A Billionaire's Game (Ellsworth Brothers #2) (8 page)

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting for over
an hour!”

“Hello to you too, gorgeous,” Drake said, walking over to
kiss Jill. She pulled her head off to the side to avoid the contact.

“What the hell, babe?”

“What’s going on with you?” she demanded.

“I was just conducting some business,” he replied, his
right hand pulling the sleeve of his linen dress shirt out further from
underneath his suit coat. “I told you I was doing business when I left your
place.” Drake inched closer to Jill.

Putting a palm to Drake’s chest she held him at bay. “Who
does business at,” she glanced down to check the time on her phone, “11:30 on a
Friday night?” The anger in her voice was unmistakable.

Drake walked confidently to the bar and poured himself a
shot of whiskey and quickly tossed the amber liquid down his throat. “Some guys
work in an office, some guys work in a factory…”

“And some guys meet thugs in abandoned warehouses to what,
deal drugs?” Jill interrupted.

“What! No! I don’t deal drugs. That’s ridiculous.”

The tension in the room was palpable. Jill stood, hands on
hips, muscles tense and a deep frown on her face. When she spoke again her
words were clipped and terse. “Tell me what you do for money. Your trust fund
is gone, isn’t it? Where are you getting the money to pay for this,” throwing
her arms in the air to indicate the suite.

“What’s it to you?” Drake shouted and turned to walk back
to the bar.

“What else is there, Drake? What are you selling? Illegal weapons
or are you involved in human trafficking? What?”

“Jesus, Jill. Is that what you really think of me? Some
low-life pimp?”

“I don’t know, Drake. Since you won’t tell me, I’m left
with my imagination.”

“I play cards,” he said quietly facing the window and
looking out into the night.

“You what?”

Turning he repeated, “I play cards.”

“Cards? Like poker?”

“Yes. Is that so bad?”

“Drake, if it’s so okay,” making finger quotes as she said
the word okay, “why didn’t you just come out and tell me? Why not tell your
family?”

“They wouldn’t understand.”

“Yeah? Well, right now I don’t understand. Tell me more
about these card games.”

“I play cards for money. Okay? Is that what you want to
hear?”

“I just want the truth, Drake,” Jill said softly.

“Well, now you know. Any other questions, or can we move
on from this subject?” Drake refilled his glass and tossed back the second shot
of whiskey.

“Who else plays cards for money? And why were you so upset
earlier? Did you lose? Did someone cheat? What, Drake? What is going on?”

“Yes. I lost. Okay. I’m out of money. I’m broke. That’s
the gods-honest truth. Happy now?”

“You’re broke? Drake, I don’t care about your money. I
never did. What I’m worried about is that your life is a sham. You’re playing
cards to support this over-the-top, grossly extravagant lifestyle. It’s not
right, Drake. What is going to happen to you? I’m worried.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me. Everything has
been handled, okay?”

“I don’t know, Drake. Something isn’t right. What you’re
doing isn’t right. I’m sorry. I’m worried about you. You’re like a completely
different person than the Drake I’ve gotten to know and like.”

“Now you see what everyone else sees: the fuck-up. It’s
not a pretty picture.”

“I don’t believe you for a second. This is not who you
are. A person doesn’t have to be defined by the balance in their checking
account, Drake.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do. I never cared about the fancy clothes you bought
me. Let’s return them all. I can shop at a thrift store just as easily and for
a whole lot less money. I never wanted you to remodel my apartment. Our
friendship, our relationship, our whatever it is that we’re doing isn’t based
on what you can give me monetarily. I like you because you’re kind to Benny and
me. You’re funny and smart. But, tonight, this person, the person you are right
now. I don’t know who this is. It’s time to face up to what is going on. It’s
time for you to grow up, Drake.”

Glancing around the room Jill found her purse and jacket.
She strode quietly to the door of the suite.

As she reached for the door handle she paused and turned.
“Tell me one thing, Drake. What consequences are going to come and slap you in
the ass? I’ve counseled enough people who are broke to know that there are
always consequences.” Then she paused again. “Are you going to be safe? I mean,
people know who you are and where to find you.”

Drake laughed at the question, tossed back another finger
of whiskey and turned to face Jill. Smiling, he replied, “Babe, I don’t use my
real name.”

Disgusted, Jill opened the door and walked out. Slowly the
door closed by itself with a muffled click. Angrily, Drake picked up his glass
and threw it with such force that the crystal shattered on impact.

Jill awoke with a start Saturday morning. She’d tossed and
turned all night long after she’d returned home. Why hadn’t she listened to
Thea? Why hadn’t she paid attention to all those red flags—the expensive
clothes, catered room service meals, the hotel, for god’s sake. The guy lived
in a hotel.

She threw the covers back, climbed out of bed and padded
to the bathroom. The black circles under her eyes were prominent. She looked as
tired as she felt. She splashed cold water on her face and sputtered, looking
back at her reflection. “I have to apologize to Thea,” she said as if speaking
to her conscience. Defeated, she wiped her face dry and went to make some
strong coffee.

Warm mug in hand, Jill tucked one leg under her butt and
sat on her couch. She scrolled to her recent calls and realized that Thea’s
number, which normally sat atop her list of recently called numbers was near
the bottom of the screen. Sighing, she mustered her courage and pressed her
friend’s name.

The phone rang only once before she heard Thea’s hesitant
greeting. “Hello?”

“Hi. Thee. It’s me. It’s Jill.”

“I know,” came the soft reply. “Are you okay?”

With a big sigh and a sarcastic laugh, Jill replied,
“Honestly? No.”

“Jill,” Thea began, but Jill interrupted.

“You were right and I was wrong,” she blurted. “And, I
need to apologize. I’m so sorry, Thea. I should have listened to you and your
advice, but I didn’t. I was stubborn and bitchy, and I’m so sorry.”

“Jill. Stop. It’s okay. I forgive you. And, I’m asking
again, are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“No. I’m absolutely not okay. I have some stuff I need to
talk to you about. Can we get together, maybe today or tomorrow?”

“I would love that. I’ve missed you, girl.”

“Me too.”

“The usual spot?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be there to pick you up in an hour.”

“Thanks. Thea…”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve missed you.”

“I know,” Thea replied and ended the call.

Jill felt a little better after a shower and another cup
of coffee. She walked outside to wait for her friend. Soon she saw the ancient
Honda pull up to the curb. Bending over, Jill looked in the window and smiled
at her friend. She opened the door and climbed in.

“Landen still lets you drive this old thing?”

“Landen doesn’t get to tell me what I drive,” Thea said,
pride in her voice. “Ready to roll?” Thea asked, and Jill nodded. No words were
necessary. Thea looked over her left shoulder to check for traffic and pulled
away from the curb. As they approached their favorite coffee shop, Thea’s phone
began to play Barry White’s “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love Babe.” Jill rolled
her eyes.

“Let me guess, it’s Landen?”

“Yes. He keeps programming my ring tone, and I keep
changing it. It’s sort of this phone war thing we have going on,” Thea said
with a laugh, climbing out of the sedan. “Hey, handsome,” she said saucily.
Jill stood on the sidewalk waiting for her friend to join her. Thea stopped
just as she was stepping up onto the curb, and her face paled and her smile
disappeared. “He’s what?” was all Jill heard. “Okay. Where is he? On my way.
I’ll meet you there. Love you,” and Thea hung up the phone.

“Get in the car, Jills. We have to get to the hospital
right away.”

Hearing the panic in Thea’s voice, Jill offered to drive.
“No, I’m good. Let’s go.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Westin.” said Thea, starting the car.

“Westin?”

“Yes, he’s at Hennepin County Medical Center, and that’s
all anyone knows.”

“Oh, god, Thea. I’m so sorry. I hope he’s okay.”

With that Thea pulled back into traffic and sped quickly
to the hospital.

With a swoosh, the emergency room doors opened automatically,
and immediately Thea saw her husband talking to someone in a white lab coat.
She approached and put her hand on her husband’s back. Instinctively, Landen
wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulder.

“Thanks, doctor. You’ll let me know when we can see him?”

With a nod of assent the doctor walked away. Thea placed
her other hand on Landen’s abdomen and looked into his eyes, usually a clear
blue, but now a deep, stormy color. “We don’t know much other than West is in
bad shape. Someone found him lying in a back alley, unconscious.”

At this information, both Thea and Jill gasped audibly.
“Oh my god! Was he mugged?”

“No one knows anything at this point. The doctors are just
focusing on caring for Westin. He’s got head trauma and possibly a concussion;
broken ribs; a broken leg; and they suspect internal bleeding. They’re taking
him in to do an MRI right now.”

“I’m so sorry, Landen,” Jill said. “Please let me know
what I can do to help. Do you need me to call anyone or get you anything? Are
you hungry?”

“I’m just glad you’re here with Thea, Jill. We’ve missed
you.” Landen leaned over and gave his wife’s best friend a kiss on the cheek.

“Have you spoken to your dad or mom?” Thea asked.

“I talked to Dad. He and Mom are on their way. There’s no
way Mom is waiting at home to hear what is happening to her baby boy,” Landen
said. “Dad tried to talk her into waiting at home so she’d be more comfortable,
but she wouldn’t hear of it.”

“That sounds like Caroline. Take charge and get ‘er done,”
Thea said with obvious admiration in her voice.

“Who’s taking care of Caroline these days? Are you still
doing that?” Jill inquired.

“No,” replied Thea. “I helped them find another health
care worker to replace me. But I go over and visit a couple times a week since
my new patient only requires part-time care.” Thea was a home health care
worker by profession. She worked one-on-one with her clients, allowing them to
remain in their own home.

The group of three turned their heads at the same time as
they heard loud voices. Landen turned and saw his parents. He walked quickly
toward them. He leaned down to quickly kiss his mom on the cheek and hold her
hand.

“Dad,” Landen said, raising his voice.

“Just a minute, son.”

“Dad. Will you please tone it down.”

Turning to look at his eldest son condescendingly, he
spoke again. “I want to know what is happening to my son. Do you mind stepping
away.”

At this, a security guard approached. “Is there a problem
here?”

“William!” Caroline snapped. “Enough. If everyone would be
quiet, this kind person will tell us what we need to know.”

At that, silence fell over the entire group., as matriarch
of the clan, Caroline Ellsworth was used to brokering arguments between the
four men in her life. She commanded a presence in a room despite her physical limitations
brought on by her long-term battle with MS.

Quietly, she asked the woman behind the registration desk
how they could find out information on the condition of their son, Westin
Ellsworth.

Clearing her throat the woman responded directly to Caroline.
“If you would please take a seat in the waiting area, I would happy to find
someone who can update you on your son’s condition.”

“Thank you, miss. I would appreciate any help you can
offer. Come William, we’re going over here.” She turned her power wheelchair on
a dime and sped away swiftly.

Thea and Jill greeted her warmly and reassuringly.
“Caroline,” Thea began, “we don’t know much other than he’s in surgery to stop
internal bleeding. He was hurt badly, but he’s young and strong so that is
something that is in his favor.”

“Right,” Caroline responded quietly, tears filling her
eyes. “It doesn’t matter what age your children are, you know, they are always
your children.”

William and Landen approached the women, but the tension
between the two was palpable. Landen finally broke the awkward silence by
asking, “Were you able to get ahold of Drake?”

“No. I left messages but haven’t heard anything,” William
Ellsworth replied curtly.

The group finally settled into seats, but they were far
from relaxed. Landen sat, elbows braced on his knees, his head bowed. William
tapped his finger idly on the arm of the chair. The women continued to reassure
Caroline and calm her fears.

After what seemed like hours, a person clad in green
scrubs from head to toe and a mask dangling from around her neck approached the
clan.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ellsworth?” she asked.

In unison, Caroline and William said, “That’s us.” Landen
rose from his seated position.

They were temporarily distracted when another person burst
through the ER doors at a full-out run. Spotting Landen, Drake ran to greet his
family.

“I got Dad’s message. What the hell is going on? What’s
wrong with West? Was there a car accident?” Drake paused to catch his breath.

“Hello, Drake,” William said dryly. “This person was about
to give us an update on your brother’s condition.” Caroline reached out her
hand to Drake, and he walked to his mom and held her hand tightly. As he looked
at his brother and sister-in-law, he also noticed that Jill was there. He did a
chin lift indicating he saw her.

“Your son is very lucky to be alive,” the O.R. nurse
began, and there was a collective gasp from the group. “He’s been hurt badly.
His internal injuries are substantial, his kidneys in particular. There are
several broken ribs, one of which punctured his left lung.”

Caroline cried out and put her hand over her mouth, tears
filling her eyes.

“His left leg is broken, as is his right ankle and left
arm. There is severe trauma to his head and face as well. He’s holding his own
in surgery as we attempt to repair the internal damage, but I won’t lie to you.
His condition is very grave. I need to go back in the O.R., but I’ll be back in
about an hour or two with another update. In the meantime I suggest you take it
easy and rest, get some food, that sort of thing.”

In shock they watched as the nurse went back through the
automatic doors that led to the emergency surgical wing.

Drake was the first to speak up, “Holy shit. How the hell
did this happen?”

Landen replied, “We don’t know. A trucker saw him lying on
the ground over by the train depot in Northeast Minneapolis. We have no idea
what he would be doing in such an isolated area. The police think it was an
attack, and it wasn’t random.”

Drake’s face paled. He glanced up and saw Jill’s eyes on
him. He felt like she could see right through him. “Fuck,” he said under his
breath, then turned and briskly walked toward the exit.

“Figures,” commented Landen. “Things get tough, and Drake
runs away.”

“Babe,” Thea said, “We don’t know that. Maybe he’s just
upset.” She put her arms around her husband and held him to her tightly.

“I’m going to go find him and see if I can figure out
what’s going on,” said Jill as she headed toward the exit.

~

The air was cool outside. Jill shivered and wrapped her
sweater around her torso tightly. She saw Drake standing off to the side a few
feet away, his hands in his hair, his eyes focused skyward.

In a soft voice Jill called to him, but he didn’t respond.
“Drake,” she called again, and this time he turned to look at her. There were
tears in his eyes.

“Babe. I’m so sorry, I know Westin is your brother and
you’re shocked, but your family really needs your support right now. Let’s go
back inside.”

Drake shook his head, not understanding her words.

“Drake? What’s going on?” Jill didn’t understand Drake’s
reaction to Westin’s attack.

Drake bent at the waist and emptied the contents of his
stomach on the grass.

“Drake!” Jill said as she rushed toward him. “Are you
okay? What’s wrong?” She put her hand on his back softly. “Baby. It’s going to
be okay. Westin is strong.”

“You don’t get it,” he said, wiping his mouth.

“What?”

“I said, ‘You don’t get it.’” Drake was practically
shouting.

“Don’t get what? Baby?”

“It’s all my fault. These are the consequences.”

“Consequences? What are you talking about?” Jill paused, a
questioning look in her eyes.

“I’m the reason Westin is in that operating room. It was
no accident that he was hurt.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Jill!” Drake looked her directly in the eyes and lowered
his voice. “I told you. When I play cards I don’t use my real name.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“I use Westin’s name.”

Jill was silent. “You use Westin’s name?” she asked, still
not understanding the implications of what Drake had confessed.

Then it came to her. She turned to look up at him, horror
in her eyes. “That is the reason you make everyone call you ‘Mr. Ellsworth,’
isn’t it? You don’t want them to call you ‘Westin’ in front of anyone who knows
that’s not who you really are. Drake! How could you do that? He’s… he’s your brother!”
She was shouting now. Passersby were glancing their way. “What kind of person
are you that you would hide behind your younger brother as protection, so you
don’t have to deal with the fallout from your bad decisions and lack of
judgment?”

Quieting her voice she began again. “I don’t know how
you’re going to do it, but you have to make this right. You have to tell them
the truth.” Pointing toward the building she continued. “They have to know the
reason why the man, the son, and the brother they love is lying in an operating
room fighting for his life.”

With that she turned and walked back through the grass
into the hospital.