Defying the Odds: Risking It Book 3

by Autumn Reed

  “Think we can convince her to lure the men outside?” Shane asked. “You look beat, and I wouldn’t mind sitting out where it’s quieter.”

  “Probably,” I answered. “I really just want to go home, but now we’ll likely be stuck here for hours.” Wanting to check the time, I pulled my phone from my wristlet and froze when I saw the screen.

  I had three missed calls and one voicemail...all from my mother.

  “What?” Cole asked, obviously noticing the shock on my face. “What’s wrong?”

  My heart was racing, and I couldn’t seem to choke out the words, so I lifted my cell to display the screen for both of the guys. Before I even knew what was happening, Cole took my hand and started leading me toward the offices.

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” I protested. “Maybe she had too much Chardonnay and drunk dialed me.”

  “I don’t know,” Shane replied as he fell into step beside us. “What if something is wrong? You should probably at least listen the voicemail. Or I can, if you don’t want to.”

  My heart sped up for a completely different reason. I’d automatically assumed my mother would only contact me to remind me what a failure of a daughter I was or to call me derogatory names. Why hadn’t I realized there might be an emergency?

  I handed the phone to Shane, suddenly too afraid to listen to the message myself. “Okay, you do it.”

  He waited until we entered the main office before pressing the cell to his ear. His face remained emotionless, but when he was done, he shoved my phone in his pocket and placed his hands on my shoulders.

  “Emma, it’s going to be okay, but we need to leave for Indianapolis right away.”

  I felt my knees buckle, and Cole caught me around the waist. “What...who is it?”

  Shane gently rubbed my shoulders. “Your father had a heart attack and is currently in surgery. He’s going to pull through, but we should go.”

  After the words heart attack and surgery, I couldn’t seem to focus on anything else. Not my dad...it wasn’t possible. “How? We just saw him. He was fine. Great. I don’t understand.”

  “We’ll find out what happened, but we need to get going,” he replied softly.

  I nodded, but I couldn’t seem to make myself move. I kept imagining my dad in the hospital—was he dying? Would I make it there in time?

  “Why don’t you two go home and pack,” Cole said. “I’ll take care of the travel arrangements and make sure Simone gets home safely then meet you at the airport.”

  I felt Cole kiss me and knew he spoke words of comfort, but I couldn’t have repeated them if my life depended on it. Walking to Shane’s car, the drive back to the townhouse, and even packing—it was all a haze. I was on autopilot, going through the motions without processing any of it.

  We were halfway to the airport before I had the lucidity to remember Snow and Ace. “Shane! We forgot about the dogs!”

  He squeezed my knee. “I let them out when you were upstairs, and Xavier is going to dog sit while we’re gone. They’ll be fine.”

  I slumped back in my seat and let my head fall against the head rest. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  “I know you’re worried about your dad, but you don’t need to worry about anything else. All the arrangements are taken care of, and we’ll be able to leave as soon as we make it to the airport.”

  “Thank you. You haven’t heard anything else?” Shane kept my phone and had called my mother at some point, but I didn’t want to know the details of their conversation. I only wanted updates about my dad.

  “Sorry, babe. He’ll probably be in surgery for a couple more hours yet.”

  “Okay.”

  When Cole, Shane, and I boarded a private jet thirty minutes later, I was vaguely aware of the attentive flight attendant, wide aisle, and plush leather seats, but I was too upset to appreciate any of it. The three-hour flight would be the longest of my life, even with my incredible boyfriends on either side of me, supporting me.

  What would I do without them? With the threat of more loss—the most devastating yet—hanging over my head, I refused to even wonder. I’d already lost Nicholas to the election and my mother to her prejudices. The cosmos wouldn’t be cruel enough to take away my father as well, would it?

  Chapter 21

  Nicholas

  The ringing of my cell woke me, and I checked the screen before silencing it and stuffing it under the pillow. What the fuck was Cole thinking calling at three o’clock in the morning? Not that he knew I was in New York instead of California, where it was only midnight. But that wasn’t the point. He was probably only calling to lecture me on my “selfish choices” yet again.

  Didn’t he understand that everything I’d done in the last two and half months had been to help others? None of it had done me one damn bit of good, that was for certain.

  The cell started vibrating and kept vibrating until I couldn’t take any more. “This better be good, Cole.”

  “Emma’s father had a heart attack. He’s in surgery, but I’m not sure he’s going to make it.”

  I sat up so fast, all my blood rushed to my head. “Oh my god. Is she okay?”

  “What do you think?” he asked snidely. “Look, we’re getting on a plane in a few minutes, so I don’t have time to argue with you or try to persuade you. But if you still care about Emma...if you ever did...you’ll get your ass to Indiana.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. The timing couldn’t be worse. I was supposed to appear on Good Morning USA later this morning with Kat, our parents, James, and his parents. It was an entire piece about our powerful families merging and James’s future in politics. Political strategy wasn’t my thing, and even I understood how important it was for me to be there, publicly supporting him.

  “I would, but—”

  “No! I don’t want to hear it. You either love her or you don’t. I’ll text you the hospital address. This is your last chance—don’t fuck it up.”

  He ended the call before I could speak again, and I threw my phone against the wall in irritation, not caring when I heard the telltale sound of breaking glass.

  Emma was probably out of her mind with worry, and I wasn’t there to reassure her. In fact, I was likely the last person in the world she wanted to see right now. And that right there made my chest ache in a way I hadn’t known it could. The woman I loved—love—was in pain, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was thousands of miles away, and more than that, she wasn’t even mine to comfort anymore.

  This is your last chance, Cole had said. But, after everything, did I still even have a chance with her? My Cinderella could be stubborn, and my guess was that she’d been done with me for months. What was the point of trying to win her back now? It already felt too late.

  “Nic?” I heard my sister’s voice, along with a soft knock on my door. “Can I come in?”

  I thought about ignoring her, but there was no ignoring Kat. If Emma was stubborn, Kat was as tenacious and pushy as they came.

  Turning on the bedside lamp, I called, “Come in.”

  She peeked her head in the door. “Is everything okay? I thought I heard a crash.”

  Though the family apartment we were staying in was large by New York City standards, it was still small enough to hear the other inhabitants moving around. I should have known better than to believe Kat would sleep through a solid object hitting a wall we shared.

  “I threw my phone against the wall,” I said with a shrug as I reached for my glasses and put them on. “Sorry if I woke you.”

  She walked to the discarded device, inspecting it. “The screen is shattered. You’ll have to get it replaced tomorrow. Well, later today.”

  “Yeah.”

  Kat made herself comfortable on the end of my bed. “May I ask why you’re throwing things at three o’clock in the morning?”

  “Cole called to tell me Emma’s dad had a heart attack. He’s in surgery.”

  “Oh, no, that’s awful. Have you talked to Emma?�
�

  And that’s why I shouldn’t have let Kat into the room. I’d never told her that Emma broke up with me. She would feel guilty, and that would make me feel guilty, and I just didn’t want to deal with it. Things had been hard enough without bringing my failed relationship into it.

  “No. She’s on her way to Indiana now.”

  Kat shot me a suspicious look that made me want to crawl under the covers. “Nic, what aren’t you telling me? Are you and Emma okay?”

  “Why would you ask that?”

  Deflection? Check.

  “Because you never talk about her, and she hasn’t visited you once in all this time. I know she was busy with school, but what about for the primary? Why wouldn’t she at least come for that?”

  Damn it. I should have known Kat would push me about this sooner or later. “She broke up with me before I left Vegas.”

  Kat grabbed one of the throw pillows from the end of the bed and threw it at me. “Why didn’t you tell me, you idiot?”

  “Because I’ve been trying to protect you,” I practically yelled at her. When she looked stunned, I scrubbed my hands over my face in frustration. “That’s what every minute of these last two and half months has been about. Protecting you.”

  “I never asked you to do that.”

  “No, but you did ask me to keep Emma’s relationship with me, Shane, and Cole under the radar, and I failed miserably. I had to find a way to make it up to you.”

  “Nic,” she sighed, “why didn’t you talk to me about this? I never expected you to give up your life, your girlfriend, for this campaign. I just assumed you were tired of Vegas and wanted to do something else for a few months.”

  “Kat, I love you, but you really thought I’d rather spend all this time around our parents than back in Vegas with Emma, my best friends, my businesses?”

  She laughed softly. “Good points. I guess I’ve been so caught up in planning my wedding and the campaign trail that I didn’t pay enough attention to what was going on with you. And...I admit that you being seen so often with Alyssa really helped. It changed the narrative, took focus off the sex scandal.”

  “Yeah, that was the point.”

  “Is that why Emma broke up with you? Because of Alyssa?”

  “Yes and no.”

  I thought back to my conversation with Emma at Loft25 right before I left town. I’d promised her I wasn’t ashamed of her, and her response? Then prove it. Those three words had been haunting me every day since. How could I prove I wasn’t ashamed of her without damaging the campaign I’d spent months working for? I was stuck between the ultimate rock and a hard place with no way out.

  Once again, my mind wandered to Emma finding out about her dad’s heart attack, and the need to be with her was almost crippling. If she was going to cry, I wanted to be the one to wipe away her tears. I didn’t even care if Cole and Shane were doing the same. We should be doing it together. We should just be together.

  And, suddenly, I knew I’d been wrong all this time. There was a way out. I only had to make a choice—the right one this time.

  Leaping out of bed, I tugged a pair of jeans on over my boxers and reached for my suitcase. Turning to my sister, I prayed she would forgive me, because nothing and no one would change my mind now that I’d finally made it up.

  “Kat, I need to borrow your cell phone, and I need to speak with James.” I drew in a deep breath. “And I need you to understand that I’m sorry, but the woman I love comes first.”

  Instead of lecturing me like I expected, she stood and gave me a hug. “You better win her back, little brother.”

  “I will.” I have to.

  Chapter 22

  Hospital waiting rooms were the worst. The chairs were uncomfortable, the lights were too bright, and the magazines were over a year old. And if all that wasn’t bad enough, my mother was seated across the room with her back to me, as if I didn’t exist. She hadn’t spoken to me since I arrived several hours ago, and I couldn’t decide whether I was more grateful or hurt. The last thing I wanted was to argue with her, but I’d expected a few words of comfort or concern, at the very least. Shouldn’t crisis bring us together?

  Thankfully, the surgeon had updated me on my dad’s condition, so I didn’t have to rely on my mother for that. I’d been relieved to learn that Dad made it through the coronary bypass surgery and was now recovering in the intensive care unit. He hadn’t woken from the anesthesia yet, so my mother, Chris, Shane, Cole, and I were all just waiting...awkwardly.

  I’d tried to read an e-book on my phone but found that I couldn’t concentrate on it. Though my dad was through the worst of it, I was still antsy, worried. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he’d seemed perfectly fine a few weeks ago but was now lying unconscious in a hospital bed after almost dying. Had I missed signs of his impending heart attack? Was there anything I could have done?

  Cole retrieved my phone from my fidgety hands and returned it a few seconds later. I shot him an appreciative smile when I realized he’d opened my Sexy Shuffle app to the “dress up Emma’s avatar” game. It would take absolutely no brain power but might actually succeed in distracting me for a little while.

  I was in the middle of choosing between a pair of leopard print stilettos and knee-high red boots to pair with a black mini dress when the nurse appeared.

  “Miss Harris, you and your family members can visit your father now, one at a time. He’s awake but very drowsy, and his breathing tube is still attached, so he can’t talk. Room three fourteen.”

  “Thank you.”

  I glanced toward my mother’s seat but found it empty. “Where did Mom go?” I asked Chris, who was lounging across two chairs on the other side of Shane.

  “She went downstairs for coffee. Why don’t you visit Dad first, before she gets back?”

  I thought about arguing, but he was right. It would be easier if I snuck in to see Dad before our mother returned. Standing, I looked at Shane and Cole. “You guys should go get breakfast. Take your time. I’m fine.”

  “You sure?” Shane asked. “We don’t mind waiting for you.”

  “I’m sure. I couldn’t eat, anyway.”

  “Okay,” he said, pulling me into his arms for a tight hug.

  As soon as he let me go, Cole took his place and murmured, “Text me if you need anything.”

  “I will.”

  My stomach was in knots as I made my way down a long hall to my dad’s room. Even though it felt like I’d been waiting forever to see him, I started picturing all the tubes and machines and didn’t feel even close to ready.

  After a few deep breaths, I slowly pushed open the door and stifled a gasp at the sight of him. His eyes were closed, and I didn’t remember ever seeing him look so pale. Somehow, the hospital bed and blanket covering him made him appear smaller. Frail, even.

  I’d never seen my big, strong dad look frail a day in his life, and it shook me to the core. Tears I’d been working hard to suppress rolled down my cheeks, and I quickly reached for a tissue to blot them away.

  When I took a seat in the chair next to the bed, his eyes flickered open and focused on me. I forced a smile and said, “Hi, Dad. I’m so happy you’re okay.” He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, so I shook my head. “No, don’t try to speak.”

  I then proceeded to talk about anything and everything while he drifted in and out of sleep. I kept my voice low, not wanting to disturb him, but needing him to feel my presence even if he wasn’t lucid enough to understand me. And the talking kept my crying at bay, because seeing him like this made me truly comprehend how close I’d come to losing him. It was scary as hell.

  When the door cracked open, and I saw my mother on the other side, I squeezed my dad’s hand and quietly left the room.

  Instead of going in behind me, my mother closed the door and blocked my path. “You realize this is your fault, don’t you?” she hissed at me.

  Shocked, and still overly emotional, I backed away fr
om her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Heart attacks are caused by stress, and just think about all the stress he’s been under since you came out as a slut. You’re destroying our family, and your father is just the first victim.”

  I stared at the woman who gave birth to me, and for the first time in my life, I wondered if the last twenty-two years had been a lie. Had she ever truly loved me and wanted the best for me? If so, how could she speak such hateful words? How could she accuse me of something so terrible?

  Even though her recriminations hurt, I knew better than to take responsibility for my dad’s condition. Stress alone didn’t cause his heart attack, and if anyone was causing him stress, my mother was clearly at fault. He’d been openly supportive of me and my relationships, and I wasn’t about to start second-guessing that now.

  I wanted to lash out at my mother the way she’d lashed out at me, but I refused to treat her poorly. She was distraught, and even though she wasn’t showing it, I knew she had to be scared.

  “Cynthia,” I said quietly, needing to distance myself from her by using her first name, “I’m sorry you feel that way. But I’m not at fault here, and I’m sure you’ll agree once you’ve had more time to consider it. You should go see Dad now, but please don’t upset him.”

  With that, I shoved past her and walked away. My heart was racing, and my hands were shaking, but I felt good. I’d done the right thing—I stood up to her without sinking to her level.

  When I returned to the now-empty waiting room, I sank into a chair and tried to think about anything other than my mother’s spiteful remarks. My gaze strayed to the television, and I was relieved to see Good Morning USA was on. Maybe I’d get lucky and they’d be showcasing puppies that needed to be adopted. Puppies would drastically improve my mood.

  Instead, the camera spanned over several very familiar faces, and I froze. Without even realizing I was doing it, I stood and moved forward until I was directly in front of the TV.