Page 84 of Devoured By You
He let the comment hang in the air, possibly to test my interest. I took the bait. “Why?”
“She lost her fiancé in the same bomb that took my sister, and her brother ended up paralyzed from the waist down.”
“Jesus.”
“Right? Y’know, you should talk to Zak. That’s Belle’s brother. He’s a solid guy. Runs our assistive technology division. He might have some suggestions to make your transition back to work easier. Plus, he’s a great listener. A good sounding board for when depression hits.” He reached into his pocket and removed his wallet, plucking out a business card. “That’s him. Give him a call.”
I turned the card over in my hand. “I might just do that.”
“You could do worse. My other piece of advice is to find yourself a woman like Belle, someone who won’t blow smoke up your ass, who’ll push you to put in the work needed to recover, and you’ll make it through this rough patch far quicker than you ever thought possible.”
Butterflies took flight in my stomach. “I’ve already found her.”
* * *
Upton stayed for around thirty minutes before excusing himself to get to his next appointment. I contemplated all that he’d said for a while after, running his experience, and Zak’s, alongside my own. They’d had it worse, particularly Zak. He’d lost the use of his legs forever, and Upton had lost his only sister. I still had my family, and Jill, and while my business had taken a crippling blow, it wasn’t on life support just yet. As soon as I got my strength back, I’d throw myself into fixing every single issue and putting Kingcaid Cruises back where it belonged.
At the top of the fucking tree.
Sticking my iPad under my arm, I grabbed my crutches and made my way to the patio. I settled into a comfortable chair on the lanai and surfed the net. A dog and cat scrapping in a YouTube video caught my attention. I laughed as the cat romped its way to victory, then plunked on its ass and began licking its paws while the dog slinked off to a corner to sulk. I opened a news app next. As I did, the top story changed, a yellow Breaking News ticker running on a loop across the bottom.
Murder and Mayhem on Kingcaid Cruises. Is the CEO at fault?
My stomach dropped to the floor. I scanned the article, reading as fast as my eyes could send the words to my brain. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. They knew everything. The issue with the badge scanners before Serenity had set sail, the broken door I’d discovered when John had escorted me on a tour of the ship, plus a few other problems that had occurred in the weeks and months leading up to the maiden voyage. The journalist questioned my leadership, my decision-making capability, and my innocence or otherwise with what had happened that resulted in two people losing their lives. The only thing they didn’t seem to know about was the part the technician had played in the shooter evading security and boarding the ship.
I reached for my phone to call Dad. My pocket was empty. Goddamn, it must be inside. I hauled myself to my feet, hobbling back into my study. By the time I got to my phone, I’d already had several missed calls from Dad, as well as both my brothers, Aspen, and my cousin Asher, who always seemed abreast of everything. I phoned Dad back first.
“I’ve seen it.”
“Don’t panic. I’ve got the lawyers on damage control.”
“It’s a shit show, Dad. If there’s even a whiff of culpability here, it’ll ruin us.”
“Like I said, don’t panic. We’re a long way from that. Projects this size have complications. You know this.”
“Yeah, but not ones where people die.” I sagged onto the couch and let my crutches fall to the floor. “At least it hasn’t come out about the technician yet, although it’s only a matter of time.”
“Not necessarily. I’m all over it.”
“Yeah, but that’s the point, isn’t it, Dad? I should be all over it. This is my business.” The line went quiet. I checked to make sure we hadn’t been cut off. Nope. Still connected. “Dad?”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Take the world on your shoulders. You’re not superhuman, Blaize. A genius, yes, but not superhuman. Give yourself a break.”
Funny that. Because Dad never got a break.
“Let me handle this.”
“You’re handling enough. I’ve got this, son.”
And I thought Jill had emasculated me with the barbecued steaks. Turned out Dad’s knife was far sharper.
“If you think that’s best.”
“I’ll keep you in the loop. I promise.”