Page 51 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

When the worst of it passed, I got the kid back to shore, my arms shaking from the adrenaline. His mother was waiting, her face pale with fear.

“Thank you,” she sobbed, pulling her son into her arms. “Thank you so much.”

I nodded, my chest tight. “He’s okay. Just get him checked out.”

As I walked them up the beach toward the food tents where medical help was set up, I noticed Lila snapping pictures with her phone. She had gone into full reporter mode.

“Dean Jackson,” she called, her voice too bright. “Care to make a statement?”

I didn’t respond. I kept walking, fully intent on getting to the tent to see if I had actually been burned or if it was just the heat. My legs legit felt like they were on fire.

“Stay out of my way,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “You can move or I’m going to go right through you.”

She stared at me, her mouth open in shock, but I didn’t care. I had more important things to deal with. I found Seth near the edge of the crowd. His friends scattered but he was still there, beer in hand and looking like the asshole he was.

“You’re a fuck-up,” I said, my voice cold. “And you always will be.”

Seth’s face fell, but he didn’t argue.

“I’m done with you,” I said, turning away. “You’re fucked and I’m not cleaning up after you. You’re looking at serious charges and you deserve every one of them.”

Seth grabbed my arm. “Dean, come on. It was an accident.”

I shook him off, my jaw clenched. “That was no accident and it could’ve killed someone. Grow up, Seth.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I just walked away, my chest heavy with anger and disappointment. I walked toward the medical tent. They were set up to handle bee stings and minor cuts. I saw a paramedic with the boy and was relieved to see he was getting real care.

I walked into the medical tent, my legs still burning from the heat. The boy was sitting on a cot, his mother hovering over him like a hawk. A paramedic was checking him over, running through the usual questions.

“You’re gonna be fine,” the paramedic said, nodding at the boy. “Just a little shaken up, but you’re tough.”

The boy looked up at me as I approached, his eyes still wide but calmer now. “Thanks, mister,” he said quietly.

I knelt down so I was eye level with him, ignoring the sting in my legs. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Ethan.”

“Well, Ethan, you did good back there. You stayed calm when it mattered. That’s not easy.”

He nodded slowly. I could see some of the fear in his eyes starting to fade. His mother stepped forward, her hands shaking as she reached for mine.

“Thank you,” she said again, her voice breaking. “I—I don’t even know what to say. You saved my boy.”

I shook my head. “Anyone would’ve done the same.”

“No,” she said firmly, tears streaming down her face. “No one else helped him but you did. And I’ll never forget that.”

I stood up awkwardly, not sure how to handle her gratitude. “He’s okay—that’s what matters.”

She nodded vigorously, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “If there’s ever anything you need—anything at all—please, don’t hesitate to ask. You’ve done more for us than I can ever repay.”

I gave her a small nod. Gratitude like that always made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t the hero type. I just did what needed to be done. “Take care of him,” I said finally, motioning toward Ethan. “He’s a brave kid.”

As I turned to leave the tent, the paramedic called out to me. “Hey, you need to get checked out too. Your legs—they don’t look great.”

I glanced down and saw the angry red patches on my skin where the heat had gotten to me. Burns, not too deep but painful all the same. “I’m fine,” I muttered, brushing it off. “Take care of him.”

“You’re not fine,” the paramedic insisted, stepping closer. “If you don’t let me take a look, it could get infected. Sit down.”

“Thanks, but I’m good,” I said.

I thought I wanted medical attention, but I was suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. People were looking at me. Watching. I wanted to go home, get a drink, and forget the night ever happened. I pushed past the paramedic and stepped out of the tent, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. The crowd had thinned, but there were still murmurs and glances thrown my way. I ignored them all, my focus on putting one foot in front of the other. My legs throbbed with every step, but I gritted my teeth and walked toward the parking lot and then the street.

I didn’t know where Portia went. I didn’t feel obligated to say goodbye. We didn’t come together. She’d find her own way home. I walked fast, taking advantage of my long stride. I ignored the burn and pull I felt. Thankfully, the twenty-minute walk wasn’t too bad.

As soon as I walked through the door, I headed upstairs to my room to strip out of my clothes that smelled like smoke. And then it was a stiff drink.