LaCroix stared at him. “You imagine my son would follow you to a different city?”
“Sure. Why not?” Rusty couldn’t help adding, “He can afford it.”
“He surely has better things to do.”
Rusty jerked his chin up because this reminded him too much of standing in front of his own father. He’d managed to not back down there, in the end. “Did your wife come today too? It’s a shame you two have missed so much of Cross’s medical journey. I bet he’ll be glad to see you.”
LaCroix’s eyes narrowed as if he hadn’t missed the accusation. Well, Rusty hadn’t been trying to be subtle. “I understand some friend of yours committed this kidnapping.”
Ouch.Although if LaCroix believed that, it explained the hostility coming off him. “Not a friend.”
“Someone you were intimate with.”
“An ex. Yeah.”
“Does my son know that?”
“Since Cross was the one who helped me tell the asshole to take a hike months ago, yeah, he knows that.”
LaCroix took a step toward Rusty. Rusty had to control his instinct to give way. Cross’s dad had the power suit and the power attitude. Rusty felt young and grubby and stupid, but the one thing he also was, was stubborn. So he held his ground.
LaCroix said, “I imagine this is all academic, since I don’t expect RJ to return to playing hockey.”
Rusty flinched because yeah, that’s what the docs said. But that was Cross’s call, not theirs. “You never know. Don’t count him out.”
“Don’t be stupid. I have the full reports from his surgical and physiotherapy teams.”
“Isn’t that Cross’s personal shit? How come you get to see it?”
“I have his medical power of attorney when his sister is out of the country.” LaCroix raised a cool eyebrow. “You do understand the concept?”
“Sure. He has mine.” Well, he would, as soon as Rusty could arrange it. Right now, the closest Rusty had to next of kin was probably the team holding his contract, and he sure didn’t trustthem to have his interests at heart.Cross would do that for me, right?He realized he was sure of it. “Does he know you use it to spy on him?”
“It’s not spying. He’s my son. I have a parent’s duty to be sure he’s well.”
“He’s thirty years old. I figure it becomes invasion of privacy after age eighteen.”
“You wouldn’t know, would you? I have reports on you. Your own father isn’t speaking to you.”
The sharpness of that cut stabbed into Rusty’s chest. He flashed back, “At least he didn’t let my grandfather bully me like you did Cross.”
“What are you talking about? Andwhydo you keep calling him that silly hockey nickname? Aren’t you two supposed to beclose?”
“Because he asked me to. Because you let his Grandpère bully him out of his own name and he chose that one.”
“He is RJ. The family has called him that since he was small.”
“Yeah, but did youaskif you could?” Rusty ran his hand over his face, reminded by the sting in his jaw that they’d just been through a lot and maybe Cross’s dad was super stressed after being scared to death. “Look, I don’t want to fight. You call him RJ. I call him Cross. He’s a big boy, he can speak up if he wants either of those to change.”
“Indeed. When he takes his place in our family business, RJ will be much more appropriate.”
Rusty laughed. “Yeah, whatever. When he’s old and gray, maybe.”
“I expect him to move into the position waiting for him as head of our charitable arm as soon as he is well enough to travel.”
“Yeah? Don’t hold your breath.”
“He’s played his silly game for ten years—”
