Dirty Little Secrets: A Stepbrother Romance (16 page)

S
ydney’s nose
was still aligned, although from the cut on one side I thought I’d broken it and it had been treated by a doctor at some point. That wasn’t what I was particularly worried about as most of my attention was taken up with the small camcorder in his right hand.

“Holy shit, I mean, I came over hoping to get something out of Alix, but this is even more than I could have hoped,” he practically crowed, backing toward the entryway. I rolled to my knees, but before I could move, Sydney shook his head, his hand in the left pocket of the light jacket he was wearing. “Don’t even think about it, loving brother. You take one step and Alix gets hurt.”

I sagged back, knowing that with the way Alix was positioned in between Sydney and me, if he was armed, there was no way I could get in between. Seeing my temporary acquiescence, Sydney’s grin grew wider. “That’s better. Come now, let’s talk like reasonable adults.”

“What the hell do you want, Sydney?” Alix asked, reaching for her t-shirt. She covered herself up before pulling it on, not wanting this slime of a human to see her naked again.

“Oh, I came over to see if you had my money,” he said, “but when you two were so wrapped up in your little tryst, I just had to enjoy it too. Thankfully I keep this little camera on me all the time, fits so easily in my pocket. Works great for taping cops who pull me over, just getting inspiration for a photo shoot . . . and getting interesting film sometimes too.”

“Fuck you, Hale,” I said, scooting forward enough that Alix was now behind me. I turned to Alix, placing my body further between us, supposedly to help her with her shirt, but just making sure she was behind me. “So what the fuck do you want now?”

“Simple . . . twenty thousand a week,” Sydney said, grinning. “If not, this joins Alix’s previous performance on the web. Hell, I bet I could get Vivid to give me a good half million for this.”

“You’re fucking slime, Sydney,” Alix spat, her voice near breaking. “You’re an abusive, manipulating, scum of a man. I can’t believe I thought I loved you.”

“Thought? Baby, you were so head over heels for me you thought I shit rainbows and pissed gold,” Sydney laughed back. He took his camera and put it in his pocket, while at the same time taking his left hand out of his pocket and crossing his arms across his chest. It was a mistake I hoped to make him pay for. “Stupid bitch didn’t even realize how long I was slaying pussy behind your back.”

“Don’t say a goddamn thing about Alix,” I growled, turning back to Syd. In doing so, I pulled my left leg up underneath me while still sitting back. I hoped I could use it to my advantage, especially as Sydney didn’t have his hands in his pockets any longer. “She’s a better person that you could be in ten lifetimes.”

He laughed, then grew serious. “You can be lovesick all you two want, I don’t fucking care. What I do care about is the money. Now, are you paying, or do I walk out of here and upload this in my car?”

“How about I just shove that camera up your ass then smash your fucking face in?” I asked. I could feel the demon inside me clawing, forcing its way out, the edges of my vision going red. I was going into battle rage, something I hadn’t felt against another person since that last boxing match two years prior. It was honestly a welcome feeling.

Sydney chuckled and turned away, waving with his left hand over his shoulder. “Whatever. See you on the Internet, fuckers. Have a nice life.”

I was up in an instant, surging toward Sydney, only too late realizing he’d been baiting me. His right hand, which I hadn’t seen clearly since he took it out of his pocket, flashed forward, and a sharp pain pierced my stomach even as I slammed into him, shoving him down the hallway. I took another step before realizing I couldn’t breathe, and the pain drove me to my knees, my hands going to just below my sternum.

Sydney watched me, the small knife in his hand stained red with my blood, grinning as he climbed to his feet. “That’s what you get for breaking my nose, asshole,” he said. I struggled to get to my feet as he came toward me again, but stumbled, the red in my vision turning gray as my life’s blood dripped onto the carpet and the oxygen left my body. “Now you get to watch as I take what I deserve out of your precious love as well.”

But Alix wasn’t on the carpet any longer, having jumped to her feet while Sydney was focused on me. When he turned, she had a baseball bat in her hand, swinging it hard enough to leave a divot in the wall. She was angry, wild, and Sydney could see she wouldn’t be the timid girl he’d slapped around so easily just a couple of months prior. He shook his head and left, running out the door while I collapsed face-first onto the tile, the world fading.

T
he next thing
I was aware of was a very, very bright light. At first I thought that perhaps all the New Age shows I’d ever watched on cable were correct, and that you were supposed to go into the light when you died. However, the next thing I knew, I could hear the beeping sound of a heart monitor, and then the hiss and thump of a ventilator.

I squinted and blinked, trying to gather my senses. I was in a hospital, that was for certain, although I couldn’t tell much more. Looking to my side, I saw a nurse checking my vitals on the heart monitor before looking down at me. “You’re intubated, so you can’t speak right now, Mr. Prescott,” she said, professional to the utmost. “You lost a lot of blood, and you’ve been out of surgery a few hours.”

I nodded, feeling the constricting harshness in my throat, and pointed to the pen on the sleeve of her surgical top. Understanding what I wanted, she handed it to me along with a pad of paper.
Family?

“They’re outside, you’re still technically in the recovery room,” she said. “I’ll get the doctor to give you a check out, and see if we can move you to your room. They’ll be able to meet you there.”

Tube out?

“That’s up to the doctor. He had to repair a puncture to your diaphragm, so you’re not going to be breathing well for quite a while. But if he thinks you’re doing well, maybe he can move you to a normal respirator soon enough.”

She turned to go and I reached out, causing her to stop. “Yes, Mr. Prescott?”

Police?

“I don’t know anything about that, Mr. Prescott. I know you were brought in by ambulance, and there were some officers talking to the blonde girl who was with you. That’s all.”

I nodded and laid my head back, already exhausted with the little effort it took to write. Maybe it was an aftereffect of the anesthesia or my punctured diaphragm. In any case, I laid my head back and waited for the doctor, my eyes slipping closed as I rested.

I came to again in a hospital room, Alix sitting in the chair next to my bed, holding my hand. The tube was out, but I was wearing one of those masks that go over your entire mouth and nose. I squeezed her fingers weakly, smiling at her tired face.

“Alix,” I whispered, unheard to her through my mask. I tugged the mask down enough to say the most important words on my mind. “You’re safe.”

She blinked and nodded, her tear-streaked face puffy from crying. “You need to put your mask back on,” she said, helping me reseat the mask. “The doctors told me that was very important.”

I looked around for a pen and paper, miming writing. Alix nodded and reached behind my head, grabbing a small white board and pen. “The doctor said you might find this easier and less messy,” she said, handing it to me. “Go ahead.”

Dad and Mom?

“I told them you were injured, but that they needed to go ahead with the press conference. Tell the press that we were in an accident or something. They don’t know how bad it was. So they delayed it some, but it’s still going to be live on the ten o’clock news. It’s nearly ten now.”

Cops?

“They know you were attacked by Sydney, but not why. There is an APB out on him, but he’s disappeared somewhere. They’re looking for him.”

You’re okay?

“I’m unhurt, yes,” she said, maintaining control of herself as she read my words. “Why’d you attack him, Kade?”

I lost my control . . .

“Well, Kade Prescott, I love you, and I don’t ever want to feel your blood staining my hands again. You understand me?”

What about the blackmail?

“I don’t care about that right now,” she said quietly.

I looked into her eyes, seeing unimaginable strength, and nodded. Taking my pen in hand again, I wiped the board clear and wrote what was important then.
Okay. I love you.

There was a knock at the door, and a doctor came in. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, and had the satisfied demeanor of a man who’d done a good job. I immediately erased what I’d written and looked up at him. “Hi, Mr. Prescott, I’m Doctor Harrington. I was your lead surgeon on your patch job.”

How is it?

“Not as bad as it could have been,” he said after reading the note. “The blade punctured your diaphragm but didn’t get the lungs themselves, so most of the work was in repairing the diaphragm itself and making sure everything stays where it is supposed to be. How’s your stomach feel?”

Numb, can’t really feel anything below my chest.

“Good, we’ve got a nerve block in there right now, but that’s going to be wearing off soon. I’m not going to lie, it’s going to be painful. Want to see?”

I nodded, and the doctor came over to lift my blanket down before undoing my thin cover. The bandage ran for about six inches, from just below my nipple line to about halfway down my stomach. “We had to do what’s called a laparotomy, mostly to open up the chest and stitch the diaphragm shut, then go poking around to make sure that you didn’t have any other major injuries. You nicked a few things in there, but nothing too major. Whatever you were stabbed with, it was small enough to just scrape over your xiphoid process and get the diaphragm itself mostly, without penetrating enough to get to the lungs.”

What’s my recovery time?

“Oh, you’re going to be on the mask for at least a few more days,” Dr. Harrington said. “And you’re going to be in a lot of pain for those few days. The diaphragm is a tough muscle, and we did a good job fixing the hole, but it’s still not going to be pleasant. After that, a few weeks if there are no other complications.”

I suppose this ruins my swimsuit season
.

“You could say that. You’re going to have a very impressive scar there when all is said and done.”

The doctor patted me on the shoulder. “By the way, I heard that you are Derek Prescott’s son. Alix here was very insistent that we not tell him about the true nature of your injuries, but if you want, he’s supposed to be making a statement for the live news. Would you like me to turn it on?”

I nodded and Harrington reached over my head and found the television remote. He hit the switch, and the small TV near my bed flashed on. He switched around until he found the local ABC news and handed me the remote. “You mind if I watch here with you? Your father spearheaded a fundraising drive for the hospital last year, and I’d love to see what he’s got to say live.”

“Of course, Doctor,” Alix said, reaching over and taking my hand. The tagline on the screen read
Local Community Leader to Make Announcement, Expected to Run for Congress.

“Congress, huh? Well, he’s got my vote,” Harrington said. “Your father’s a good man. And you delayed telling him for this?”

“The police, I’m sure, will inform him soon enough, and they’re coming as soon as the event is over,” Alix said. “By the way, thank you for letting me stay.”

“Your insurance more than covers me bending the rules for family visits,” Harrington said. He pointed at the screen, and held up his finger. “Shhh, it’s starting.”

The first person on screen was actually someone I knew, one of the other partners at Dad’s law firm. He made a brief statement welcoming everyone before quickly introducing the current Congressman, who had declared two weeks prior that he was running for the newly vacant Senate seat with the retirement of California’s senior senator. There was a pretty good response to him as he took the podium. “Thank you all. When I decided to run for the Senate, I knew that by state election rules, it was an all or nothing choice. I’m not normally a man willing to take such a risk, but that was because I wanted to make sure the people of the 46th District were in good hands. It took me a bit of time to find the person who could take over, but I knew as soon as I asked the next man, that I had found exactly the right person to take over for me. So I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to the next Congressman from the 46th District, Derek Prescott!”

Dad got a great reaction, and in the background Sammy Hagar’s
Remember the Heroes
played mutedly. Dad took the podium after shaking hands with the Congressman and waved to the group.

Before he could speak however, someone at the front of the crowd raised his hand and started demanding to ask a question. Dad looked down at his notes and shrugged. “Sure, why not? You all know I’m here to run for Congress, that’s the important point. Why not answer some questions for you all?”

The reporter, a youngish guy that I could barely see, took the portable mike that a staffer brought him. “Mister Prescott, is today the best time to declare your candidacy, in light of the events of today?”

“If you’re referring to my son being in a traffic accident, it is unfortunate, but the hospital assures me that Kade is in stable condition. In fact, after this is over, my wife and I are going to the hospital to see him in person. I know it comes off as a bit hard-hearted, but Kade knows that sometimes service requires sacrifice, so I’m trying to put the needs of the people in front of my personal desire to see my son.”

“That wasn’t what I meant, Mister Prescott. I meant, in light of the video released to the Internet an hour ago of your son and your stepdaughter engaging in sexual relations, do you still feel like you’re the right person to be running for Congress?”

The uproar was tremendous, as confusion reigned and Dad sat there, stunned. “What are you talking about?”