Fate, life – hell, maybe even God if he really did exist – had fucked us over again.
I wanted to hurt something. I wanted to scream at something. I wanted to rage. And cry. Jesus, I wanted to cry.
But for Amanda’s sake, I wouldn’t. She needed my strength. Not bitter tears and futile anger.
“We’ll put out another call to the donor bank,” Parker said, his voice calm and gentle. And yet, I could hear defeat in it.
A critical stage. They were the words he’d used last night, talking to me about Tanner’s condition. How critical must it now be for that tone to taint his normal confidence?
I ignored the cold fear creeping through me. “Have you heard from my parents?” I asked. Thankfully I sounded calm. I didn’t feel it, not by a long shot. “Have they had their tests yet?”
Parker shook his head. “Their results haven’t come in yet. I’m coordinating with the head of Oncology at your mother’s hospital, but there’s been a delay in the processing.”
I ground my teeth. “Of course there has,” I growled.
Seriously, if I could, I’d kick Fate in the arse right now.
“Tanner’s a—”
“Fighter?” I finished for him. My knuckles creaked as I balled my fists. Was it wrong to be sick of hearing how much a fighter my son was?
“Bren.” Amanda’s warm hand closed over the back of one of mine. “Being angry doesn’t help,” she said, the words kind. “Trust me, I know.”
I stared at her. She did know. She’d ridden this rollercoaster for over a month now. Me, I’d only been on it for a day. If I was ready to splinter under the pressure, how was she even functioning?
As if seeing the confusion, grief and bitter rage war on my face, she leaned towards me in her chair and pressed her hand to my jaw. “You are strongest when you’re not angry, babe,” she said, a small smile playing with her lips. “You’re like the anti-Hulk that way.”
My Adam’s apple slid up and down my throat as I swallowed. Holding her gaze, I let out a slow breath and nodded. “What now?” I asked, turning back to Parker.
Sympathy and sorrow swam in his eyes. “For now, you both go be with your son. Enjoy his life, his smiles. Enjoy him. I’m going to put out another call to the donor bank. You never know, a donor may have registered late last night. People do unexpected things in the wee hours of the morning.”
That was true. I’d bought a one-way ticket to LA in the middle of the night, only thirty-six hours ago.
Amanda and I went to stand, but Parker cleared his throat.
“Before you go . . .” He closed his eyes, and raked a hand through his hair. “Before you go,” he began again, opening his eyes to level us with a steady stare, “I need to tell you, Amanda, that your father is pressuring the hospital to do the transplant using Robert Aames’ bone marrow.”
My blood turned cold. “What the . . . ?”
Amanda froze. “He what?”
Parker sighed, disgusted. “One of his students is the daughter of one of our board members, and she thinks he walks on water. He’s using that leverage to pressure the hospital into saying you’re not fit to be Tanner’s legal guardian. From what I understand, he’s also started legal proceedings to be named as Tanner’s legal guardian instead.”
Amanda burst out laughing. Parker blinked. I gaped at her. She stood beside me, eyes closed, hand on her belly, shaking her head, laughing. A completely loud raucous laugh. And then it became something else. Something . . . angry, brittle.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” She shook her head some more, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t . . .” She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and looked up at me.
A dark hate sliced through my chest at what I saw in her eyes: defeat. Utter defeat. Professor Charles Sinclair, her father, the man who was meant to care for her, protect her from hurt and grief in any way he could, was destroying her. When she was at her most vulnerable, he was ripping her apart.
I wanted to kill him. Plain and simple, I wanted to kill him.
“Can he do that?” I asked Parker. If I didn’t ask a question, if I didn’t focus on the legality of Charles’s callous intent, I have no doubt I would have left the hospital, caught a taxi to the Sinclair’s house and beaten the crap out of him. For a horribly enticing moment I even saw him opening their front door, recognition filling his face a split second before my fist smashed into his jaw . . .
I fixed my eyes on Parker, my pulse wild, waiting for the answer to my question.
“He can.”
At Amanda’s broken whisper, I turned to her. There wasn’t a sign of laughter, not even angry laughter, now. The defeat in her eyes had leached into her face. She was sitting again, her spine stiff, pinching at her thumbnail.
“He can,” she repeated, a little stronger now. “But it’s a lengthy process. He has to prove I’m unfit to be Tanner’s parent.” Her lips moved into a sad smile. “And now you’re here, he’d have to prove you are as well.”
I dragged in a slow breath. The urge to walk out of Parker’s office and find Charles Sinclair overwhelmed me again.
Parker cleared his throat. “As Amanda said, it’s a lengthy process, one that . . .” He cleared his throat again, removed his glasses and rubbed his thumb at the corner of one eye. “. . . one that, if we don’t find a donor match, will outlive Tanner.”
Cold pain lanced my rage. I ground my teeth. “So why is he doing it?”
Parker shook his head, and put his glasses back on. He grimaced. “Charles is a determined man.”
“Determined to let his grandson die because he has issues with me?” I balled my fists. “Or because he will do anything to ingratiate Robert Aames in to Amanda’s life?”
“Bren.” Amanda touched my wrist. “Dad’s . . .” She broke off.
“A condescending, arrogant bastard?” I finished for her. I shouldn’t have gone there, I shouldn’t have let my anger control me.
Amanda frowned. “Yes. You’re right. He is both of those things. But he loves me, I know that, and he thinks . . . He’s doing it from a place he thinks . . .”
She stopped and slumped in her chair, dropping her face into her hands and shaking her head.
I watched her, feeling helpless. I had no clue about the American court system, about US law. I had no clue what Charles’s legal case meant for Tanner. I had no fucking clue what it meant for me and my future with him. If Charles got his way, I had no doubt he’d make sure the “dumb Australian jock” had no contact with his grandson ever again.
What I did have a clue about was what he was doing to Amanda. It was right in front of me. And she was still defending him. He was destroying her, and she was still trying to protect him from my rage. Because she loved him, as any daughter who’d grown up with a father who cherished her, who doted on her, who wanted only the best for her . . . she loved him.
Which didn’t change my desire to break his jaw at all. But it did keep me in Parker’s office.
Drawing in a slow breath, I lowered myself into my seat and looked at Parker. “You said Charles is pressuring the board. What does that mean?”