Two days later, the doctors discontinued the medication that kept Brack in a coma. My father showed up the morning after surgery and made me go home, shower, and change clothes. Brack's parents were staying in shifts. His mom promised she wouldn't leave his side until I returned. I hadn't really spoken to them. We stayed relatively quiet in Brack's room. I whispered encouragement and told him I was there. They gave us privacy, too. That's when I told him I loved him. Again and again, I whispered the words.

My father and Senator Jacobs were cordial. Brack's mother treated my dad like a family friend. Apparently she'd been friends with my mom. I tried not to think about the ramifications of our two families tied together through me and Brack. It was too much to take right now.

Brack still had the ventilator. The doctor reviewed best and worst case scenarios with us. I refused to listen to brain damage, paralysis, learning to walk and talk again, and so on. My focus was full recovery. I wouldn't accept anything less.

Two hours after the medication stopped flowing into his veins, Brack opened his eyes. The doctors said it could be days. It didn't matter what they said. I knew how strong Brack was.

"You have a ventilator in, son, but you're okay," his father said as Brack's eyes traveled around the room. They landed on me and stayed there. I moved closer and his father backed away. Brack's mother had the other side of the bed and she squeezed Brack's hand. It didn't matter, our eyes stayed glued. His fingers moved and I put my hand on his. He turned it over and grasped mine in a surprisingly strong grip. I smiled through tears. His eyes remained open for a few more minutes before they closed.

A nurse witnessed everything and she left to call the doctor. Things changed quickly after that. Brack had control of his motor skills. They removed the ventilator a few hours later. He slept off and on for the next twenty-four hours. I knew his throat hurt and it would be almost impossible for him to speak. His raspy try when he said, "Olly," kept me by his side.

On day five, I fell asleep with my head on the bed next to his arm. His fingers combing through my hair woke me up. I gave him a sleepy smile and received one in return. He placed his hand up to his head feeling the bandages.

"They shaved all your poor hair," I told him. The look of horror on his face had me laughing. "I've seen it when they've changed the bandages and now I know shaggy hair does not do you justice."

"You told me never to cut it," he managed to say.

I couldn't help myself and blushed. I'd told him that because I liked grabbing it when his head was between my legs. He knew what I was thinking, too, because the smirk that I'd missed so much appeared.

"You can let it grow back," I whispered.

His expression turned serious. "Ty?"

"I did everything you said. I don't think my blow to his throat killed him, but the nine bullets did."

Brack's expression turned sad and he closed his eyes. "Sorry," he whispered without looking at me.

I leaned in and took his cheeks between my palms like he always did to me. "Don't be. The son of a bitch deserved it and I would do it again."

"I should have killed him."

"Well, you'll need to live with it. I saved you and not the other way around. I can handle it if you can."

He smiled slightly without opening his eyes. I leaned in and kissed his lips. "I need to go home, shower, and make myself more presentable," I whispered against his lips. "You sleep," I put a small growl in my voice so he knew it was an order. I received a full grin this time.

I left and drove directly to my father's house. Sander and Ray had dropped my car at the hospital. My father canceled the security contract and I hadn't seen them since. Driving through the gates of my family home, I thought about everything that had happened. My father needed to fill in some blanks.

I keyed in the pen code to the outside gate and then the front door. My father backed off on his security when he canceled mine. I found my dad leaving the gym with a towel around his neck from his workout.

"We need to talk."

"Do you mind if your old man showers first?"

"I mind."

He sighed knowing this was THE talk.

We entered the den and my father took his favorite reclining chair. I sat in the less comfortable Victorian loveseat. "Start at the beginning. Why the hell did you hire Senator Jacobs' son?"

"He's the best. He went to military school, became a Marine, and then a cop. You needed the best."

I vaguely remembered my father complaining one time about Senator Jacobs' stupidity for not pulling strings and getting his only child a plush military assignment during his enlistment. This wasn't what I was after, though. "So why the secrecy?"

"It wasn't exactly a secret," he hedged.

I exploded. All my pent up worry and fear came through. "To hell it wasn't! Neither you nor Brack ever mentioned it. Do you think I'm stupid? I know exactly why you kept it from me. What kind of deal did you make with him?" The guilty look that appeared on my father's face infuriated me. "You fixed us up." Now I was angrier. "Your poor unmarried, tennis champion daughter wasn't playing by your rules and you fucking put us together."

"Olivia, that's enough."

I stood up. "No, it isn't. This is my life. I've worked hard to get where I am. I'm sorry if you don't approve. I will never be a public servant like you. It's not in me. I like my freedom and the travel. I like the competition, and yes, the wild parties and clubs when I'm not competing. I made sure none of those ever came back on you. I pretended to be the sweet daughter of a senator making sure even my friends were always discreet and that includes my lovers."

My father's lips compressed. "You love a little too freely. Those men don't care about you."

"What?"

My father sat back farther in his chair. Now I received his calm, I'm-in-charge, Senate floor expression. "You've jumped from bed to bed for years, Olivia. I give you credit for keeping it quiet when the media follows you around. I, and many other people, knew about it. If you cared about any of those men, it wouldn't have bothered me. You didn't. You used them in some half-ass attempt to emulate your mother."

My father was nuts. "Use them? What, because I didn't find the perfect man to marry? I never thought any of them would be perfect enough for you. They all came from wealthy families and they still weren't up to par. I slept with those men because it felt good." I was so angry my head spun.

"It didn't feel good. You're not a cheap hooker. You punished me by sleeping with them. At least admit that to yourself." My father stayed seated as he dropped that bomb.

He was out of his mind. "Why the hell would I punish you by sleeping with a bunch of men?"

"Your mother."

I fell back onto the loveseat all the fight taken out of me. "What does my mother have to do with this?"

"You know, Olivia. I think you've buried it all these years. I should have spoken to you about it a long time ago. I just couldn't."

A forgotten memory surfaced. The long hallway. A noise from my mother's bedroom. Walking in- she lay naked on the bed. With a man. A man who wasn't my father. "Oh hell," I whispered. I think it was the same year I married Leo in that stupid pretend ceremony. Would my entire life revolve around what happened when I was five?

My father brought me out of the memories. "I stayed with her because of the cancer. She admitted you saw them in bed. Your mother's mistakes were not your fault."

I covered my eyes. I wasn't crying, but I needed a moment.

Finally, I glanced up at my father. "You think I partied and slept around because I saw Mom in bed with another man?"

His steady gaze held mine. "Yes, I do."

"This isn't the same decade, Dad. Women in this day and age have sex and make decisions like men do. How many women did you sleep with before Mom?" They'd married when my father was twenty-eight. I watched my father's face heat up. "Exactly." I stood again. "Did you pitch a marriage arrangement to Brack when you hired him?"

My father had the grace to look ashamed. "He didn't exactly jump at my offer, if that's what you're getting at."

"No, but he kept quiet about who he truly was. Who his father was. He had no problem jumping into bed with me as soon as his dick overruled his judgment."

Now my father covered his eyes. "Olivia, please."

"No, you please. Stay. Out. Of. My. Life." I walked away, unable to look at my father any longer. Yes, I still loved him. I wanted to throttle him, too. Right before I reached the door, I turned. "You might have ruined my chance with the only man I've ever loved. I hope you can live with yourself."