Page 27 of Hard as Steel

A guy in a fancy suit—like a butler or chauffeur would wear—stood on the other side, holding a box. “Are you Steel?”

“Yeah, who’s asking?”

The guy didn’t break character at all. He was obviously from a pretentious home or service. “I have a delivery for you.”

“Oh.” Now he felt like an ass. His parents just brought something ugly out in him. He dug a twenty from his wallet and handed it the man’s way as he reached for the box he was being handed.

The man paused, looked down at the money, and slowly raised his chin to meet Steel’s gaze. “You can keep that.”

Steel couldn’t decide if he was being insulted for a paltry tip or if the guy couldn’t accept the money. “Okay.” He awkwardly took the box. “Thanks, I guess.”

The man gave a short bow and walked away.

Steel closed the door, shaking his head. He eyed the box. It was a plain white package with no indication of where it was from. Steel set it on the desk and lifted the lid. A two-hundred-and-seventy-five-thousand-dollar bottle of champagne stared up at him. Steel blinked. He picked up the small card inside and flipped it open.

Congratulations on your loss—K

Steel’s eyes swung back to the bottle. A smile spread across his lips. He should have known—no matter where they were in their lives—Krystof would somehow show up. He still hated him, of course. But Krystof had shown up when no one else had, and Steel appreciated the nod.

Steel loathed the sounds and smells of a hospital.

With his legs crossed at the ankles and his head resting against the wall behind his chair, Kuba stared at the ceiling. Steel had never seen anyone get a flight so fast. He hadn’t expected Kuba would arrive for hours, if not the next day. Steel stared at him. He looked just like his mother. She had been a beautiful woman, much to Steel’s annoyance. Steel also knew she had been kind and fragile—a lot like Krystof. Them being best friends made sense. No one understood them the way they had each other. Knowing Kuba lost someone he loved like that had all of Steel’s emotions on high alert. He couldn’t lose Krystof. Kuba had already lost Anastasia.

“I hope you know, no matter the circumstances, I’m really sorry you lost her. From what I understand, you were her everything.”

Kuba didn’t budge from staring at the ceiling. Steel got the impression he was trying hard not to cry. “Thanks for that. I know you’re not the kind of guy to wish someone dead.”

That wasn’t true at all. Steel had wished his parents dead a million times as far back as he could remember. Steel wasn’t about to admit that. People with even subpar parents probably wouldn’t understand that. Children whose parents tortured them would know exactly how much he had meant every wish.

They sat in silence again. Diesel had gone back to the house to pack a bag for Steel and Krystof, so he wouldn’t have to leave. They were alone in the ER waiting room. When he had gotten there, the place had been slammed. They had sat there for so long that everyone else had been seen.

“Did you ever meet my grandfather?” Kuba asked out of the blue. “Dad’s dad, of course. Not that it matters. Both my grandfathers might as well have been the same person with the way they acted.”

Steel shook his head, even though Kuba wasn’t looking at him. That was all he could manage.

Kuba kept talking, as if he would have continued whether he had been answered or not. “He was a cold bastard. He didn’t care if anyone liked him. Not even his family. Life was about money and making more of it. He treated everyone as a transaction. If you were useful and helped him grow richer, he showed something akin to love. That was how he kept Dad in line. Dad wanted love, and that old bastard would pretend to give it as long as Dad did everything to his version of right.” Kuba’s hands rose and fell. “Honestly, I’ve always wondered how Dad turned out the way he did. He didn’t have a role model to show him how to love. Then he told me about you.” A small smile appeared on Kuba’s lips. “The moment he started talking, I saw it. I saw the love spring to life in his eyes, and I finally understood. You’re where he learned it. I don’t know what gave you the strength to forgive him. But I’m so fucking happy you did because he deserves people who love him back. There’s nothing he won’t sacrifice for other people. He needs someone who would do the same for him. God knows I can’t recall seeing him love himself.”

Steel’s throat nearly swelled shut. He hadn’t forgiven Krystof, not really. Steel hadn’t realized that until they loaded the other half of his soul into the back of an ambulance with a paramedic straddling him and doing CPR. For six months, Steel had worked as much as possible, letting Krystof know he wasn’t as important as he used to be. He made sure Krystof understood Steel wouldn’t be broken the way Krystof had destroyed him last time. He had lived nearly twenty years without him, and he could do it again. Krystof wasn’t the center of his universe, and—unconsciously—Steel had done everything to show him that. If they had planned a wedding back in the day, Steel knew he would have been on top of every detail just the same as Krystof. They would have handled everything side by side. He had loved working from home. Krystof was always no more than a few walls away. Steel could put work on hold anytime he pleased to hold Krystof. Steel realized he could have easily done all of that now. He could have hired a manager months ago, but no. Without recognizing what he did, Steel had kept Krystof locked out of his heart beyond skin deep. Even when he had offered the manager position to Bridger, Steel’s only excitement about the move was how magnanimous he would look to Krystof. It was never about making Krystof happy. He was so fucking bitter and had been for so long that Steel didn’t even see it any longer. Now he did, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Krystof looked at him while throwing all the things Steel had definitely done in his face. He had made him hurt like that. Steel was supposed to be his soft place. He hadn’t been. He had been as hard as steel, living up to his name. Not just his first, but also his last, because that shit was the same bullshit his dad would have pulled. Steel had never hated himself more.

“Kuba?”

Kuba scrambled to his feet when a man in a white coat called his name. He waved for Steel to follow. Steel had already been half on his feet before Kuba beckoned him.

The doctor’s eyes moved between Kuba and Steel.

Kuba motioned Steel’s way. “It’s fine. This is Dad’s fiancé.”

A kind smile touched the man’s lips. He practically smelled like money, and Steel couldn’t explain that thought.

“Okay. I’m Dr. Whitman, Krystof’s doctor here in California. I work in conjunction with his doctor in Seattle to ensure he receives seamless care.”

That explained it. Rich man doctor who traveled from home to home to keep the wealthy from having to lower themselves to a regular doctor’s office. That wasn’t Krystof, of course. He just didn’t like going to the doctor. Krystof said they always found something wrong. In his case, that was true. He was still talking. Steel had to force himself to hear the words. That was how terrified and scattered he was.

“Your father suffered what’s known as stress cardiomyopathy. It’s when a person experiences sudden acute stress that rapidly weakens the heart muscle. Your body produces hormones, adrenaline and noradrenaline, that are meant to help cope with stress. However, the heart muscle can be overwhelmed by the massive amount of proteins that are suddenly produced in response to the stress. Excess adrenaline can narrow some or all of the small arteries that supply the heart with blood, which can—in some cases—stop the heart. The good news is that we have his heart stabilized. You’re welcome to see him, if you’d like. He’s heavily sedated to give his body time to rest and recover, but you two are welcome to sit with him.”

Steel wasn’t sure he had heard most of what the doctor had said. He knew what stress cardiomyopathy was. Broken heart syndrome. Literally everything was his fault. “Maybe I should hang back so you can spend a few minutes alone with him. I can wait for Diesel, so he knows where to go.”

Kuba shook his head. “He’s asleep. Dad won’t know I’m there. You go ahead and I’ll wait for Diesel. I need him.”