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“They died together in a car accident the year before he did.”
If not for the threat, I’d halt and talk to her about this. She lost everything in a matter of a year, and I judged her and gave her hell for clinging to the company that was her father’s. I glance down at her. I reach over and squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t know that.”
We arrive at the hospital door and somehow Adrian is on the other side. “Your brother is in your father’s room. Apparently, your father’s doing better now. Still in ICU, still unconscious, but expected to live.”
“How very disappointing for my brother,” I say dryly.
“Be interesting to see what comes next,” Savage replies just as dryly.
“Agreed.” I urge Harper forward, comfortable letting her go ahead of me with Adrian, obviously on his toes.
And as I expect him to, he blocks for her, as I step into the hallway with Savage at my rear.
“Obviously they think the assassin is back,” Harper whispers.
I don’t sugarcoat the danger, which will not do anything to help her stay safe. “I doubt he ever left,” I say, guiding her toward the elevator. “A man sent on a mission to kill doesn’t leave until the target is dead.”
“But there’s a problem for Isaac,” Savage says, as we stop at the elevator and he punches the button. “If someone dies right after Isaac showed up, all eyes will be on Isaac.”
“It won’t matter if it’s another heart attack,” I say. “And maybe that’s the idea. Isaac stands right next to him while it happens. Kill in plain sight.”
Harper’s eyes meet mine. “Are you going to let it happen?”
Having her even asking that question pisses me off. She knows what he did. She knows he kept my mother out of treatment. “Damn straight I am. He’s not mine to save, just like my mother wasn’t his to save. Are you going to tell me I should feel differently?”
She studies me a long, intense moment before she steps to me, pushes to her toes, and kisses me. “You know I do. So stop directing the anger at me.”
I don’t care who is around. I don’t care what the fuck they think. “I thought you could handle me?”
“I can.”
“We’ll see about that. Later. When we’re alone.”
The elevator dings and the doors open to display two men, one of whom is my brother. The other, I don’t know.
“There you go, detective,” Isaac says. “Ask and you shall receive. Just what you were looking for. My two incestuous stepsiblings.”
I consider the merits of beating his face in right here and now, fuck the witnesses, and the badge. But that’s emotions driving me, and I stomp them down and let the savant in me take over. No face beating. Not right now. Instead, my lips quirk. I have another plan for my brother. One I’ll enjoy far more than he will.
Chapter one hundred two
Eric
Isaac and the detective exit the elevator and to my surprise, Harper steps right in front of Isaac. “Do not say that to me again,” Harper snaps, responding to Isaac’s snarky “incestuous stepsiblings” remark. “We never lived together. It’s a title, one you didn’t mind every damn time you tried to get into my pants.”
My lips quirk and I catch her hand, pulling her back to me. “Easy, sweetheart. Emotions are high right now. Remember what you said about that.” I nod at the detective, a man in his mid-forties, wearing a blue suit with a black tie at half-mast. He’s also sporting a three-day stubble that screams television cop. “Detective Rider, I assume,” I acknowledge.
“I am,” he confirms. “And you’re Eric Mitchell. Good to see you by your father’s side.”
I smirk at the repeated jab. “No one expects me to be by my father’s side. I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”
“And why is that?” he asks.
“Because I wasn’t his golden child like Isaac here.”
“Who inherits should your father die?” the detective replies.
“That’s a callous question,” Harper chimes in. “Has he taken a turn for the worse?”
