Page 60 of The Billionaire's Secret Heir

Madi stared at him until he met her eyes. “I cannot believe you would take part in something like this. And then try to use me. Were you going to try and get money from whatever settlement I got?”

“Yes. And I’m so sorry, Madi. I’ve got student loans I’m going to be paying off forever. Beckett is a billionaire. He could afford to pay and not really be hurting. It would have solved a lot of problems for Calista and for me.”

It was unbelievable to listen to him defending this. “Don’t, Bret. Just stop trying to defend it. I won’t ever understand or agree with what you did. Period. So, you have no idea who Becka’s actual father is?”

“No. Calista didn’t know. Beckett generally fit the time frame and had the money. I didn’t understand why he didn’t check the paternity independently, but I guess because of the whole contract thing you mentioned to me. It all makes sense. And I wasn’t the only one using you.”

“You were all using me, but you were also using Becka. As some kind of pawn in all this. It makes me feel sick. She’s a person. A little girl! Not to be used for money or position or anything else. Look, I appreciate you being honest, but you need to go now. I don’t want to see you again.”

Bret stood and actually seemed relieved. “Take care, Madi.”

She clutched Becka tighter, pressing her cheek to the little girl’s head. She had never felt so alone. Not even when Calista died. Maybe because she had felt like she had relationships. She had Bret in her corner, helping. She had Beckett, caring for her. But neither one had really been truthful. It had been a colossal tease, making her feel not so alone. Giving her a taste of what it would be like to be taken care of. And now she was back where she started, but with the knowledge of what she was missing.

When her phone lit up with power again, Madi read all of Beckett’s messages, feeling desperately sad.

Beckett:I’m still here. I know you’re upset, but I really want a chance to explain. When you’re ready.

Beckett:Do you need food? I could bring something to you.

Beckett:Have they said when they’ll let you leave? How is Becka?

Why did he even care? She bit back tears, thinking back to the conversation with Bret and Graham. Beckett knew that Becka wasn’t his. Shouldn’t he stop wondering? Or was this just about the deal with his father? Sander had seemed so nice—Beckett’s whole family did. To think that Sander had tried to force Beckett to have a relationship with his child just felt wrong. It didn’t line up with how she remembered Beckett or even Sander acting with Beckett. But Beckett hadn’t denied it. So maybe he had to keep acting like she was his in order to keep the company?

That didn’t sound like him, though. She knew this. His continued texts made her wonder if she was making too many assumptions and being too harsh. Her emotions were heightened and her body was exhausted. This is why she didn’t want to have the conversation now, but she didn’t know how to talk to Beckett otherwise. She didn’t want to need him or his help, but she did.

Beckett:But I’m still here in the hospital. I know you need a ride home. Just message me.

Beckett:You can’t avoid me forever. I promise we don’t have to have a conversation yet. Let me get you home.

Beckett:Graham helped get me my SUV from home and a new car seat for Madi. I have to be honest—I don’t know how to install this thing.

Beckett:When you’re ready.

“Mommy crying?” Becka climbed out of the window into Madi’s lap. She put her small hands right on Madi’s cheeks, not brushing away her tears, but pressing them into her skin. “Mommy sad?”

Madi laughed, but it sounded like a sob. “Mommy’s okay, sweet girl.”

The kind nurse poked her head in the door. She gave Madi a sad, but understanding look. “The doctor should be here in the next thirty minutes to go over final instructions and send you home. Will you be ready?”

Madi nodded. “My phone is almost charged. Can I keep it until I go?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. You’ve got your hands full.”

“You have no idea.”

Becka finally crashed, willing to lie down in the crib, staring with glazed eyes at some cartoon on the television with more commercials than content. Madi typed out multiple messages before finally settling on the words.

Madi:We are going to be discharged in the next thirty minutes—so they say. Can we meet you somewhere? I appreciate the ride.

It felt wrong, when she wanted to say so many other things. But this was not the time. She needed sleep and to let the adrenaline and worry and all the effects of the accident course through her system. She was like Becka: seemingly fine on the outside, energized even, but that hid the picture of how she felt on the inside and inside, she was a complete wreck.

Waiting for his response seemed to take forever, though from the time stamp, it was only two minutes. Hospitals had a way of passing time through a filter so it was faster or slower than it should have been, never minute for minute or second for second. The time Madi waited for a response felt like the longest time she had ever waited for anything.

Beckett:I’ll come for you.

When the next message came through, giving the exact entrance where he would meet her, Madi couldn’t read it through the blur of her tears.

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