“What’s good about it?” he grumbles. “Nurse Ratched still won’t let me out of this damn bed.”
He looks so much better than he did two days ago. There’s actual color in his face, he’s breathing normally, and it’s been a while since I’ve heard that ugly cough.
I point to the oxygen tube. “Did she say you could take that off?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. She’d have already shoved it back up my nose if she hadn’t.” He levels a serious gaze on me. “You went to town with Ridge last night, right? How was it?”
He knew, I’d talked to him before leaving.
“Fine and dandy.” I bite my tongue, not mentioning the hitch with Jess and the men prowling around the truck. “We went to this bar in town. Not the Bobcat, but a nicer one on Main, Libations, I think it was called. He announced our engagement just as planned.”
It still feels weird saying those words.
“Hmm. I didn’t think you’d agree at first, but then, I remembered you’re you. And you’ll do anything you possibly can for an old fool who bit off more than he could chew.” His face falls toward the ground. “I’ve been a shitty father.”
Whoa.
Clearly, someone’s been doing some heavy duty thinking while stuck in bed.
My heart breaks a little as I take a shaky step toward him, studying the deep lines of age and stress on his face.
I sit in the chair beside the bed, taking his hand. “No, you haven’t, Dad. You made serious mistakes, but...it wasn’t malicious. We never had much, and I know you grew up poor. Everything you’ve done was for me and Mom. You tried to give us something better, whatever the rights and wrongs.”
I don’t think I’m convincing, judging by the sharp, sad look he throws back.
My mind also tries treading down another road, but I won’t let it.
I have enough to worry about without drowning in my own regrets. My own blame. My own stupid mistake trying to help the situation by fighting Clay and just making it worse.
Dad doesn’t know about it, and if I have my way, he never will.
“You’re making me more noble than I really am, Gracie. It was jackass pride, plain and simple.” He sighs, rolling his shoulders. “I hitched up with Clay for money. I was greedy, jealous, always hating how I busted my hump on the lines for years and saw the managers swapping out their rides every other year for cars I could only dream about. I wanted to buy your ma nice things, the farm she always wanted, and send you off to school without worrying about any damn loans. But I could’ve done that without Clay. If I hadn’t boxed myself in, if I hadn’t been so bitter, too old or stupid to learn anything new...”
“Dad, no,” I whisper, rubbing his back. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Shaking his head, he solemnly adds, “I took the bait, the first easy money that came along. Stupidly thought I’d found us a golden ticket. Truth is, dirty money is always filthy. How many people did I help that bastard kill with the stuff he was shipping? How many folks ruined their lives or killed each other, fighting over that junk?”
Drugs.
Just like I always guessed.
Jesus.
He’s never admitted it outright before, but now...
Now, I get it, and I know part of what’s been wrong with Dad wasn’t just his health. It was guilt, poison in the soul, constant and suffocating.
Arguing won’t do him any good, though, so I nod.
He isn’t wrong.
Dirty money will always be filthy, even when it sucks good people in.
“Well, hindsight is twenty-twenty.” I fold my hands on my lap.
“I’m glad you have a good head on your shoulders. I didn’t want you to suffer, but Ridge’s plan is our only option now. It might even end all of this. You know it’s a game to call Grendal out of the woodwork. When it’s over and done, then we’ll go wherever we want. Start over.” He pats my hand. “Hollywood folks get engaged and break up all the time, so no one’s even gonna question that. They’ll probably figure a man like Ridge would never settle for someone who wasn’t born with millions.”
Ouch.
My stomach sinks because he’s right.
Fantabulous sex aside, it’s all a game.
A plan to neutralize a monster so we’ll finally be free. He’s on-point about Ridge, too, and if I want to keep my heart intact, I’d better remember it.
Hollywood princes don’t fall for pumpkin farmer peasants.