Finn (Blue-Collar Billionaires #2) (14 page)

“Finn. Come in.”

I move to the couch facing him and lower myself carefully, stretching my leg out. These weekly meetings are basically bullshit but they make my bank account happy so I show up every week. I got a reprieve for the last few weeks since Max was fresh out of the hospital and still recovering. We all visited him while he was there multiple times and that seemed to make him happy.
 

“They won’t bring me a burger. I should fire them all. Start over.” Max grumbles.
 

I stifle a smile. He looks so disgruntled, like a child who’s been denied his favorite toy. Then I imagine the juicy burger his chef prepared for me the last time I was here. Maybe he’s not entirely unjustified in his desire. I could easily get spoiled eating like that.

“You won’t be firing anyone today, Max. Just relax.” The redhead smiles down at him affectionately which seems to settle him down a little. That’s one thing I’ve noticed about my father, he seems to inspire a great deal of loyalty in most of his staff members. I’m assuming he’s probably paying them pretty well.
 

“I saw Luke.” I don’t mention that I’ve been visiting him every other day.
 

Max immediately perks up. “You did? What did he say?”

“I don’t think you want me to repeat some of what he said.”

He wheels himself to the sideboard and pours himself a drink. He holds up the bottle to me and I shake my head.
 

“Luke thinks you’re hiding something.”

His hand pauses in mid-pour and some of the liquid sloshes over the side of the glass. “What do you mean?”

“That’s why he doesn’t want to see you. He thinks you’re up to something. That there’s a good reason that I should stay away from you. Is he right?”

Max pours a little more in the glass before he turns to face me. “Probably. Does that mean you’re going to stop coming?”

This is the first time he’s acknowledged any wrongdoing. Even though it’s a small concession, it makes me feel better anyway.

“No, I’m not going to stop coming.”

For a moment, his eyes flash with joy and then he turns back to his drink. This seems to be an obsession of his, getting all of his children back together, making contact with all of us. Not that it’s not a fine sentiment but I can’t help but wonder why it matters to him so much. It’s been years and all of our lives have been progressing just fine. Why the sudden need for a family reunion? Why the urgency?
 

“Whatever it is, you might as well just tell us. It’ll come out in the end anyway so why fight it?”

He grunts. “Only young people think that way. We older folk know there’s something to timing. To waiting for the perfect moment.”

“I’m not sure I believe perfect exists anymore.”
 

All I can think of is Rissa’s face this morning. She'd looked so right in my bed, as close to perfect as I think exists in this world. The first time I loved her, I would have done anything, given anything for her. I've had her on a pedestal in my mind for all the wrong reasons. Both of us have used time to twist our memories and only focused on the good things. We'd dreamed of so much together, building a home, filling it with kids someday. But that's all they were. Dreams.
 

None of those dreams took into account our very real flaws and the inevitable pitfalls of just living life. Maybe it was because we were so young or maybe it was just our destiny to walk away from each other before we could find our way back. But I've come to the understanding that just because things weren't perfect between us doesn't mean that they were wrong.
 

Or maybe that's what perfect really means in this world. Seeing the flaws in someone yet loving them anyway.
 

My father is struggling to reconnect with the people in his life after manipulating and lying to them. I don't want to end up like that. I pull out my phone and quickly compose an email to Patrick Stevens.
 

Patrick,

My plans have changed. Put all company acquisitions on hold until further notice.
 

I send the message and then look up to see Max watching me. His eyes narrow. "I see a lot of me in you."

“I'm nothing like you, Max."

His eyes glaze over slightly and I move forward, worried that he’s having another attack.

“Max? Are you okay?”

He nods quickly. “Just short of breath sometimes. This old body is failing me. And I don’t have the time to right all the wrongs I’ve done. I’ve done bad things, Finn. Hurt people. Mainly people who loved me. I’m just trying to make it right.”

“Some things can’t be fixed that easily.”
 

Max watches me with sad eyes. “I know. But we can try.”

*
 
*
 
*
 
*
 
*

After I leave my father, I head over to the hospital. Mom was scheduled to have another procedure this morning but she assured me it was nothing serious. I would have rescheduled my time with Max anyway if Tank hadn’t told me he would be there with her. He already texted me her room number.

Having Rissa at my place in the mornings has altered my schedule slightly. I smile wondering if Mom has figured out that Rissa is practically living with me yet. Usually she’s on top of these things. She’s always noticed everything, especially when it’s something I’m trying to hide.
 

My smile fades as soon as I enter her room and see the look on her face. Something is wrong.
 

“I’ll be back later when we get the latest test results.” Dr. Singh, her oncologist, nods at me before leaving the room.
 

Mom smiles brightly when she sees me. “Finn. I told you, you really don’t have to come every time I'm scheduled for a procedure.”
 

Suddenly she claps a hand over her mouth. The action doesn’t cover her soft cry. She takes another deep breath in and out. Then she squeezes her eyes shut and tears spill over her cheeks and onto her hand.
 

“Mom?” I rush to her side and sit awkwardly on the edge of the bed. She grabs my arm and that sends a cold shaft of fear arrowing straight through my heart. Throughout this entire process, she’s been steady and positive. No matter how much comfort I’ve offered, she’s always seemed as though she doesn’t need it. I knew it was because she just didn’t want me to see her cry. But the way she’s holding on to me now means she’s too distraught to hide it anymore.
 

Eventually her sobs slow and then taper off until she manages to catch her breath. Her fingers unfurl from the sleeves of my shirt and she raises her head. When our eyes meet, she manages a shaky smile. “I’m glad you’re here, Finn.”

“Me too.” There’s really nothing else I can say. I have no idea how to process what’s just happened.
 

Mom pulls the sheet on the bed higher, looking like she wishes she could disappear behind it. For once, the television isn’t playing in the background and the silence swells around us. The mindless shows that usually annoy me make more sense now. Noise and activity of any kind is preferable to this awful silence.
 

“What happened?” I ask after she’s gotten herself under control.
 

She sighs. “It didn’t work. The new treatment. It appears to have had no effect at all.”

I sit as close to her as I possibly can with the guardrail of the bed in the way. “I’m so sorry. So sorry.” There’s really nothing else I can say and that helplessness tears at me. This treatment was supposed to be our miracle. It was supposed to make her better.
 

She pulls me down for a hug. Then she pulls back and pats at the wet spot on my shirt. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be putting this all on you.”

“Mom, this is about
you
. You should cry or whatever you need to do.”

I have to squeeze my own eyes hard to stop the tears. She doesn’t need to see me break down. My mom has always been the strong one, even when she had no one to rely on but herself. Now she needs me to be strong for her.

“I’m going to have a talk with the doctor. They said we have other options. Treatments that are overseas. We’re not giving up.”

By now, she seems to have gotten herself under control. She wipes the back of her eyes with a tissue and forces a tremulous smile. “I know. Maybe that won’t be so bad. I’ve always wanted to travel.”

“Switzerland is nice this time of year.”

Her breath huffs out in a little laugh. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“Can I come in?”

We look up to see Emma standing in the doorway. Tank stands behind her, stone-faced.
 

“Of course, sweetheart. Please.” Mom opens her arms and Emma practically flies across the room to hug her.
 

Tank told me a little about Emma’s background so I know she lost her parents violently. It explains why she’s so attached to our mom. I can’t even imagine a world where I don’t have my mother to nag me, tease me and build me up. I don’t want to either.

“I need to talk to you.”
 

Tank nods and follows me outside. My brother and I are very different, but when it comes to our mother we’ve always been in perfect agreement. We’ll work together to get anything she needs. And he’s not going to take the news any better than I have.

“So it didn’t work.”
 

We’d paid to try out an experimental form of chemotherapy that isn’t usually offered. I paid to fly the foremost oncologist who pioneered the treatment here so that he could oversee her care. At the time, it seemed like our best option.

Tank’s hands flex into fists and I know he feels the same restless rage that torments me. We’re men of action. When there’s a problem, we need to fix it. But this battle isn’t one that we can fight for her.
 

“There has to be something else,” he mutters.

“If there is, we’ll find out.”

He glances behind me at Mom’s open door. A nurse has just gone in to take more blood or her temperature or one of the million things they constantly seem to be doing. It hits me then that all this might be for nothing. The futility hits me hard.
 

This might be a battle that we just can’t win.

*
 
*
 
*
 
*
 
*

The beep beep of the machine next to my mother’s bed slips into my dreams. I wake with the sound echoing in my head. Mom is fast asleep, looking altogether too pale against the stark sheets. I glance at my watch. It’s almost midnight. I can’t believe the nurses didn’t kick me out by now. Visiting hours have long since been over. I need to get home before Rissa gets back from her last shift or she'll be worried.
 

I stand and kiss Mom gently on the forehead, then pick up my cane. When I emerge into the bright light of the hospital corridor, I almost collide with Sandy.
 

“Sorry. I should have been gone hours ago. I guess I fell asleep.”

“It’s perfectly all right. Honestly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” She glances toward Mom’s room. “We’re all very fond of her.”

I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak.
 

When I get home, I go straight to my room and strip. Sleeping in that chair has left my neck tight and my back sore. A hot shower is probably what I need but I’m too tired to trust myself not to fall out in the shower. Rissa still hasn't arrived home and for once, I'm actually glad for the privacy.
 

I shake out several pills, then at the last minute shake out a few more. The pills roll around my palm making little clacking noises and I shake them gently, just to hear the sound. There's a sick sense of excitement just looking at them. I know that they're going to make me feel good.
 

Ashamed at the thought, I close my hand.
 

The past week, I’ve been dealing with the pain unmedicated. I need a break. Just a few hours without the cloud of pain. I need a few moments when things don’t have to make sense. When I can remember a time when my mom was smiling and when I didn’t have to watch her in pain.
 

When loving so much didn’t hurt.
 

Before I can think about it too hard, I toss back the handful of pills. I fill the glass on the counter with water and wash them down.
 

I climb into the bed and fall face forward into the pillows. Rissa will be home soon but by the time we wake up tomorrow morning, I'll be fine.
 

The next thing I know, there’s noise all around me. It feels like waking up in a blender.
 

I struggle to make my groggy limbs respond. Everything feels heavy like I have little anvils attached to my arms and legs.
 

When I finally get on my feet, I stumble into the hallway. Colors swirl around me and the hallways shifts and rolls beneath my feet. Why is everything moving? I just want it to be still, the way it’s supposed to be.
 

I look up and then I see Marissa. Just like I always dreamed standing in a field of flowers.

“You should always be surrounded by roses. If I’d had the money to, I would have bought you some everyday.”

Her eyes smile at me, dancing around her head in circles before settling above her cheeks again. “Finn, what are you talking about? Was I making too much noise? I was trying not to wake you up.”

Her words don’t make sense to me. Nothing makes sense to me anymore. The woman who has loved me all my life is sick and nothing I’ve tried has saved her. The woman I’ve hated is here in front of me and yet still out of reach. She won't tell me she loves me. She won't move in. She won't be mine.
 

“Why are you here? You don’t want me. You never wanted me.”

She moves closer and then suddenly she’s right in front of me. “I wanted you, Finn. I've always wanted you. That's why I'm here.”

Seeing her was just another form of torture. She was just one more person who hadn’t thought I was worth anything. The girl who left me for a man who could give her all the pretty shiny things she wanted.