes made Shane want to look away.

His father’s expression was as blank as his stare. “I don’t either. Go get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, son.”

* * *

Bellamy lostcount of how many times she’d been emotionally sucker punched in the last twenty-four hours. Jackson, having sensed something wrong when Shane and Bellamy failed to appear outside the ER to go home, had come inside just in time to hear the entire exchange between Shane and his father. The ride back up the mountain had been full of stiff, uncomfortable silence, clotting Bellamy’s already muddled thoughts as they dropped Jackson off at the garage, then pulled up to the cabin and wordlessly got out of the truck.

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