Once she left, Wyatt stared at his grandmother warily. She was practically a stranger. She looked much older when she wasn’t wearing a fancy gown with her hair and makeup done. Today she just wore black slacks and a high-necked lavender blouse with a big black cashmere cardigan thrown over it like it wasn’t almost summer in Florida. He had no idea what she was about to tell him, but he wasn’t in any shape to hear any more bad news.
Her mouth drooped at the corners like he’d already somehow disappointed her, and she clutched her gnarled fingers together. “I owe you an apology,” she said.
Wyatt blinked at her. “What? Why?”
Her eyes filled with tears and she turned her head away as if to collect herself. When she looked back, she said, “I let my daughter and that man force me out of your life. I know I was never the world’s most affectionate… grandmother… but I loved you boys. You and Landon were the only joys in my life. When he became sick, and they wanted to use your stem cells to treat him, I protested. I was afraid you’d get hurt, that the procedure wouldn’t work, and your father would blame you. You know your father doesn’t like his decisions questioned.” She shook her head. “But I was right, the procedure failed, and he blamed you. He took it out on you. When I said my piece, told him they needed to stop treating you like spare parts, they cut me out of your life, and I let them. I just gave up and I let them have you.”
Wyatt blinked, trying to process this new information. “I—” He didn’t know what to say. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No. Charlemagne showed me those pictures. All of them. He’s been hurting you for years. I suspected you liked boys… even way back then. You were such a sweet and sensitive child and you had a flair for the dramatic. I should have protected you, but I just didn’t know. But I should have. That place he sent you. The things that happen in those camps. I should have fought harder for you. I knew my daughter certainly never would.”
Tears sprang to his eyes and all he could do was let them fall. “Why did you let him have power of attorney over your affairs if you hate him so much? Why let him paint you out to be crazy? Why didn’t you fight him in court? You’re obviously not senile.”
She shrugged bony shoulders. “I just didn’t care. I’m a lonely old woman, Wyatt. I didn’t care about the money.”
“Still, he didn’t earn any of it.” His father just took and took, doing nothing to earn the money himself. He was a parasite, feeding off others, using them to his own advantage every time.
She chuckled. “You sound just like Charlemagne. Her father will help me take back what’s mine. That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to let you know that you aren’t without means.”
“Means?” he asked.
“Money. You still have your trust fund. That was always yours. Your grandfather set it up when you and Landon were little, just before he died. He made it so your father could never touch it. He didn’t trust him either. We’re not the Rockefellers, and my financial manager, Jerome, will need to approve all withdrawals from the account until your twenty-fifth birthday per your grandfather’s wishes, but it’s enough to keep you off the streets.”
Wyatt gave a stilted nod, at a loss. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I should have stepped in years ago. I should have made an effort to be in your life.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. You’re here now.”
She gave a watery smile. “I know I don’t deserve it, but perhaps you might consider giving me another chance at being your grandmother.”
Wyatt swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah, sure.”
The moment Charlie texted that Wyatt was awake and talking, Linc had cut his meeting with Jackson short. They’d worked out all the big-picture stuff; the details could wait. Linc needed to see Wyatt, needed to touch him and hear his voice. He wouldn’t believe he was truly okay until he was back in Linc’s arms.
When he pushed open the door to Wyatt’s room, somebody had inclined his bed so he was almost sitting up, but his eyes were closed. Linc tried to enter quietly, but Wyatt’s eyes popped open, anyway. One look at Linc and Wyatt burst into tears. Linc’s heart plummeted into his stomach. He rushed to his side. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you in pain?”
Wyatt just shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I lied to you. I knew I was going to end up cutting again. But I didn’t mean to cut so deep. I wasn’t trying to… kill myself. Not really. I swear. Not—I just wanted to cut a little. I didn’t mean to scare you. I told Charlie I’d go to counseling. I promised and I will.”
Linc tried to follow Wyatt’s train of thought, gripping his face in his hands and wiping at his cheeks as he talked. “Hey, shh, stop. Stop. I-I know. I had no right to demand you stop cutting. I saw you spiraling, but I didn’t know what to do. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” He kissed him gently. “But, Jesus, kid. You scared the fuck out of me.” Linc choked on his next words. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I’d lost you and I just kept thinking I never told you I loved you. And I do. I love you so much. I thought I was going to sit there on the ground and watch you bleed out in my arms and you’d never know.”
Wyatt looked at him funny. “But I knew. Deep down. When it mattered. When I think of everything you do for me… it makes sense. You take care of me. You make me food every day. You make sure I drink enough water. You don’t let me drink energy drinks because they make me too jittery to put on makeup and you make sure I go to sleep at a decent hour. You tell me every day that you love me, even if you don’t say it out loud.”
Linc wanted to wrap Wyatt in his arms and hold him forever. Instead, he gently gathered Wyatt against him, careful not to jostle his bandaged arm. Wyatt tucked his face against Linc’s neck. He just breathed in Wyatt’s scent, took in the feel of his warm body against him. He was alive. He was going to be fine. He had told himself this a thousand times over the last five days, but this was the first time he believed it. Wyatt was talking, crying even, his words making sense.
“God, I must smell like a swamp,” Wyatt mumbled against Linc’s shoulder. “My breath is probably lethal.”
“I don’t care. I just want you, stinky body, lethal breath and all.”
Wyatt pulled back. “I love you.”
“I sure fucking hope so because I’m not letting you go. Ever.”
“Promise?”
Linc pulled back enough to sit on the edge of Wyatt’s bed, taking his uninjured hand. “Yes, I promise.”
Wyatt grinned. “Did you really beat the shit out of my dad?”
