need to be tucked into bed like a child.” His chin tipped.
“I’m not here to fight with you.”
“Of course not. You’re here for my help.”
And he had the feeling his father wasn’t going to let him forget it. They’d never gotten along well and apparently that hadn’t changed. He started to rise. “If that’s all then, I will turn in.”
“Wait.” His father polished his eighteen-karat gold pocket watch with his thumb. “My assistance comes at a price.”
Shocked at the calculating tone, Tony sank back into his chair. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. Completely.”
He should have suspected and prepared himself. “What do you want?”
“I want you to stay for the month while you wait for the new safety measures to be implemented.”
“Here? That’s all?” He made it sound offhand but already he could feel the claustrophobia wrap around his throat and tighten. The Dali art mocked him with just how slippery time could be, a life that ended in a flash or a moment that extended forever.
“Is it so strange I want to see what kind of man you have matured into?”
Given Enrique had expected Tony to break their cover, he must not have had high expectations for his youngest son. And that pissed him off. “If I don’t agree? You’ll do what? Feed Shannon and her son to the lions?”
“Her son can stay. I would never sacrifice a child’s safety. The mother will have to go.”
He couldn’t be serious. Tony studied his father for some sign Enrique was bluffing…but the old guy didn’t have a “tell.” And his father hadn’t hesitated to trust his own wife’s safety to others. What would stop him from sending Shannon off with a guard and a good-luck wish?
“She would never leave without her child.” Like his mother. Tony restrained a wince.
“That is not my problem. Are you truly that unwilling to spend a month here?”
“What if the restraining order comes through sooner?”
“I would ask you to stay as a thanks for my assistance. I have risked a lot for you in granting her access to the island.”
True enough, or so it would feel to Enrique with his near agoraphobic need to stay isolated from the world.
“And there are no other conditions?”
A salt and pepper eyebrow arched. “Do you want a contract?”
“Do you? If Shannon decides to leave by the weekend, I could simply go, too. What’s the worst you can do? Cut me out of the will?” He hadn’t taken a penny of his father’s money.
“You always were the most amusing of my sons. I have missed that.”
“I’m not laughing.”
His father’s smile faded and he tucked the watch into a pocket, chain jingling to a rest. “Your word is sufficient. You may not want any part of me and my little world here, but you are a Medina. You are my son. Your honor is not in question.”
“Fair enough. If you’re willing to accept my word, then a month it is.” Now that the decision was made, he wondered why his father had chosen that length of time. “What’s your prognosis?”
“My liver is failing,” Enrique said simply without any hint of self-pity. “Because of the living conditions when I was on the run, I caught hepatitis. It has taken a toll over the years.”
Thinking back, Tony tried to remember if his father had been sick when they’d reunited in South America before relocating to the island…but he only recalled his father being coolly determined. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“You were a child. You did not need to be informed of everything.”
He hadn’t been told much of anything in those days, but even if he had, he wasn’t sure he would have heard. His grief for his mother had been deep and dark. That, he remembered well. “How much longer do you have?”
“I am not going to kick off in the next thirty days.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.” His father smiled, creases digging deep. “I have a sense of humor, too.”
What had his father been like before this place?
“I’m not here to fight with you.”
“Of course not. You’re here for my help.”
And he had the feeling his father wasn’t going to let him forget it. They’d never gotten along well and apparently that hadn’t changed. He started to rise. “If that’s all then, I will turn in.”
“Wait.” His father polished his eighteen-karat gold pocket watch with his thumb. “My assistance comes at a price.”
Shocked at the calculating tone, Tony sank back into his chair. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. Completely.”
He should have suspected and prepared himself. “What do you want?”
“I want you to stay for the month while you wait for the new safety measures to be implemented.”
“Here? That’s all?” He made it sound offhand but already he could feel the claustrophobia wrap around his throat and tighten. The Dali art mocked him with just how slippery time could be, a life that ended in a flash or a moment that extended forever.
“Is it so strange I want to see what kind of man you have matured into?”
Given Enrique had expected Tony to break their cover, he must not have had high expectations for his youngest son. And that pissed him off. “If I don’t agree? You’ll do what? Feed Shannon and her son to the lions?”
“Her son can stay. I would never sacrifice a child’s safety. The mother will have to go.”
He couldn’t be serious. Tony studied his father for some sign Enrique was bluffing…but the old guy didn’t have a “tell.” And his father hadn’t hesitated to trust his own wife’s safety to others. What would stop him from sending Shannon off with a guard and a good-luck wish?
“She would never leave without her child.” Like his mother. Tony restrained a wince.
“That is not my problem. Are you truly that unwilling to spend a month here?”
“What if the restraining order comes through sooner?”
“I would ask you to stay as a thanks for my assistance. I have risked a lot for you in granting her access to the island.”
True enough, or so it would feel to Enrique with his near agoraphobic need to stay isolated from the world.
“And there are no other conditions?”
A salt and pepper eyebrow arched. “Do you want a contract?”
“Do you? If Shannon decides to leave by the weekend, I could simply go, too. What’s the worst you can do? Cut me out of the will?” He hadn’t taken a penny of his father’s money.
“You always were the most amusing of my sons. I have missed that.”
“I’m not laughing.”
His father’s smile faded and he tucked the watch into a pocket, chain jingling to a rest. “Your word is sufficient. You may not want any part of me and my little world here, but you are a Medina. You are my son. Your honor is not in question.”
“Fair enough. If you’re willing to accept my word, then a month it is.” Now that the decision was made, he wondered why his father had chosen that length of time. “What’s your prognosis?”
“My liver is failing,” Enrique said simply without any hint of self-pity. “Because of the living conditions when I was on the run, I caught hepatitis. It has taken a toll over the years.”
Thinking back, Tony tried to remember if his father had been sick when they’d reunited in South America before relocating to the island…but he only recalled his father being coolly determined. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“You were a child. You did not need to be informed of everything.”
He hadn’t been told much of anything in those days, but even if he had, he wasn’t sure he would have heard. His grief for his mother had been deep and dark. That, he remembered well. “How much longer do you have?”
“I am not going to kick off in the next thirty days.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.” His father smiled, creases digging deep. “I have a sense of humor, too.”
What had his father been like before this place?
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