Page 107 of Craig

The bastard had waited until they had finished the meal and had solemnly told them he wanted to speak to them about something of the utmost importance. Craig had thought he had received unwelcome news about his illness and that it had progressed even more.

He had been harboring secret thoughts of affection for the man and now this!

"Stay out of it. This is between me and this shell of a human being."

"Watch your tongue."

"Or what?" Craig asked furiously.

"You're going to take away my inheritance? Cut me off? Go ahead." he invited.

"Do your worst."

He turned to Regina.

"We're leaving. You can stay in this pile of rocks all by yourself. I refuse to be in the same space with you. Regina, let's go."

"But you can't," Cecil blustered, clutching his chest.

"This is your home. You can't-"

"Watch me. Regina-"

"Craig! He's having a heart attack."

"He's faking-"

"Call 911!" she cried, rushing over as the man collapsed back on the sofa.

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"You should sit," Regina advised, her eyes tracking his progress as he paced the length of the waiting room. It had been two hours since they raced to the hospital behind the ambulance.

Cecil had been rushed into surgery immediately. Wasn't it ironic that the man had pretended to be at death's door and was now dying?

"I should leave. He means nothing to me," he muttered.

"That son of a bitch manipulated me."

"And look how well it turned out. Darling, please."

She patted the space beside her. She was worried about him.

He hadn't said a word on the journey here, and she was aware that he was still angry. She had moved from shock to anger to amusement.

Cecil Muldoon might have used a not-so-fair method to get his way, but the end result was wonderful.

"I can't."

"I care about him."

Her quiet tone had him wheeling around to stare at her. "Why?"

"So do you." She held out a hand.

Hesitating briefly, he crossed the room to take it. Applying pressure, she tugged him down.

"I hate him."