I took my mom’s maiden name and pretended I wasn’t a Tennyson.
And my dad let me because he had one son he could control and knew that wasn’t me.
Until now.
He looked between me and the nurse and whispered something else, then walked back to me, his swagger so confident I wanted to punch him in the face.
His “only” son was in the ICU fighting for his life, and he was smiling. How the hell was he smiling?
“She won’t talk.” He adjusted his white silk tie. “The entire ICU’s been paid off, and I made a large donation to the hospital this morning. No reporters will be allowed in, nobody knows who you are, remember?”
“I wonder how many people you had to pay off to make that happen,” I shot back.
He glared. “I’m offering you a fresh start.”
“Right.” Like the fresh start you gave me when you sent me away. I could feel a headache coming on. “The only reason I’m doing this is for Mom and Julian.”
He snorted out a laugh. “You realize your brother hates you.”
“And I hate you, so it looks like we’re all in good company.”
He ignored the comment and started walking, and I knew the expectation was to walk with him so I did.
“All her medical bills,” I demanded. “Nobody but the board will know my true identity, and the minute Julian wakes up, he takes over again.”
“If he wakes up.”
“He’ll fucking wake up,” I said through clenched teeth.
My dad hesitated like he needed someone to tell him that Julian would fight, and then he agreed, “He’s strong. He’s a Tennyson.”
Chapter Five
BRIDGE
“I knew you’d say yes.” My bastard of a father just wouldn’t stop talking. I grunted in response and continued to read portfolio after portfolio. It’s not like I didn’t have a business degree, but even then I knew I was rusty enough that I’d need to put in a few sleepless nights to catch up. Next were the social media pages, a laptop that looked like it cost more than a spaceship, and the keys to an apartment I would rather burn than sleep in. It wasn’t my apartment. It was his. I didn’t earn it. And I hated that I would be living his dream even if I was keeping it alive for him. “You need a drink.”
“What I need,” I seethed, “is for you to stop acting like you’re doing me a favor. I’m doing this for Mom and Julian, not for you.”
“She looked healthy.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal or worth his notice.
“She’s dying, you arrogant fuck,” I spat. I wanted to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze. I wanted to watch his head pop off and roll down the street while it got run over by a fleet of taxis before finally landing in a sewer where it rotted apart from his corpse so he roamed the earth searching for his head for the rest of eternity. A bit much?
I wasn’t really a believer in life after death. However, what I did know was that there was a special place in hell for the man sitting next to me sipping brandy like my brother wasn’t in a coma fighting for his life while I was about to take over the only thing he’d ever lived for.
Regardless of how much I hated Julian for wanting Dad’s approval.
I would always hate my dad more for making my mom cry.
“Mama? You sad?”
“Oh, baby, no. Mama just stubbed her toe.” She wiped the tears from her face. I was only four, but I knew that wasn’t right. I frowned down at her toes. She was wearing sneakers.
I stared harder as she sniffed a bit louder and sat on the couch.
I crawled into her lap and wrapped my tiny arms around her neck then kissed each cheek before doing butterfly kisses. “You’re all better now.”
Her glassy eyes focused on me with such intensity, such love, that my belly fluttered a bit as she clung to me tightly and whispered against my chubby cheek. “You always make everything better.”
“I keep you safe, Mama, I always keep you safe.”
For some reason that made her cry harder. But she laughed through the tears, so maybe what I said was a good thing; it was making her happy again.
“Baby, you are my world.”
“I must be a big boy then.”
“The biggest,” she agreed with a smile before pinching my nose. “Alright, let’s go order pizza and forget about being sad.”
I didn’t think stubbing a toe could make you sad.
She plopped me back on the couch and walked out of the room. I could hear her talking on the phone and ordering my favorite.
The news was on TV, I couldn’t read, but I saw my daddy’s face. He looked so big and strong. Maybe that’s why Mama was crying? She missed him? He wasn’t home as much as I wanted him to be. But he was important, Mama said so.