The Drake Unwound Complete Collection Book 9 (19 page)

"It's a secret," Kate said. "A gift."

"For Drake?"

She shook her head "No, for me."

"Be mysterious," Ethan said, shaking his head. "I can't wait to see it, whatever it is."

Elaine and Ethan seemed pleased that we were together, that we were going to Africa, and that Kate would start painting again. It was almost enough to wash away the darkness inside of me as I worried about Liam and whether the treatment would work. I pulled Kate a bit closer, and she responded by snuggling into my embrace. If it wasn’t for Liam’s illness, I didn’t think I could be any happier.

The meal was catered and was delicious. Kate and Elaine discussed the food while Ethan and I caught up on how his campaign plans were progressing. I related how I was wrapping things up at the hospital, the Foundation and the Corporation.

Beside me, Kate seemed especially happy to be with her father and Elaine. I watched her drink a bit more than usual, amused that she was getting a nice buzz from the wine.

When we were alone for a few minutes, while Ethan left for his office and Elaine went to the kitchen to fix us tea, I leaned over to Kate.

"You're flushing from the wine. You look very alluring. I wish I could take you home right now instead of going to meet Maureen. Later," I said. "We'll do something special."

After tea and some more discussion of life in general, we said goodbye to Ethan and Elaine and I led a slightly tipsy Kate down to the parking garage. Kate tripped and laughed when I caught her, steadying her against my body.

"You and high heels," I said. "I'll have to make sure you always wear them when we go out so you'll remind me of our first meeting in the bar."

I helped her into the car and buckled her seatbelt while she sat with her eyes closed, smiling. She actually giggled when I adjusted the shoulder belt, and my hand brushed her breast. She opened her eyes and stared into mine.

"You're
drunk
, Ms. Bennet. I’ll have to find a way to take advantage of you tonight."

"Mmm," she said, closing her eyes again. "I like it when you take advantage of me."

"You'll be an even easier lay, with all that wine in you."

"An easy lay?" she said with mock-affront. "May I remind you that you went to a lot of effort to finally succeed in ravishing me?"

I laughed and went around to the driver's side. "I
did
go to a lot of effort. You're worth every ounce."

Once back at the apartment in Chelsea, I helped Kate with her coat and heels, and carried her to the living room. I lowered her to the couch, and went to the kitchen to pour her some water and get her two aspirin.

"Take these," I said, handing them to her. "Drink up. I'm going to fuck you when I get back from seeing Maureen. I want you wide-awake and responsive. No falling asleep or I might have to spank your cute little round ass."

She leaned her head back against the couch. "I didn't like it when you spanked me at the dungeon party," she said. "I thought I might like it, but I didn't."

"That was a punishment spanking,” I said. “It's not supposed to feel good. I'm glad you
don't
like it. We would likely never have clicked if you had enjoyed it."

She nodded, and took the aspirin, then drank down the rest of the water.

"I'll make you a cup of coffee before I go. I want you to sober up a bit." I went to the kitchen and prepared her a cup and then kissed her goodbye. "Wait up for me. I probably won't be too long."

"I will."

I left Kate alone on the couch and took my car to NYP to see Maureen. In my pocket was the picture of my father receiving the medal of honor in Vietnam and a news clipping telling the story. I would give it to Maureen and ask that she show it to Liam and make up some story about how the man in the photo was a relative without directly naming him or his relationship to Liam. I wanted him to know who his forefathers were. If I couldn’t know Liam, I wanted him to know about me and especially about his grandfather. Neither of us were inconsequential men. I thought we were both men of which he could be proud.

As I arrived at NYP, I felt certain that Maureen would grudgingly take the picture and news clipping, show them to Liam and just keep the details sketchy. After all, I was undergoing a medical procedure that was meant to save her son’s life. I felt it was the least she could do.

Sadly, I was wrong.

I met them on the ward and went in to see Liam.

“You can see him now, when he’s sleeping,” Maureen said, “but after this, I don’t want you to come back. I’m only letting you see him now in case he dies before you leave for Africa.”

I nodded without really thinking about it, so glad to have the chance to see him without having to sneak around. The three of us gowned up and went into Liam’s room. He was as pale and fragile as before, his skin so thin it seemed almost translucent, and he had so little body fat that I could see veins in his scalp and the outline of his skull.

I stood by the bed and watched him breathe, filled with a profound sense of loss. Here was my father’s grandson—the grandson he never knew about or met. Here was the son conceived with the woman I though I’d spend the rest of my life with.

I’d blown it so badly.

I took Liam’s hand and mercifully, he didn’t wake up, for Maureen stepped closer when she saw me, and I knew she didn’t approve of me touching him. For God’s sake—did she think I was contagious or something?

We finally left the ward and went down to the café. We each got a coffee and then sat at a table by the window.

“What’s that?” Maureen said when I reached into my pocket and withdrew the envelope.

“It’s a photograph of my father,” I said and handed it to her, “receiving the Medal of Honor for saving the lives of two soldiers in a helicopter crash. I want Liam to have it. I’d like you to show it to him so he knows what kind of man his grandfather was.”

She took the envelope but didn’t even bother to open it, staring at it like it contained a contract for her soul directly from Satan. She glanced up at me and then at Chris, who frowned. She shook her head, shoving the envelope back at me.

“I can’t take this. Drake, I told you. Chris is his father, not you. All you contributed was a single cell. Chris has been there right from the beginning.”

“How can you say that? That single cell is why Liam is alive today,” I said, anger welling up inside of me.

“It’s also because of you that he has cancer in the first place,” Chris said from across the table.

I fisted my hands, biting back an angry retort. “Life’s like that. The good comes with the bad.”

“Drake, why are you doing this? I though you agreed to say out of Liam’s life.”

“Until he’s old enough to understand—“

“Which won’t be until he’s eighteen,” Chris said, interrupting me. “Thirteen years from now.”

“I won’t try to contact him until then but you could always tell him about his family—“

“He’s already met his family,” Maureen said, her voice shaking. “Chris’s family.
My
family. You’re no part of it. You haven’t been and you won’t be. This donation changes nothing. You agreed to be an anonymous donor.”

“Maureen, he’ll figure it out eventually. If he learns his blood type, he’ll figure out that he’s not Chris’s son. I’m A positive, you’re A positive, and Chris is B. That alone will prove that he’s not Chris's.”

“Why would he ever have to learn his blood type?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know but they learn about blood type in science class in school.”

“We’ll deal with it when we have to. Right now, I want you to just let this go. Don’t try to see him again, okay? He’s too sick for anything too disrupting. Surely you can understand that.”

I nodded, angered but not wanting to be insensitive.

“I’ll take this, Drake,” she said and took the envelope. “Maybe I’ll consider giving it to him when he’s eighteen but if you try to push things, I’ll go to court to get a restraining order to stop you, so don’t push me.”

We parted company and when they went to get dinner at the hospital cafeteria, I went to my office, needing to calm down a bit before I went back to Kate. On my way to the office wing, I saw a man pushing a small boy in a wheelchair and thought about Liam. In that moment, I made a decision that I knew I’d probably regret but I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t imagine not seeing Liam again so I went back to the children’s ward and popped back into Liam’s room after suiting up in a gown and mask. He was still asleep, as the oxygen hissed and the monitors hummed behind his bed. The light was low, and he looked so pale. So fragile.

It was my brother all over again, except this time, I’d get to witness it.

He woke briefly and sat up, looking a little bit better.

“Are you a doctor?”

I nodded and took his wrist to feel his pulse. “I’m Doctor Morgan. How are you doing, young man?”

“Okay I guess. Where’s my mom?”

“She and your father are down at the cafeteria for supper. They’ll be back soon.”

He said nothing and looked up at me.

“Are you happy about finding a donor?” I asked, wanting to keep him talking.

He nodded, his face grim. “We were lucky. My mom said that the man was our only hope. I’m going to get radiation to kill all my bone marrow and then they’ll give me new cells. Then I won’t have cancer.”

I nodded and we discussed the procedure for a few moments.

He was very brave, talking so matter of fact about the whole procedure, but children with cancer had to grow up so fast.

He yawned and I checked the clock on the wall. I’d already been in for ten minutes and didn’t want to stay any longer.

“I’m sure glad you’re getting your transplant,” I said and squeezed his hand briefly. “You’ll be feeling better in no time.”

“Me, too,” he said and nodded.

I left the room, my throat choked about not seeing him again. I went into the soiled linens room and removed my scrubs, and was just on my way out when I saw Chris coming down the hall toward me. I thought he and Maureen would be gone for a good half an hour but he must have come back for something.

“What the
fuck
…” Chris said when he saw me. “What were you doing in there?”

“I just wanted to see him one last time. Let it go.”

I went out the door and down the stairs to the rotunda, hoping to escape a confrontation but no luck. Chris followed me, obviously not willing to let it go. He stopped me, grabbing onto my shoulder.

“Do we have to get a restraining order?”

I pulled away. “You’re being unreasonable.”

“Liam has enough to worry about without learning that the father he loves is not his biological father.”

“It’s the truth.”

“The truth is,” Chris said and stepped closer to me, “you’re not the kind of father he should know about until he’s old enough to handle the truth.”

“What the fuck does that mean? I’m a neurosurgeon, a member of the faculty at the Columbia College of Medicine. I’m the head of the Liam Morgan Memorial Foundation. I’m Chairman—“

“We all know what you are,” Chris said, his voice raised. “We also know about your involvement in less savory pursuits. I’m sure your employer would be interested to know it, too.”

“Is that a threat?” I said, my face hot.

He moved even closer to me as if to intimidate me. “If you dare go back and see him again, it’s a promise.”

“Back off,” I said and stepped away.

“No,” he said and stepped closer. “
You
have to realize you won’t ever be part of Liam’s life. If we have to go to a lawyer to extinguish any parental rights, we will. We won’t hesitate to bring up your S&M practices.”

“I’m not into S&M,” I said and clenched my fists.

“There are pictures,” he said. “We won’t hesitate to use them.”

“What?” I frowned in disbelief. They had pictures?

“Yeah, that’s right. We have pictures of your handiwork so stay the fuck away.”

I pulled away, but he must have taken that as aggression and he swung at me, his fist connecting with my cheek.

I lost it. When I recovered, I swung at him, connected with his jaw, but my punch wasn’t enough to knock him down.

Maureen came running up and stepped in between the two of us.

“Grow up, the two of you!” She kept us apart, and we both nursed our wounds and stared each other down. “Leave, Drake, or I’ll call hospital security.”

“I’m leaving,” I said and held up my hands, turning away. With that, the two of them walked off, leaving me to rub my cheek where a nice abrasion was growing.

I went to my car and sat in it for a few moments, trying to get hold of myself.

Then I called up Dave Mills.

“Dave, I need to get drunk. Fast.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’m your man.”

We met at a pub in Chelsea, and downed shot after shot while I told him about my encounter with Chris.

“You should have broken a chair over his head,” Dave said. “Knocked the bastard out.”

“I probably would have caused a brain injury and then Liam would have an even bigger imbecile as a father.”

“Then you should've kicked him in the balls,” Dave suggested.

“If I could find them.”

The evening went on more or less like that, until I was so drunk that I could barely stand up. We took a taxi home and I stumbled up into the apartment after midnight only to find that Kate was fast asleep.

Even in my drunken state, I didn’t want to wake her up and have her see me like that—inebriated, pitiful. Instead, I took two aspirin and drank down a big glass of water and lay down as gingerly as possible on the bed beside her and promptly fell asleep.

Morning came all too soon. Kate woke me up when the sun was up, the light way too bright for me.

“Drake," she said. I turned over onto my back, a hand covering my eyes, and peered at her through my fingers. She leaned on her elbow, looking at me with an expression of concern on her pretty face, her green eyes wide.

"Ms. Bennet, what's going on in that mind of yours so early in the morning?"