RAGE (The Rage Series Book 2) Read online

  They handed off the medical records to the nurse who attended to him. She flipped through them as soon as she received them. When she reached the fourth page, however, she paused, adjusting her glasses over the bridge of her nose. “Mr. Marscomb,” she said, her voice heavily accented with the Bahamian lilt. “Did you know that the potential father is confirmed HIV positive.”

  The world stopped moving.

  For an instant, he couldn't breathe, and he couldn't move. Across him Charlotte's face had drained of all its color, and Leah's mouth had fallen open in shock.

  HIV positive? Emerson Mathers?

  “Let me see that, please.” His hand slightly unsteady, the man took the records back from the nurse. Sure enough, there was an entire page devoted to tests for viral diseases and halfway down was the result for the screening of HIV antibodies.

  HIV anti screening: pos+

  It was true. The man had HIV.

  If David was his biological son, then…Jesus.

  Charlotte.

  The blonde haired woman seemed to be slipping down in her seat, somewhat lost. Quickly, David gestured to the nurse. “Ma'am, can you take some additional bloodwork?”

  “Sir, I assure you we took a full panel from you. You'll be getting your results in half an hour.”

  “Not me.” David pointed at a swooning Charlotte. “Her. She needs a full panel as well.”

  For a moment, the nurse gazed between the two of them in disbelief before finally speaking slowly. “The patient would have to sign in, but there should be no problem taking the additional bloodwork.”

  Immediately, David was across the room, still holding his own cotton ball to his arm. “Charlotte, listen to me. This doesn't mean anything.”

  “HIV…” Charlotte was shaking her head slowly. “It can't be. I can't…”

  Ignoring Leah's hard look, David took one of Charlotte’s hands in his, his only thought to comfort her when she was obviously in a panic. “Let them take the blood, Charlotte. We'll know for sure. Just let them do a full work up. Thirty minutes, that's all.”

  Dimly, she nodded. A hesitant nurse brought the clipboard to sign her in and within moments, she was having her own blood drawn.

  The next thirty minutes were the longest of his life.

  That scumbag. He'd been infected this entire time and he hadn't even thought to tell his own daughter? He was certain Charlotte had been tested numerous times throughout her life, but she'd cited receiving her father's blood on several occasions and giving in kind. Surely, the man wouldn't be sick enough to have let her do such a thing without telling her?

  And what about him?

  Exactly how long had Emerson been afflicted?

  If the man was his father…well…David had never had proper testing. He'd considered himself healthy as a horse, and he was unable to spend the hundreds of dollars it would have cost to get tested without insurance. He was careful. He'd never done drugs or had a sexual encounter without protection.

  But now it might all be for naught.

  Leah sat between the two of them, looking from one to the other, her expression torn. She knew there was nothing she could say to ease the tension of that torturous thirty minutes. Around them, the beeping of hospital machines and the groaning of the infirmed seemed to mock them.

  Would they ultimately be relegated to the same fate?

  Finally, the nurse reappeared.

  Solemnly, she sat down on a chair between them. First, she turned to David. “Mr. Marscomb, the paternity test you requested was negative. Emerson Mathers is not your biological father.”

  Though David prided himself on hiding his emotions, he could have shouted to the ceiling in triumph. The man had been lying once again. Perhaps he somehow thought that the affair between Miranda and himself had produced David, and he was sorely mistaken. Either way, the man was no blood of his, and for that, he was eternally grateful. “Additionally,” the nurse went on, smirking slightly at his triumphant expression, “all your STD tests have come back negative, including HIV. Your glucose, insulin, and platelet levels are all normal.”

  Thank God.

  Leah reached across the gap between them to squeeze his hand with a warm smile; but, already, David was focused on Charlotte, sitting white knuckled in the chair across from him.

  When the nurse turned to her, she visibly flinched. “Miss Mathers, I'm pleased to tell you that all your tests have come back perfectly normal as well.” The woman visibly sagged in her seat, relief carved onto every feature of her face as her eyes slid shut. “However,” the nurse’s face had adopted a now somewhat confused expression as she continued, “the results of the paternity test you signed for were negative, as well.”

  “What?” Leah's voice was the first to ring through the room, as the woman's mouth dropped open in pure shock. “What paternity test? Charlotte, what the hell did you sign for?”

  “I thought it was just part of the paperwork.” Charlotte’s eyes were wide, as she stared at the nurse in disbelief. “Where does it say I asked for this?”

  “Right here.” The nurse extracted a clipboard from the desk behind her, flipping to the fourth page where Charlotte had indeed signed a request for a paternity test. She must have been in such shock from the news about her father that she'd signed it unwittingly. Whatever the reason, they now found themselves in a stranger situation then they had before.

  “Negative…” Charlotte breathed, looking back at the nurse once more. “That's the same as David. That means that my father isn't…”

  “He isn't your biological father.” The dark-skinned orderly seemed just as surprised as Charlotte was as she looked at the result closely through her horn-rimmed glasses. “None of the genetic markers were found.”

  “Oh my God.” Charlotte seemed barely conscious, as she stared right through the woman before her. “Oh my God.”

  Charlotte wasn't Emerson's real daughter.

  What the hell?

  “Um, guys? I think we should grab the paperwork and go.” As shocked as she seemed, Leah was the first to regain her wits. From the briefcase she constantly carried with her, she withdrew a sheaf of forms. She pulled the nurse quietly aside and requested that both she and her supervisor sign the confidentiality paperwork and then return the documents to their hotel.

  Meanwhile, David had taken a numb Charlotte's hand to help her from her chair. The young woman was shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Not my father?”

  She remained silent all the way back to the hotel. Wary of the looks he was giving the former CEO, Leah graciously offered to take Charlotte back to her room.

  Now, hours later, David lounged on the hammock on his private deck, marveling at all that had happened. Emerson had been full of shit—more than he'd ever imagined. Not only had everything he'd said about being David's father been false, he'd apparently been lying to Charlotte her entire life about her parentage.

  Did the man ever tell the truth?

  There were few times in his life where David found that the hypothetical disdain he hosted for an individual was actually merited. It seemed in Emerson Mathers case, he deserved all he got and more. The look on Charlotte's face when she'd found out he was HIV positive…and then when she wasn't related to him at all?

  Jesus, what a way to find out.

  But the HIV...Christ. If he'd still been plotting against Mathers Incorporated that would have been one hell of a blow to deal the man. David had no idea if he'd been born with it and it was just beginning to rear its ugly head, or if the man had contracted the disease sometime over the course of his miserable life, but man, what a blow.

  He wondered how Charlotte was doing. Once already, Leah had come to check on him. When he'd asked about Charlotte, the dark-haired girl had merely thrown her hands up and walked away. She was a carbon copy of her brother. When David had insisted that it would be more complicated than Marshall could imagine to merely forget Charlotte, the man had only scoffed.

  And now, he w
as faced with exactly that decision.

  Charlotte's potential adoption was none of his business. Hell, he should walk away right now and let her duke it out personally with her father. The man might be right and powerful, but he'd love to see what happened when Charlotte slapped her father with a mountain of fraud charges. That would be something. However, he should really concentrate on how he was going to fight Emerson in court. Revealing the man's medical condition was out of the question as, even though the tabloids would go crazy, the law would disprove the findings since they were unlawful. Additionally, unveiling such a huge secret might endanger the reputation of the company and, surprisingly, that was no longer at the top of David's to do list.

  Not if it would hurt Charlotte.

  Christ, what was he doing?

  She was three doors down and probably at a loss for what to do. She'd been through so much in the past few weeks, and he'd been so wrapped up in his own issues that he'd barely deigned to address hers. He wasn't a monster.

  If they were to part, at least it could be on good terms.

  Sighing, the man rose from his hammock and left his room, making sure the door was securely locked behind him. It took him less than a minute to reach Charlotte’s door, and she answered on the third knock.

  Her eyes were dry and clear. She was dressed in a silky nightgown, her blonde hair falling down over her shoulders in golden waves. Her face was free from even the tiniest bit of makeup. She didn't seem like a woman on the brink of a breakdown.

  She was absolutely gorgeous.

  “Hi.” His voice came out huskier than he would have liked, and he quickly cleared his throat, stepping back to give her additional space.

  “Hi,” she replied, simply. For a moment, they merely stared at each other. Then, Charlotte seemed to catch herself. Moving back from the door, she made way from him. “Sorry, did you want to come in?”

  “Just for a minute.” The temptation was too great to resist. He decided he'd go in, spend a few precious moments with her, then it would be formalities all the way back to New York where they would part ways. He entered her room, closing the door behind himself. The space was decorated with the same airy, breezy colors as his own room—though her view was slightly better.

  “Um...do you want a drink or something?” When she turned, he could see that the nightgown dipped low over the small of her back, revealing a length of perfect, tanned skin.

  David swallowed thickly.

  “A whiskey would be nice.”

  “Oh. I didn't know you liked whiskey.” A small smile touched her lips, as she moved to the minibar to pour him a drink.

  “I don't usually drink,” he responded, “but when I do, it's a nip here and there of Marshall's blue label.”

  “Well, this is Jameson.” She held out the glass to him. “I hope it doesn't ruin your refined palette.” The jest drew a slight curve of lips from him before he sipped his drink. She was having some fruity concoction brought to her by the resort, topped with pineapple and a cherry. They drank in silence for a good ten minutes before either tried to speak.

  “I just wanted—”

  “I have to say—”

  David stopped as their words tangled, unable to resist a low laugh. “You go first.”

  “Alright.” Charlotte nodded, steeling herself. “I wanted to thank you.”

  David arched a brow. As far as he could remember, he hadn't done anything that might require thanking. Quite the contrary, actually. “For what, exactly?”

  “For everything. Starting at the company, doing what you did, exposing my father…Emerson…for what he's really like. I always knew he had issues but, God, if I'd only known how deep they ran.” She shook her head in disbelief, sipping from her drink before looking to him once more. “So, I have to thank you. If none of this had happened, I'd still be in the dark.”

  Well, that was unexpected.

  He'd thought she'd still be pretty angry over his attempt the pull the company out from under her. Then again, ultimately, it hadn't been her he was after.

  “Well, no problem. I'm just glad you know now.”

  It sounded incredibly awkward, but Charlotte didn't seem to notice. Instead, she was staring out at the moon over the open sea. When she next spoke, her words shocked him. “David, I want to do something for you and your mother.”

  His eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “All this time,” Charlotte mused, “All the happiness my father and Mathers Incorporated has stolen from you. You deserve some peace. Compensation, at least.”

  His stomach twisting, David took a long drag of his drink as he remembered the day he had walked into the bathroom and saw the dead, swollen body of his father. As long as he lived, the image would remain with him.

  “Charlotte, no disrespect, but nothing you do can bring back my father.”

  In the silence that followed, Charlotte took a breath. When she turned back to him, her expression was firm. “I know that. But even so, I'm going to do something. Your mother needs professional, around-the-clock care. I can take care of that. You need a bigger apartment. That can be acquired as well. Compensation for all the patents your father contributed to our firm—that money is rightfully yours.”

  “Charlotte, no. Your father would never approve.”

  “He's not my father,” she responded, gently. “I don't know who my real father is, but I know that I have my own money. An irrefutable trust fund that I came into when I was thirty. Thirty million dollars. I haven't touched it. I want you to have it.”

  David staggered slightly, supporting himself against the nearest wall.

  She couldn't be serious.

  There was no way he could accept that kind of money. When he opened his mouth to protest, Charlotte beat him to the punch. “Don't tell me you won’t take it because I won't take no for an answer. Your family deserves this money, David. You deserve it. Take it for your father.”

  Was he really even considering this?

  All his life, he'd thought that his father would never rest easy if David didn't exact some sort of revenge on the company that had wronged him.

  But wasn't this better?

  Compensation for a measure of the work he had done, with money going to his family, whom he had loved more than life itself? His mother could finally get the care she needed, and David would never have to worry about money again. The money was Mathers’ money, of course, but it was also his father's.

  “I'll…think about it,” he finally said, draining the remainder of his whiskey in one gulp.

  “Not that it will change anything, but you do that,” Charlotte quipped in return, her eyes flashing with fire. “The money will be in your account by the time we return to New York and after that point...I assume...we won't be seeing one another much anymore.”

  David's heart suddenly ached.

  He didn't want to give her up.

  After all they had been through together and all they still had to go through, he needed her. Despite what Leah and Marshall proclaimed, he wanted her.

  “I suppose you're right.” The words were the hardest he'd spoken since keeping up his ruse in the office back in New York. “Starting tomorrow, we're acquaintances again, right?”

  “Right. If my father finds out about this…about the patents and your actual parentage…he'll try to bury you deep.”

  “I doubt he could bury me deeper than he did my father.” David's bitter reply made Charlotte wince slightly, but she shook her head.

  “I'm trying to decide how to approach him about my parentage. Why the hell would the man adopt a girl he didn't even want? I don't understand it.”

  Setting her drink down on the table, she flopped onto a nearby sofa, letting her arm dangle as she stared at the ceiling. It was clear from the flush at her bosom that she was slightly inebriated. When she sank into a lying position, her knee length night down slid upward, revealing a decadent length of thigh that tested David's composure.

  “Neither do I,�
� he said in a low voice, setting his own empty glass down on the bar. “No one knows what goes through Emerson Mathers' head.”

  “He's never let me get close to anyone. No one.” Laughing bitterly, the young woman shook her head in disgust. “All this time, he's been watching me, and I should have been watching him.”

  “You didn't know, Charlotte.” David felt as if he were outside his own body, watching himself cross the room to sink onto the sofa beside her and stare down at her bare face, glowing in the low light of the suite. “It wasn't your fault.”

  “That doesn't make me feel any better.” She groaned, covering her face with her hands for a moment before she looked up at the face hovering over hers, her mouth suddenly parting slightly. The next words she spoke made his heart seize in his chest.

  Reaching up, Charlotte cupped his jaw in a hand, her expression soft. “You're so beautiful, David,” she whispered, the fragrant smell of cherries and pineapple accompanying her statement. “So beautiful to have suffered so much.”

  Her words broke him.

  With a tortured sound, David bent his head to mold his mouth to hers. Almost immediately, Charlotte's arms went around his neck, and she moaned as his tongue slid past her lips to plunder her own. She was just as sweet and succulent as he remembered. Her breath was colored by the tropical drink she'd been sipping. David ran his hands through her copious blonde locks, drinking in the feel of her silky strands and sliding over her impossibly soft skin.

  She was absolutely perfect.

  With a groan, he righted them both, pulling her into his lap to have her even closer. Charlotte wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing the crux of her legs flush against his awakening arousal so a jolt of sensation flooded his system.

  “David…” His name was a moan on her lips, as she bit and licked at his mouth. “David, I want you.”

  As if he could deny her.

  His hands roved from her shoulders down to span her waist before he encircled her hips, lifting her with him as he stood. Indulgently, he ground his growing erection against her, as their mouths worked against one another in delicious tandem.