Chapter 14

14

"How long is this silent treatment supposed to go on?" Arms folded, André stood in the doorway to Jules's bedroom, eyeing her as she reclined on the bed, staring at the TV and pretending not to notice him.

From the moment they'd left Gideon's place, Jules had made her disapproval of André's decision quite clear. She'd obviously developed a soft spot for Gideon. André hadn't told her everything and he suspected she knew that, but he wasn't going to burden his little sister with all the fucked-up things that were happening. He didn't see a reason why they should remain at Gideon's.

André's attraction to him didn't count.

They were back home, had been for a week, and were safe. He made sure to check out their surroundings whenever they went out and whenever he was driving, but there'd been nothing to make him think they were in danger. Maybe Gideon had been wrong. Maybe he embellished the whole thing just to keep André with him longer.

Whatever it was, they were away from Gideon's world now. Which was the best thing for him and Jules. Didn't mean he didn't wish otherwise from time to time, but that should go away eventually. Right?

"Jules." He waited for a response, and when he didn't get one, he sighed. "Fine. Just…come eat. Dinner's ready." He turned away reluctantly, making his way to the kitchen.

He'd tried to get them back into their normal routine since returning home, but Jules wasn't having it. She was pissed at him, and no one could hold a grudge like a teenage girl.

Jules appeared after he'd set the table and they sat, eating without speaking.

"You and I belong here." He finally broke the silence. "Gideon's world is not ours, Jules. We can't forget that. We had to return to our real world sooner or later."

"Did we?" She fixed him with an unblinking stare. "Or were you doing what you always do, acting like you don't need anybody else?"

He frowned, dropping his fork back onto his plate. "I don't need anybody else." Why would he? "I have you."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm your sister. A teenager. You need someone around who's your same age, idiot. And someone who actually likes you and wants to be with you."

He coughed to mask his surprise. "And what, you think that someone is Gideon Winters?"

"It could be.'' She shrugged and picked up her fork, turning her attention to her plate. "But we'll never know because you ran away like a coward."

Another thing teenage girls were good at, calling bullshit. He didn't give her any credit though, didn't tell her she might be right. He had felt like a coward as he'd left Gideon's place. But leaving had been the right thing to do. Despite how he might feel about Gideon, André didn't belong in that world. He didn't know that he wanted to be in it. Seeing his father unconscious in that hospital bed, hooked up to machines helping to keep him alive? That shit was scary, and it painted a picture of what life could be like. Gideon hated Ennis. He wanted him dead. And he'd made no secret of his intent to use André to achieve his agenda against Ennis.

Why should André choose to stay with him?

"It was the right thing," he said out loud.

Jules sighed and put her fork down, rolling away from the table. "I'm going back to my room."

"You haven't finished eating."

"I'm not hungry. You can?—"

A loud bang drowned out her words. André jumped to his feet just as two men raced into the room, both of them carrying guns.

Jules screamed.

André grabbed the knife he'd just been using to cut his steak and rushed to stand in front of Jules, hiding her with his body as he brandished the weapon. "Who are?—"

"We need to leave," one of the men said sharply. "Mister Winters wants you back at the penthouse."

André blinked. What the fuck? His heart was about to leap out of his fucking chest and this was all Gideon?

"What's happening?" Jules grabbed his hand. "André?"

He squeezed her hand in reassurance as he addressed the strangers. "Listen, I don't know?—"

"Sir, we don't have time for this." The second one glanced over his shoulder, then back to André. "There's been a credible threat made on your life. We need to take you and your sister to safety."

Was this Gideon trying to force them to return to him? "We're not leaving." He took a deep breath to calm himself down. "Jules and I are safe here. I don't know why Gideon thinks our lives are in danger, but I can assure you, they're not."

The second guy put his wrist up to his mouth and spoke into what was clearly a mic. "He's refusing to come, sir." He listened, then nodded. "Got it." Then he turned to André. "You have five minutes to pack whatever you two might need. When that time is up, we'll be carrying you two out. By force if necessary."

"You can't fucking?—"

Something wet splashed his face. Jules's scream pierced his ears and André blinked in time to watch the second guy drop to the floor, half his head missing. The first guy spun, shooting at a target André couldn't see. Then he dropped too.

André ducked, grabbing a screaming Jules just as two masked men appeared, both carrying what looked like AK-47s.

Oh god. Oh god. No. André froze. The scent of blood filled his nostrils and Jules's never-ending screams blasted his ears. He could barely stand so he fell to his knees, wrapping both arms around Jules as the masked men casually stepped over the two dead bodies and approached.

"Please."

"Shut the fuck up." One of them pointed a gun at Jules, instantly silencing her screams, and André's heart stopped.

"P-please. Don't?—"

"This all depends on you," the one with the gun on Jules said. His voice was low, with an accent André couldn't place.

"What-what do you want?" He didn't know how he managed to even speak coherently, but protecting Jules was the goal. Whatever they wanted he would give, even if it was his own life. His sister shook like a leaf in his arms, her helpless whimpers hitting him like daggers to the chest.

"You're coming with us," the second masked man said. He grabbed André by the arm and yanked him to his feet. "Someone wants a word with you."

"Dré!" Jules reached for him.

The one holding her at gunpoint pressed the gun to her temple.

"No!" André held out both hands, shaking, stammering. "Please. I'll go with you. Whatever you want, just don't hurt her. Please. Please. " Tears streamed down Jules's face, and he took a step toward her, to comfort her.

A sharp blow to the back of the head sent him to the floor.

"Don't fucking move. We only need you alive. The girl is disposable."

"No. No. Jules. Jules." He held out a hand for her as she reached for him, but the guy took hold of her wheelchair, wheeling her away.

"No!"

She screamed for him. "Please don't take her," he begged. "Please don't hurt my sister. Please. I will do?—"

The one with Jules suddenly jerked and stumbled, then he fell face down. Jules kept screaming. The sound of guns going off filled the room, then the second masked man fell to the floor. André scrambled to get to Jules.

"Gideon!"

André blinked, shaking his head. What?

Gideon appeared in his line of sight, kneeling next to Jules, cupping her face and whispering to her. She clung to him, sobbing, and he shoved the gun he held into his waistband before scooping her up out of her chair.

Gideon was there?

Someone helped André up off the floor. Samir.

André couldn't— "What's happening?" he asked Gideon.

The other man eyed him up and down, furious anger in his eyes. "How is he?" he asked Samir.

"Physically unharmed."

"Then let's get the fuck out of here."

They had to walk over all the dead bodies to leave the room. All of Gideon's people were there, and they surrounded them as they left the building. André didn't have the bandwidth to process what was happening, what had happened.

But he knew it was his fault.

Gideon's men had died because of André.

Jules had been threatened and was scared out of her mind because of André.

Samir, who'd been holding on to André, helped him up into the back of an SUV. He sat next to Gideon, who still had Jules in his arms, her face buried under his chin as he stroked her back gently.

André watched them with a knot in his throat. Gideon represented safety to Jules. She didn't reach for André because she knew Gideon would protect her, unlike André, who'd led her straight into danger.

A tap came on the door next to Gideon, then it opened and Samir appeared, telling Gideon, "We kept one of them alive."

"Good." Gideon's tone was clipped. "Bring him with us. And somebody find me Sienna fucking Canto."

Sienna Canto. Ennis's daughter, Sienna? Why would Gideon— "D-don't hurt her."

Gideon's gaze swung over to him. There was nothing soft in them. Just pure rage that he seemed to be struggling to control.

"Don't hurt Sienna to get to our—her—father."

"Oh, I won't. I will, however, kill her for orchestrating what happened here tonight."

"W-what?"

Gideon's gaze bored into him. "Your father is awake. And he has some interesting things to share."

André ignored the tremors running through his body. It was surreal, all of it. Being back at Gideon's penthouse. The dead bodies they'd left behind at André's place. The fact that Gideon had yet to discuss any of it. They'd sat side by side in the SUV, aggression and anger pouring off Gideon in waves.

Yet as Jules clung to him, he comforted her with soothing touches and softly murmured words. André didn't get any of that, and he didn't think he'd ever be jealous of his little sister but he'd wanted Gideon to soothe him too. But he wouldn't. André didn't expect that from him, not after the mess André had made of things.

Gideon had warned him, and he'd chosen not to listen. Now here they were. Jules traumatized. André unable to do anything but sit there with his mouth shut. He knew for a fact that what happened tonight wouldn't have happened at Gideon's place. The penthouse was a fortress, packed full of armed men.

And André chose to go it alone.

He rubbed a shaking hand over his jaw as he followed Gideon and Samir out of the elevator.

"Jules." Gideon kissed her temple and she let out a whimper, tightening her arms around his neck. "I need to go handle some business with your brother."

"No."

André's heart, already bruised and battered in his chest, ached at the fear in that one reply. He'd done that. He'd allowed that to happen and Jules had decided he wasn't the person she wanted to comfort her. "Jules." He touched her shoulder gently. "Gideon will be back." He didn't look at the man in question when he said it. "I promise." Not that his promises were worth anything to her after today.

"How about I take you to your bedroom?" Gideon glanced around and then asked Samir, "Where's her chair?"

"It's being brought up."

"I'll take you to your bedroom," Gideon told her. "You can rest there, have the chef make you whatever you want to eat, and then when I'm done, I'll come back to you and we'll do whatever makes you happy." He cupped her face, smiling down at her. "How does that sound?"

For the longest time after their mother died, it'd been André and Jules against the world. He'd been the one to raise her, to guide her through life. He had never given thought to having a partner who could share that role with him. Watching Gideon be so sweet and attentive to his sister, his eyes gentle even with splatters of blood on his clothes, André knew Gideon Winters was a different breed altogether.

And André might have already missed out on him. On experiencing him.

When Jules nodded, Gideon grinned and pivoted, arms around her as she clung to him like a spider monkey as they made their way to "her bedroom"—the one she'd stayed in previously. André followed while Samir remained outside. Inside, Gideon laid Jules on the bed and bent over her, whispering something way too softly for André to hear.

"Chair's here," Samir called from outside the door.

André went and retrieved Jules's wheelchair, parking it beside her bed so she'd be able to access it easily should she need to move about. When Gideon stepped away from her, André knelt at the side of the bed, touching Jules's cheek. She gazed up at him with wet eyes and the apologies all got bungled up in his throat, choking him.

"Jules, I'm so sorry."

A sob racked her body and she threw her arms up. He went to her, scooping her up in his arms, whispering his apologies as she cried. When her sobs eased, he wiped her face with his thumb. "I need to go with Gideon, but when I come back, we'll talk. Okay?" He had to figure out a way to help her deal with what she'd experienced tonight. He refused to allow it to fester into something that would ultimately damage her. Jules was too pure for that. Too innocent. "You'll be okay," he reassured her. "You're safe. Nothing will happen to you here."

She nodded and he kissed her forehead before easing her back onto the pillows. "Close your eyes. Try to rest. I'll be back before you know it." Reluctantly, he stood and walked out of the room.

"One of the guys will be stationed outside her door."

André tensed at Samir's words. "Why? Aren't we safe here?"

"You are," Gideon said from behind him, voice tight. "But Jules might need something while we're gone."

André nodded, swallowing thickly. "Right."

"Let's go." Gideon brushed past him.

Everything about tonight hurt. But Gideon's attitude hurt the most. And even though André understood it, he still wanted to demand Gideon look him in the eyes because he hadn't done that since they'd first spoken in the SUV on their way over. He wanted to demand Gideon treat him the way he'd treated André before.

Before André allowed his pride and his fears to fuck it all up.

He didn't say anything though. Instead, he followed Samir and Gideon to the secret elevator that took them down to the med unit. And to the man lying on that bed, head turned away, eyes closed.

His father.

They'd never met in person, and André had accepted that they never would. Yet here they were.

Ennis's eyes opened when they entered the room. André hung back, trying to hide between Gideon's and Samir's bodies.

"André? My son?"

He'd heard Ennis speak on TV, but hearing his name—filled with worry—coming from the lips of the man who'd rejected him? André's heartbeat sped up, pulse thudding in his ears. Heat flooded his body and he wanted to turn and run. There was something about not being wanted by a parent. Not being accepted—or even acknowledged—by them. That something was pouring out of him now, hot and toxic.

"Where is my son?" The urgency and panic in Ennis's voice was a direct contradiction to what André knew and had experienced over the years.

He couldn't do this. Gideon wanted him to be there, but he didn't think he could do it. As if aware of André's spiraling thoughts, Gideon stepped to the side, allowing Ennis's gaze to fall on André.

He didn't miss the stark relief that flooded the older man's pain-creased features.

"André."

André tore his gaze away from the man who'd fathered him.

"As you can see, he's here," Gideon said. "And he's safe, but if my men and I had gotten to his place just a minute later, he and his sister wouldn't be alive. Your daughter sent assassins."

André's head spun. Nothing made sense. Why would the sister he'd never met want to kill him? How did Sienna even know about his existence? And why was Ennis watching him with such softness in his eyes? Nothing made sense.

"Explain," Gideon ordered brusquely. "You owe your son and me that much. Explain why your daughter wants him—and you—dead."

André swallowed a gasp. Sienna was the one who tried to kill Ennis? What the fuck was going on?

Ennis released a sigh. Keeping his gaze on André, he said, "Years ago, I had a health scare. We kept it under wraps, but there was a real chance I wouldn't have made it. I made some changes to my will. Recently, Sienna was able to get into the paperwork and see that she wasn't the one I'd named to take over as my proxy on The Council."

What was The Council?

Gideon clearly knew because he inhaled swiftly. "André is your proxy?"

What was a proxy?

"From the moment he was born."

Gideon made a sound, swiping a hand over his jaw while André just stood there. It was as if they were all speaking a different language than the one he knew and understood.

"Sienna confronted me. I told her she had a brother and confirmed that they would each be inheriting half of everything I owned."

"Wait, what?" The words burst from André. "What?"

"She was mad about that, but when I refused to change my proxy to her, that's when she became livid." Ennis pursed his lips. "If I'm dead, she can forge paperwork and name herself my proxy since André had no clue about any of it. Or if André's dead, then she becomes my proxy by default as my only living heir."

Jesus. These people were something else. This was whose blood ran through his veins? There were a million questions André wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to say, but his throat refused to work. He needed to sit the fuck down.

"You were always in danger being my son," Ennis said, addressing him directly. "To protect you, I had to ensure that we were never connected, but naming you as my proxy was a selfish act on my part. I wanted my son to have something from me. And I wanted you to know that even though I wasn't in your life, I never stopped thinking of you or loving you." His voice got weaker but he kept going, eyes pleading for André to believe him. "I've always been proud of you."

Tears blurred André's vision but he refused to let them fall. "No." He took a step backward. And then another. "No." After everything he'd seen his mother go through, her pain and heartache, he would not be taken in by this man and his words that were decades too late. "I don't know what any of what you just said meant, but I want nothing from you." Certainly not Ennis's businesses or his money. "We can go back to you rejecting me."

"André." Ennis's expression crumpled, but André refused to feel for him. "Please."

André turned and walked out.