“Tell her they’re working on his brain and his liver. He hit his head a lot, and a part of the car pierced his abdomen. The recovery’s going to be a bitch, but they’re going to help the swelling on his brain first and then deal with the rest. He’s going to beokay.”
Dad doesn’t react for a long moment, but then he nods.
“Come back soon,” he tells him, then looks me in the eyes. “I’m going to call your brother. Your mother’s going to be fine as soon as she knows Michael’s okay.”
“Come on,” Eli says quietly and takes my hand.
When he interlaces our fingers together, I realize his are trembling, but we’re walking through crowded hallways—I at least know now’s definitely not the time to ask questions.
When I see the doors to the waiting room we were in before, I breathe a soft sigh of relief.
There we can talk, there we can?—
There are two men and one woman inside.
I recognize only one of the men.
Harrison Crawford.
He’s probably theHarryEli called in the car.
In simple terms he’s a real estate mogul.
The more complicated description is that he’s the husband of my cousins’ PR manager and the father of one of my cousins’ friends.
None of that explains why he’s literally the first person Eli called when shit hit the fan.
Eli
“Okay, Lex.”
I take hold of both his shoulders and turn him so he’s only looking at me. “I’m going to say a lot of stuff and you’re going to let me get through it before interrupting, got it?”
He nods automatically, but I shake my head.
“No, you need to tell me you’reactuallylistening to me. This whole fucking shitshow is intense as all hell, but you have to actually absorb what I’m about to say.”
His eyes clear,good, then he nods.
“I’m listening, angel.”
“Good. Okay, quick recap. Around four hundred years ago, the King of England had a brother, the Duke of York. When they decided they wanted this piece of land for themselves the king gifted it to the duke. Instead of coming here, he sent his seven friends over. One of them was an Ellsworth, the others were Crawford, Wall, Alton, Barclay, Blackwell, and Cockerton. Crawford took control of all the land when they got here and together they decided they wanted to become kings of this new city. They decided they were going to make it into something the world had never known before, and so the Turris was created.
“Years later, another Duke of York came here and demanded a chair at the table of Turris, so there were eight. A lot of shit has happened since, but what matters is that every Chair has an Heir. I am Dad’s?—”
I have to stop to suck in a deep breath, but I see in Lex’s eyes that he’s still with me. I can do this.
“I am Dad’s Heir. But since he’s, you know, unavailable, and there’s no way of knowing what will happen, I am currently the Chair of Information of the Turris, and I need an Heir.”
I let that settle between us, let us both have a moment with it. Then I reach under my shirt and grab the chain with the ring that belongs always to the Chair of Information. The doctor gave it to me along with Dad’s watch and his wedding ring, and the weight of it is more substantial than simple gold should be.
“This is mine for now, this is my responsibility until Dad’s back on his feet. You said I had you,” I remind him quietly.
I hate that I have to, hate every single second since Harry, Shirley, and Baron came into the waiting room, and I really fucking hate that I have to ask this of him, but I have no choice.
“I need you to be my Heir, Lex. It won’t be for long because Dad’s going to befine.” I say it again, and I’ll keep repeating it, because I refuse to accept any other reality.
“But what does that mean?” he asks, and the fact that there’s desperation in his voice now fucking does me in.
