Forbidden Heir (The Heirs 8)

“Fuck, Danny,” he growls as he pulls me against his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to make sense of it all.”

“I know,” I sniffle. “I just can’t stand seeing you grieve for me while I’m still here.”

He presses kisses to the side of my head. “I’m sorry.”

I can hear the sorrow in his voice. I feel it in his body.

Pulling free, I get up as my breaths keep coming faster. I place a hand on my chest as desolation soaks into my bones.

I walk out onto the balcony, then back into the living room. It feels as if I’m being hunted, death nipping at my heels.

“Danny,” Ryker says as he rises to his feet.

I shake my head as I begin to gasp for air, and then a wail rips out of me as I sink down to the floor. I cover my face as gasps burst from me, paralyzing fear and sorrow swallowing me whole.

I feel Ryker’s arms slip under me. He lifts me to his chest and then sits down with me on his lap.

His body becomes a solid wall. The shaking fades, and then I feel his strength as he says, “I’ve got you, Daniele. I’ve got you. You can break, and I’ll pick up all the pieces. Just don’t give up. Okay?”

I nod as I empty myself, every tear filled with the frightening fact that no matter how hard I fight, I might not be able to beat this thing.

Finally, I manage to regain control over my emotions, and a numbness sinks into my heart and soul.

With my head resting against Ryker’s chest, my body shudders every couple of minutes as lost sobs drift over my lips.

Ryker takes hold of my jaw and nudges my face up so I’ll look at him. His eyes are filled with love, and then his lips curve up. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. I love you so much.”

My eyes lock with his, and not finding the despair in them makes me feel better.

“My badass Danny,” he murmurs before pressing a tender kiss to my mouth.

I’ve managed to get my shit together… again.

Waiting for my family to meet me in our room, my leg keeps jumping. I stand up and walk out onto the balcony, my body tense.

How am I going to tell them?

It was so hard breaking the grim news to Ryker. But Dad… Mom… my brothers… Aunt Jamie… Uncle Rhett? How?

Ryker’s arms slip around me, and his chest presses against my back. Solid. Filled with strength. Right now, he’s the only thing keeping me standing.

“If you can’t tell them, just give me the sign, and I’ll take over,” he murmurs.

I nod and whisper, “Thank you.”

His arms tighten around me, and he presses a kiss to the side of my neck. “Just take hold of my hand, or slap me, anything. Okay?”

I nod, and then a knock at the door has my body freezing. I can’t make myself move as Ryker goes to open the door.

“Hey, I got a text from Danny?” Christopher asks.

I close my eyes, hating that I couldn’t give him more time to at least enjoy his honeymoon.

“Yeah, come in,” Ryker says.

“Did something happen?” Christopher asks, but before he can answer, I hear my parents' laughter.

I try to memorize the sound.

Taking a deep breath, I turn around and see that Uncle Rhett and Aunt Jamie are with them. Tristan comes in behind them, and then Ryker shuts the door. Aunt Jamie is Mom’s younger sister. She filled the role of my parent before Dad found us. That’s a whole different story, though.

“Is this where the two of you tell us you’re engaged?” Dad asks as he sits down.

Mom grins at me, and then her smile begins to fade.

Tristan doesn’t even sit down, his eyes narrowing on me. “What’s going on, Danny?”

I take a deep breath and shake my head.

God. Give me strength.

Ryker comes toward me, and wrapping his arm around my waist, he presses a kiss to my temple, then whispers, “I’m here.”

I nod and swallow hard. Lifting my eyes to Christopher’s, I say, “I’m sorry. I tried to give you as much time as I could.”

He shakes his head as he rises to his feet. “What are you talking about?”

Mom begins to shake her head. “No.” She gets up as her breathing speeds up. “No.”

Aunt Jamie’s face pales as she glances between Mom and me. “What, Della?”

Mom barely gets the word out. “Mom.” Referring to my grandmother, who passed away from cancer. Aunt Jamie was still young back then, so I don’t know if she remembers much.

“What’s going on?” Dad asks, darting up.

Mom begins to cry, her face distorting. “Tell me it’s not what I think it is,” she begs.

I try to take a deep breath, my eyes locked on Mom. “I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Dad shouts.

“I have Glioblastoma,” I force the words through gritted teeth.