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Alex signed slowly, so she was able to understand the gist of what he said. “She’s taking a break. You have ten minutes.”

“That’s all I need. Thank you, Alex.”

English’s room was pretty much the same as the last time she was in here. This time, though, he had a bandage wrapped around his head, reminding her of the critical surgery he’d lived through. The last update from the doctor hadn’t provided much information. Only time would tell what lasting effects English would have from his attack. Reagan had come to Fire Creek, in part, to demand answers from her father, but she resigned herself to the fact she may never get them.

She moved closer to his bed, her gaze locked on his hands where they rested above the covers. If Becky was in here, she would be holding one of his hands in hers or maybe touching his cheek to let him know she was by his side. Reagan wasn’t ready to provide that level of comfort. Her heart ached to know English was fighting for his life, but she couldn’t let go of her resentment.

“You’ve created a mess,” she finally told him. “I know you probably don’t know. I mean, maybe you’ve heard us talking, but who knows if you really can hear anything? I may be wasting my breath here, but I have some things to say anyway. I have no idea what’s going to happen. But the minute I get the chance, I’m returning to my life and forgetting you. So I’m going to have my say in case I don’t get another opportunity.”

She stepped closer to the side of his bed and peered into his pale face. “I am glad you survived the surgery. I hope it was the right call. I felt like it was a risk you would take because, let’s face it, anyone who works for the CIA is someone who takes risks. I guess I shouldn’t say it too loud, should I? That you’re CIA? I mean, anyone can hear me, right? Well, too bad. The cat’s out of the bag. You’re Legend.”

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, forgetting for a moment that he was unconscious. “What kind of nickname is that anyway? A man who runs out on his wife and child doesn’t deserve a name like Legend. Your boys would disagree, I’m sure, but the name is too good for you. And speaking of your boys, I suppose that’s the answer I’ve been wanting, right? I said if I ever saw you again, I would ask why you left. It didn’t matter so much why you and Mom divorced. I had enough friends with divorced parents to understand that it happens sometimes. No, I wanted to know why you wanted nothing to do withme.And now I know. You wanted sons. I was a disappointment to you. Most men want sons, or at least that’s what I’ve heard before, so I shouldn’t be surprised you chose them over me.”

She wasn’t aware she was crying until she felt a tear slip down her cheek and fall to English’s hand. She swiped at her eyes before realizing it was futile. The tears were flowing steadily.

“Well, it’s your loss. If you had stuck around, you could have seen me win dance trophies and letter in softball. You could have seen me graduate in the top ten of my high school class. I have a business degree. Did you know that? I already know you found out I’m a published author I’m not a bestseller yet, but the book I’m working on now has tremendous potential.”

She suddenly recalled a random thought, and her sad gaze rested on her father’s face. “Becky let it slip that you had all of my books. She borrowed them from you and read them all. Did you read them? Why? If you care nothing for me, why bother to read my books? Nothing about you makes sense. Why am I even bothering to figure you out? You’ve never tried to get to know me. You didn’t even trust your boys enough to tell them about me. You’ve put me in danger, and because of your secrets, no one can figure out who’s coming after us. You’re an asshole, English Barlowe.”

Reagan could feel her anger bubbling up, and she struggled to rein it in. The hospital was not the place for her to lose control, and her father wasn’t worth it. She said what she wanted to say, but she didn’t feel the release she expected. She only felt loss for a relationship she never had and never acknowledged she wanted.

“I’ll stick around long enough to know you’re out of the woods. Then I’m walking away. I’m not coming back. I’m not thinking about you. I’m not lifting a finger for you. You had better change your medical proxy to Jackson or one of the boys because I’m done. No more manipulating me, English. I deserve better than that. I deserve better than you.”

She turned and stepped away from the bed. She gasped when a firm grip on her wrist pulled her back. She jerked her eyes to stare at English’s hand where it touched her skin, the contact warm and disconcerting. Her head snapped to the side, and when her eyes met a pair so much like her own, she almost forgot how much she hated him.

“Reagan.” His deep voice rasped from lack of use. Considering he’d been in a coma, he seemed alert, and she had a sudden realization that he’d come out of his coma before she’d walked into his room. He lay there pretending to be unconscious while she poured out her heart.

“What…how long…why didn’t you say something? Are you alright?”

“I’m…sorry.”

Reagan’s heart pounded hard enough in her chest to echo in her ears. His apology stunned her, and she wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for.

She pulled her arm away, thankful he released her without a fuss. “English. How are you feeling?”

“Like hell,” he grumbled, closing his eyes.

That was all she needed to push her out of her daze. “Oh, God. Right. You need to see a doctor. Wait here.” She turned, realized what she said, and turned back. “I mean just wait. I’ll get a nurse.”

“Reagan. No. Please.”

She froze. Thepleasesounded odd coming from him. Even with her good memories of him in her early years, she’d never known him to sound as vulnerable as the single word made him sound.

“You should let the doctor examine you.”

“I will. I need to know what happened first.” He pushed his fists against the mattress to shift his body up. He winced and cradled his head with his palm. He blinked in surprise as he gingerly touched the bandage wrapped around his head.

“You don’t remember.” She stepped closer to his bedside, studying him closely and forgetting she wanted more distance between them.

“I remember last call and sending Jackie and East on their way. The boys?”

“Are fine. Well, they’re pissed off at me, but otherwise fine.”

She was amazed to hear him chuckle even as he grimaced from the pain it caused. “That’s my girl.”

Reagan stiffened. “I’m not your girl. You gave up the right to call me your girl a long time ago.”

He dropped his hand back to the bed. “I know. But you’re here.”