Page 2 of Cryptic Curse (Bellamy Brothers #7)

HAWK

P resent Day…

“What’s up, Fal?” I say into my phone.

“Hawk. Thank God you answered,” my older brother, Falcon, says.

My brothers and sisters always give me shit about not answering my phone. Texting is easier for me, and it’s the method I prefer. That way I can answer at my leisure.

“It finally happened,” Falcon says. “Dad’s awake.”

His words rattle around my head like loose ping-pong balls before they register.

I should probably feel happy about the news. Our father has been in a coma for the past several months after a botched suicide attempt.

The whole thing makes no sense. Austin Bellamy is a great shot. If he’d truly wanted to kill himself, he probably could have. But he only grazed his skull, which doesn’t explain the coma.

The doctors can’t find any medical explanation for it, and though I hate myself for thinking it, I’ve wondered if he could be faking.

Austin Bellamy couldn’t fake a coma by himself, of course. But he could with help. Someone could easily be on the inside at the hospital dosing him up with drugs to keep him unconscious.

Why would he fucking do that?

Why would he try to kill himself in the first place?

And why would he botch it so badly?

I have no answers, but when it comes to my father, nothing should surprise me.

I hold back a scoff. My relationship with my parents is fucked up to the nth degree. I’m actually closer to my father than I am to my mother.

“I’ll get there as soon as I can,” I say to Falcon.

“Great. Thank God. This is such awesome news.”

“Yeah, sure is.” I end the call.

I walk outside, get into my truck, put it in gear, and start the drive to the hospital that has been my father’s home since his suicide attempt.

I hate the guilt that nags me. It scratches the back of my neck like a stray cat clawing at me.

I haven’t visited Dad much. Mom goes every day, of course, and spends a few hours with him. Falcon and Savannah, his fiancé, go often as well. I’ve probably been there more often than Eagle, though. My younger brother always has his own agenda.

When I reach the hospital, I bypass the valet parking—even though I have fortune enough for ten lifetimes, I’m never ostentatious—and park in the lot. I get out of the truck, lock it with my key fob, and then walk into the hospital, my boots clicking on the marble tile.

I stroll to the elevator, press number four, and head up to my father’s room.

When was I last here?

Last week, I think. I sat next to my mother for about an hour, saying nothing to her or to my comatose father. When a spam text hit my phone, I told my mother it was important and I had to go.

She didn’t ask me to elaborate.

If she had, I would have made something up.

But part of me knew she wouldn’t. She and I are kind of like oil and water. I have no doubt that she loves me just as much as she loves my brothers and sisters, but yeah. We don’t really mix.

When I was little, I wondered if it was because I was the only one who didn’t get her eyes.

Now I realize that we’re just different. We look at life in opposite ways. She likes to tell me I look at things in absolutes—what’s right and what’s wrong. In her eyes, nothing is truly wrong or truly right.

Frankly, I think that’s bullshit.

But she is who she is, and I am who I am.

I walk through the hallway leading to my father’s room.

“Hey, Hawk,” one of the nurses says to me.

I give her a friendly wave and smile. “Hi, Grace.”

“Such amazing news about your dad.” Grace’s eyes shine.

Grace has been my dad’s day nurse since he got here. She’s taken great care of him, and a few times I’ve thought about asking her out for coffee.

She’s really pretty—blond hair, blue eyes, killer body—but something has always stopped me.

“Yeah, thanks.” I give her a smile. “Is my mom in there?”

“Yeah, and Falcon and Savannah too.”

“I’m sure my sisters and brother will be here soon.”

“Anyway…” Grace bites her lip.

“Yeah?”

She sighs. “I need to see your ID.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What? You know who I am.”

“I know. But your brother?—”

“Falcon?”

“Yeah. He says we need to ID everyone who goes into your dad’s room now.”

I narrow my eyes. “Uh…why, exactly?”

She shrugs. “You can ask him, I guess. He’s arranged for an armed security guard to stand outside the room.”

“What the…?”

Grace sighs. “He insists. Claims the security team says no exceptions, not even for family.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

She shrugs. “It seems a little excessive, but I just work here. The guard should get here soon. In the meantime…”

I shake my head, pull my wallet out of my pocket, and flash her my driver’s license. “There you go.”

“Great photo!” She smiles. “I look like a caterpillar in mine.”

“How could you look like a caterpillar?” I ask. “I’m not even sure what that means.”

“I’m totally serious.” Grace reaches behind the nurse’s station and grabs her purse. She takes out her wallet and hands me her license.

Oh my God. She does look like a caterpillar. Her eyes are half-lidded, her mouth is scrunched into this awkward uncertain line, and her hair is slicked back so tightly she could pass for a larva mid-transformation.

I glance at her and then back at the photo. “Were you…molting?”

Grace snorts and snatches the license out of my hand. “It was raining. I had the flu. And I was running late, okay?”

“Still adorable,” I say, grinning.

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the blush creeping up her neck. “Shut up.”

“Never.” I smile again and then walk the few more steps to my father’s room, where the door is slightly ajar.

“Hey,” I say as I enter.

My father is sitting up in bed, his eyes open. His face is gaunt. He’s lost some weight. I suppose living solely on IV fluids and a food tube will do that to you.

“Hawk,” my mother says. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Her voice is even. Artificially so. Is she really glad I’m here, or is that just what a mother is supposed to say when she sees her son?

She’s in a chair at my father’s bedside, holding his hand. I walk over, lean down, and give her a kiss on the cheek. Falcon and Savannah are standing at the foot of his bed. I nod to them.

Then I go around to the other side of the bed. “Dad, how are you?”

“I’m… The fence is good,” Dad says. Then he blinks his eyes.

“He hasn’t been making a lot of sense,” Falcon says. “The doc says he may have some aphasia.”

“Meaning…?” I ask.

“Meaning he knows what he wants to say,” Mom says, “but it doesn’t come out quite right.”

I frown. “I see. Does that mean he suffered a stroke?”

“We don’t know yet,” Mom says. “The doctor seems to think it could resolve on its own. But he’s going down for an MRI soon so they can take a look at his brain.”

“I see.” I squeeze Dad’s shoulder. “It’s great to have you back, Dad.”

“Hawk is the door,” Dad says.

I guess that means he recognizes me.

“Raven and Vinnie are on their way,” Savannah says. “And Robin too.”

“I’ll go out into the hallway and wait for them,” I say. “I don’t want Dad to get overwhelmed.”

Mom nods. “All right, Hawk. I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for coming.”

I nod back at her. She doesn’t need to thank me for coming, and she knows it. He’s my father. Of course I would come.

Dad and I have a somewhat troubled history, but he’s my father. Plus, he gave me my blue eyes that have made me a chick magnet since I hit puberty. Something about the combination of tan skin, dark hair, and piercing blue eyes gets the women going like nothing else.

I pull Falcon aside for a minute. “What’s this ID requirement thing? Isn’t that overkill? Dad’s been here at the hospital for months already.”

“Not my idea,” Falcon says. “It was our attorney’s. And the security team backed him up.”

“Why, exactly?”

“Hell if I know.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Apparently now that Dad’s awake, things are different. Legal liability, inheritance, media vultures—they’re all circling.”

I narrow my eyes. “What does that have to do with checking my ID?”

Falcon leans in, his voice low. “Because if something happens to Dad now—anything—it’s going to blow back hard. They’re covering every base. Every person who steps foot in that room is logged.”

I glance toward the ICU doors. “So we’re treating him like a national secret now?”

“More like a walking target,” Falcon mutters. “You didn’t hear it from me, but someone tried to bribe a nurse last week to get access to his chart.”

My stomach drops. “What the hell?”

He nods grimly. “Yeah. So…ID checks. Security guard. Surveillance. All of it. Until we know who’s behind it.”

“Behind what?” I ask, suddenly colder.

Falcon looks me dead in the eye. “That’s the thing. We don’t know yet. Or if the attorneys do, they haven’t told me.”

I shake my head. “For fuck’s sake. Okay. I’ll wait outside for the others.”

I leave the room, only to run into Grace again.

She gives me another dazzling smile. “Just need to check your dad’s vitals.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m going to stay out here and wait for my sisters.”

Savannah didn’t say anything about Eagle being on his way.

Not a surprise.

As the youngest of our brood, Eagle has always had a wild streak. He tends to think with the wrong head, especially where Scarlett Ramsey is concerned.

Or he doesn’t think at all.

Which has gotten him in hot water more than once.

Does he even care what Falcon and I have given up for him? Especially Falcon. He went to prison for the SOB.

And I let him do it, even though I knew it wasn’t right.

I’ve tried to rationalize it. Weigh out the different outcomes.

But I’m not sure my conscience will ever be clean.