Arrogant Playboy(181)

I place my hand over his, careful to avoid his I.V. lines.

“How are you feeling today?” I ask.

“Dane.” There’s a dry scratch in his voice, and my name mostly comes out in a puff of air.

Fuck me. This is hard. I’m calling Beckham and chewing his ass the second I leave here.

And then I realize he said my name. He remembers me. He’s acknowledging me. It’s the first time in months.

“Yes, Uncle Leo. That’s right. I’m Dane.”

“Where ya been?” He sputters. His eyes are wider this time. Brighter than ever. He licks his dry, cracked lips and then curls them into a mischievous smile. I see a little bit of a younger version of him inside there.

I know he’s teasing, and I force myself to smile. It’s much easier to smile right now than to think about the fact that this seventy-year-old beautiful bastard’s days are numbered.

“Where’s your brother?” His brows straighten.

“He was supposed to fly in this afternoon.” I shrug. “I bet he’ll be here tomorrow at the latest. He wants to see you.”

“Tell him to give his cock a rest for a change.” Uncle Leo laughs, which turns into a coughing fit. He knows damn well about Beckham’s reputation as a ladies’ man, after all he learned from the best. “Man thinks he’s a Goddamn sheik.”

“Well, he did change his last name to King...”

“Sorry to interrupt,” an orderly in a white outfit comes in with a paper cup and a glass of water. “It’s time for your meds, Leo.”

It’s crazy to watch a man I once idolized lying feeble and dying in a small ten by ten room at a hospice center.

Fuck pancreatic cancer.

The doctor called us yesterday, told us Uncle Leo doesn’t have more than a week left.

I wait for the orderly to leave before scooting closer. I’ll be here all damn night. I’m not leaving for anyone or anything. The light in his eyes is flickering, and I’d give anything to hear one of his stories one last time before he goes.

“Hey, Daney-boy, can you hit that button for me.” His grip loosens from a button connected to his morphine drip. “Give me some of the good stuff, will ya?”

I press the button for him, knowing it’s only a matter of time before he forgets who I am again.





ELEVEN





BELLAMY



I count thirty-five black cars passing until one slows down and veers off the exit ramp toward the rest stop.

There he is, my knight in shining armor riding up on his big black steed.

Actually, it’s more like a miniature pony, since it’s an economy car. He just thinks it’s fancy since it has remote start and a sunroof.

But I digress.

I peel myself up off the park bench at the last possible moment and angle my hand over my eyes, squinting into the passenger seat of his car to see who my father sent to tag along with him for supervisory reasons.

Oh shoot.

He’s alone.

There’s no way my father would’ve sent him alone. Does he know what happens when you ride in cars with boys? Does he know what happens when you put your twenty-two-year-old daughter alone with a crazy Cortland McGregor?

He hops out and rushes up to me, slipping his arms around me like we didn’t just see each other last night. He grabs the flesh of my backside, roughing me up and pulling me into him as he tries to kiss me. I twist my head, letting him have my cheek.

“What the hell? What’s your problem? Got your panties all twisted just because your car broke down?” Cortland leans in for another kiss.

Hope he likes the way Dane’s cock tastes.

I let him kiss me this time because I’m afraid of what he’ll do if I don’t.

It’s funny how Dane can tie me up, rough me up, and have his way with me, and it doesn’t scare me a bit. But the way Cortland touches me, like he’s entitled to touch me, terrifies me through and through.

I wonder what Dane would do if I texted him right now?

“You smell different,” Cortland says.

That would be the new perfume I got from my soon-to-be lover...

Five fragrances for all kinds of different occasions, though he did say he enjoyed what I already wear.

“There are a lot of women in the office,” I say. “Lots of smells. They all mix. You’re probably smelling that.”

“No, it’s like cologne or something?” He wrinkles his nose and then checks his watch. “Why are you late today?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t you get off at five? You didn’t call your dad until around six, so you were, like, going to be a half-hour late coming home.”

“Are you serious right now, Cortland?”

“Oh, come on. I’m asking for safety reasons.”