Page 5 of My Dirty Father In Law
“Harry, we have to talk,” I say in a stern voice. “We can’t be married, and we can’t keep pretending?—”
Suddenly, bright lights overwhelm us. Literally, the entire cab of the Accord is flooded with light so bright so that I can’t see. Then, I hear a sickening crunch as I’m heaved forwards violently. All goes black.
4
Juliette
When I wake up, everything is blindingly white. The ceiling, the walls, and the bedsheets are all shades of antiseptic white. Even the TV mounted on the ceiling is playing a flurry of electronic snowfall.
“What happened?” I moan while holding a hand to my head. “Ouch, that hurts!”
A huge man materializes at my side, and his expression is grim. I blink, trying to focus, and realize that it’s Mr. Lewis.
“You were in a car accident, Juliette,” he bites out in a low tone. “What do you remember?”
I shake my head.
“Just that Harry and I were talking in the car, and then there was a terrible crunch?—”
“It was a truck slamming into you,” Jordan bites out, his expression savage. “A dumbass who was drinking crossed the median and hit the Accord head on,” he says in a wooden tone. “Harry never had a chance. Neither did the other driver.”
Slowly, my hand comes down from my head as I stare at the billionaire.
“Wait, what?” I whisper, eyes wide and staring. “What are you saying?”
“My son was killed,” Jordan says in a harsh voice, his blue eyes blazing in the white cube of a room. “Harry lost his life today, which means that you are my closest kin now.”
I stare at the grieving man, unable to speak.
“Harry died?” I whisper, hot tears filling my eyes. “No!”
“Yes,” Jordan bites out, a brutal expression on his face. “My beautiful boy. The child I cradled when he was fresh out of the womb. The child I raised for twenty years. Gone, just like that. That fucking dips hit. What was he thinking, drinking and driving? The asshole deserved to die.”
My heart crumples as sobs wrack my frame.
“I’m so sorry!” I cry. “I’m so so so sorry.”
Jordan shakes his dark head, obviously having trouble processing his son’s death.
“This is a fucking nightmare,” he grinds out. “I’m living in a hellhole and I’m going to wake up any second now.” But then the dark man jerks his head sharply. “But it is happening because life is unfair. They took my boy from me,” he says in a raspy whisper. “What the FUCK?!?!”
I know how he feels because while Harry and I weren’t romantically together, the redheaded boy was my best friend. We were going to embark on a lifetime of adventure, whether tethered by marriage or by mere friendship. But the loss to his father is obviously ten times more overwhelming, and I watch with horror as Jordan comes apart before my eyes.
“No,” he rasps again, staring straight ahead as his two hands grip the gleaming bed rail. His knuckles are white, and I can see howf his face is bloodless. He’s living and breathing, and yet dead on the inside now that his son is gone. “NO.”
Fresh tears spill over my cheeks because this is an awful situation to witness. The death of a child is the worst loss that a person can experience, and my heart contracts with pain for what this man must feel. I’m shaken, crying, and filled with despair at once. My small hand goes to rest on one of Jordan’s, trying to project comfort despite the hopeless situation we’re in.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Lewis,” I whisper. “I’ll do anything to help you. We’ll handle this together.”
He doesn’t respond. He merely continues staring straight ahead, his knuckles becoming increasingly white until I swear, the metal bed rail is going to snap. But then Jordan Lewis jerks his head to look at me, those blue eyes blazing.
“You’ll do anything,” he grinds out harshly.
“Yes, anything,” I reiterate, fresh tears creating tracks on my cheeks. “Just let me know how I can help.”
Jordan inhales deeply, still staring straight ahead, but then he begins to speak.
“The Lewises are an established family in the Twin Cities area,” he intones. “Our forebear was Meriwether Lewis, albeit through his sister’s line, as Meriwether himself doesn’t have direct descendants. Still, we consider ourselves carriers of his torch. His flame burns bright within us, and we’ve continued his bloodline for generations unbroken.”
