When all was cleared, Tyler beckoned that they could exit the vehicle with Morris and Martin going first. The sea before him parted in reverence, as the prince's shiny, black, leather shoes, hit the pavement, all cameras stopped flashing, and a pregnant silence greeted him. The tension seized every muscle in his body, as Tyler and Antwan flanked him. The 'Get Well Soon' signs of the well-wishers, and even the media hit him hard, causing him to falter slightly, triggering the tightening of Tyler's grip on his bicep. Panic seized him briefly, as his mind raced with what the silence could mean, but he forced himself to read their expressions. Relief washed through him on what he saw on their faces: they were waiting on him to tell them if their beloved king was okay.
Moved by the love, he paused to accept the comfort of an elderly woman, and as soon as he muttered that the king was still hanging on, a ripple went throughout the crowd, until it became a great cheer. It was then that he felt it, the intense feeling of hateful eyes boring into his flesh. He sucked in a breath when his steps faltered again, and Tyler's grip tightened as snatches of memory slammed into him. He had felt that very same eerie feeling before he'd seen the trailer aiming for their vehicle.
"Carter, are you, okay?" Tyler questioned, as the old woman let go of his now very icy hand, to bid him to hurry to the king. Tyler swallowed nervously at his chilly disposition, and hurried him towards the door that Martin and Morris were beginning to disappear behind.
"He's here," Carter ground out a bit harshly, trying unsuccessfully to suppress the adrenaline that was rushing through his veins, preparing him for a fight. He felt Tyler's finger flex on his arm, and saw the other man's strides lengthen, swears pouring from his mouth.
Tyler knew better than to question his instincts, he had remembered Carter muttering that the dead man they'd pulled from the truck hadn't been the driver before he'd fallen into a coma, and forensics had found that to be true. The reason they haven't caught the person who'd made the attempt on their lives, was because whoever it was, was an immaculate, professional hitman- there hadn't been a single trace of him in the truck. This man was a phantom. They couldn't afford to take any chances.
He pressed the prince forward, and relief rushed through him as they cleared the building. A doctor instantly met them to lead them to the cardiac unit. For now, they were safe- the future king was safe.
As they entered the elevator, the defensive adrenaline turned to fear in Carter’s bloodstream. Emotions began to become stuck in his throat as the elevator ascended, until there was a large lump. A shiver ran through his muscular frame, when the large, metal doors reluctantly separated after a ping, to spill them onto the cardiac unit's floor.
"The third door to your right."
The man's word faded into the background, as powerful emotions slammed into him when eyes identical to his meet his, full of joy. Carter could see the boy's mouth moving, but it was as if everything in him had stopped working but his eyes.
A kaleidoscope of sounds slammed into him when Tyler touched his arm, and he dragged in a much-needed breath.
"Grandpa, Papa is here; he's here!"
A swear spilled from Morris' lips, as his eyes clapped onto the miniature, carbon copy of his friend.
"Carter, your grandfather," Martin murmured, as the doctor looked at the group strangely, then at his watch. Within a blink of an eye, Carter had Morris pinned to the wall by his throat, his free hand drawn back in a fist.
"Did you know about him too?" Carter spat, as the now frazzled doctor held his biceps to prevent his fist from crashing into the blonde's nose.
"Your Highness—"
"I need to fucking know, right now, Morris, and don't you dare lie to me!" Carter snapped, his green eyes narrowing.
"Carter, he can't breathe, much more answer," Martin said airily, sounding a lot more relaxed than his expression was portraying.
"No, dammit!" Morris spat, and Carter easily released him, causing him to crumple to the floor.
Relief flashed through the emerald irises as he held out his hand to his friend. "Thank you."
Morris nodded in acknowledgment of his apology.
Swallowing shakily, he turned to follow the doctor into the king's room, where the little boy had disappeared into after seeing him. His throat and chest constricted, as he took in both the little boy and the older man in the room- such a great contrast between young and old.
"Carrie, take Aeri to get some ice-cream," the king muttered groggily, to a middle-aged brunette, sitting under the vast window.
The little boy whined. "But, Grandpa, I've been waiting so long for Pa to come back from his tour, and—"
The little boy's words faltered as the old man's green eyes leveled on him. Though hooked up to a million machines, the king's authoritative characteristics could not be hidden.
"Ok," the little boy murmured, and threw a pathetic, sad look on his father, shattering the six-foot-five-inch figure's heart.
Carter reached out his hand instinctively, aiming to take away the boy's pain and shield him, but his fingers curled into a fist, and fell to his side before touching the boy, due to the fear stifling him.
Wimp! A voice shouted in his mind.
Clenching his teeth, he tried to at least heal some of the boy's hurt. "I'll be with you in a few minutes, Aeri," he stated, the boy's name rolling off his tongue with ease, but pierced his heart with such vengeance.
Three major betrayals in less than twenty-four hours. How would he cope? He wondered.
The reward, however, was immense, for the boy's eyes instantly lit up. "Okay, Dad," he answered cheerfully, before skipping out with the woman who seemed to be his nanny.
A litany of swears tore pass his lips as soon as the door closed between him and his son. "What the fuck were you thinking?" Carter hissed, his expression menacing.
"Your Majesty," a young nurse tucked into the corner of the room said, as she rose to her feet when the king touched the bed's remote control, causing the once horizontal bed to begin to take the form of a relaxed 'L'.
The king flashed her a look that had her stopping in her tracks, before he rested his piercing gaze on his grandson. "I suggest that you remember to whom you speak, Leo. I can strip that title from you before you draw the next breath!" The old man stated menacingly.
"And I would still fucking survive with the four billion in my bank account, not to mention the liquidity of my companies," Carter returned heatedly.
A slight smile broke the harshness of the king's expression, as his green eyes softened. "That you might, my boy; that you might." He gestured to a chair, which Carter refused, still too worked up to behave relaxed. Too many emotions were churning in his stomach for him to even consider being calm. He wanted to grab his son, hop on his jet, and somehow, find Rochelle, along with his daughter.
In all that, something kept picking at him: who was his son's mother? Immediately, Carter sank into the cushioned chair.
Understanding darkened the king's eyes. "I see that it's finally sinking in, Leo, but it is not as you think, my child. I'm afraid that it's a lot more complicated than that."
Carter shot him a cold look. "And what am I thinking, Grandfather?" He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, before rising to his feet in agitation. "What sort of woman would allow you to implant some man's seed into her without his knowledge?" He spat.
"Rochelle."
Carter froze mid-pace, his heart hammering in his ear and a pain piercing his chest. He couldn't move or dared to breathe, in case he shattered. "Now, come on, boy, you should know your woman better." The king coughed, and the monitor spiked, causing fear to wash through Carter.
"Grandfather, you need to go and do the surgery. I'll be here when you get out," he said gently.
"Leo, you need to understand that I might not be here much longer; you need to know all the details."
A horrible cough sounded, and Carter saw a dip in the ECG. That can't be good, the younger man thought. Carter raised his hand at the nu
rse as she rose once more.
"Rochelle has no idea about Aeri. She hadn't even known that she'd been pregnant with twins. The doctors were paid well, and so was her father." He took in what looked like a painful breath. "I took Aeri, because he was the firstborn, and a male. Aeri would've been the next king in case they had finished what they had started with you and Rochelle. He would've been kept hidden until he was old enough to take the reign of the country."
The muscles in Carter's jaws flexed as he struggled with his emotions. "So you wouldn't have told me if you hadn't had this near-death experience?" Carter demanded.
The king shook his head. "I still can die, Leo." The old man struggled to swallow. "I hadn't planned to tell you about Aeri until after I tell you this. It was just that your son is just as demanding as his father, and he decided that he wanted to see his grandfather," the king murmured, his breath coming faster against the plastic of the facemask supplying him with added oxygen, but Carter's mind was still stuck on the fact that Aeri had not been the main reason that his grandfather had requested him to his bedside. The king cleared his throat, bringing Carter's attention to him solely. "Aeri was not the first twin that I separated in the name of saving the kingdom."
The blood slowly drained from Carter's face, and his breathing stilled.
"That time, however, things had- as the Americans say- backfired. I knew they would've targeted your father- I had warned him, but he'd been adamant that he could've protected his family." Carter closed his eyes. "Leo, your father hadn't known that he had another son."
Carter's fingers curled into fists, as he battled with his inner emotions. This was too much to take.
"It was never expected for them to strike and leave you behind; Liam would've taken place as the king."
Carter's eyes closed once more, questions on the tip of his tongue that he feared to voice. But one kept digging at him. "Where's Liam?" He questioned, grudgingly.
The king looked out the vast glass windows, a sad look on his shriveled face. "In the truck that slammed into your car ten years ago."
Carter rose to his feet so fast, that the chair crashed noisily to the cool, tiled floor of the room, its echo in time with the gasp of the nurse. "He's dead?" The deep baritone bounced painfully off the wall, sounding a little too loud for his own ears.
"No, Leo."
If he hadn't been the driver... Carter swore violently. "My own brother wouldn't do that!" He proclaimed coldly.
"Liam doesn't know that you are his brother." The king raised his gnarly hand to stop Carter's next words. "He was kidnapped a few days before the attack on your parents. Liam had no idea that he has a sibling; he had had no contact with family before he was taken, which was to help protect him. I doubt that he even thought that he had any. But I believe that he is being trained to see you as an imposter- a fake in his place."
Carter swore once more, turning his back to the elderly man before running his hands through his hair. "How do you know this?" He demanded, turning his hardened eyes onto his grandfather. What if this had continued to happen? Would the result be Aeri aiming to kill his sister? He cried out internally.
"The labs had gotten confused ten years ago, when the only other DNA that had been collected from the truck had been one identical to yours, but you couldn't have been in both places at once... Tyler came to me with the crime scene's evidence whilst you were in the coma, and I realized that Liam wasn't dead as I'd thought."
The muscles in Carter's jaws clenched then unclenched, and a sharp, yet unregistered pain, ran along the bones at the strenuous flexing of the muscles. "That means we cannot even track him in the system, because we don't know what name he was grown under." He swore some more. "He's well-trained, and almost invisible, if he goes around with almost a carbon copy of my blood and prints!" He hissed. He closed his eyes, and the innocent look of Aeri, the shy look of Alisa, and the pained look of Rochelle, flashed behind his lids, panic seizing him. "Oh shit; Rochelle, my children- he could strike at any time, and I would be powerless to protect them," he whispered anxiously.
Carter's head whipped up as the machine flattened with an alarm before picking up at a slower beat.
The nurse was immediately on her pager as she rushed towards the bed.
Carter's eyes widened, as the line flattened once more, and the nurse replaced the respirator over his mouth.
"Your Majesty, we need to take you into surgery now!" The woman stated firmly, grabbing an already liquid- filled needle from somewhere.
The king seemingly ignored the frustrated nurse, to latch onto his grandson's hand, dragging his focus to him. "I need you to forgive me, Carter. It was a pain to watch Aeri grow only knowing your pictures, or seeing you on television. It was eating away at me."
Carter nodded almost frantically, his composure cracking. His grandfather had been the only line of stability in his life from the death of his parents. "You're already forgiven, abuelo," he whispered harshly, yet, the old man's grip didn't loosen so that the nurse could do her job, before carting him off to surgery. "Abuelo—"
"Leo, I need you to promise me that you'll make an honest woman out of Rochelle. She's been through too much, and I fear that the knowledge of Aeri will cause her to hate me," he murmured weakly. For the first time, Carter's eyes fully took in the broken and defeated look on the old man's face.
He laughed, forcing lightness. "Rochelle could never hate anyone, especially, you, abuelo. But I have to say, I'm way ahead of you in the marriage department. I'm taking no prisoners there."
The old man laughed, or tried to, but instead, a horrible sound came from his chest, and Carter tried to hide his wince. The king's eyes suddenly became serious once more, the sparkle dimming in his green eyes. "Be gentle with her, Carter, and don't scare her."
Carter nodded in acknowledgment, his throat tightening as the monitor began flattening out once more, with fewer interruptions in the form of spikes. The nurse inserted the needle, emptying its contents as he held his grandfather's eyes. Carter straightened into his army stance, and saw a light of respect and appreciation shine in the old man's eyes.
The king was a proud man, and if he was going to go, he should go with respect. The doctors and nurses that rushed in, however, had another idea about the king dying under their roof.
Carter stepped back, knowing that the king would get the best treatment royalty, love, and money, could buy. He pressed his trembling lips together, as he watched them rush him to the operating room.
Morris and Martin stepped into the room, Tyler hot on their tails as the doctors carted away the oldest member of the royal family. He raised his hand to stop their comments, that would no doubt tear him, instead of healing him. He pulled on one of his many protective layers, and assumed the duties that would now fall to him as the regiment of the king.
No doubt the Prime Minister will be right along to officially activate the status, but first, Carter must take care of his own. "Tyler, ensure that Aeri gets here in two minutes flat, without a scratch, and have a hotel suite booked to accommodate everyone. No one should be separated tonight. We are too vulnerable- too raw." He swallowed down the lump that began to form in his throat before continuing. "Get Kwayne on the phone and instruct him to shadow Rochelle and Alisa like a predator with its prey; no harm should come to them either. For now, we can sit out the first hours of surgery, and then take action tomorrow, when we better know the outcome."
✽✽✽
Eighteen hours later, as sleep began to draw Carter from the dozens of cups of coffee, the chief surgeon walked towards the group of four: Tyler fully alert, whilst Morris and Martin were out cold. The doctor grimaced as Carter rose to his impenetrable height. They both knew that something terrible, or lifesaving, must have happened if the eight-hour surgery had stretched to eighteen.
"The king pulled through and is heading to recovery."
Tyler's hoot of joy awakened the twins, just as relief eased the tension from his shoulders.
"Th
ere are some things which must be discussed though," the man said gently, and Carter nodded in agreement.
Chapter Sixteen
“I love threats. They make great quotes. Is that recorder working…?”
—Jayne Ann Krentz
Two and a half months later…
ROCHELLE DREW A BREATH AND straightened in her chair, her eyes roving the room; twenty-four new ladies and gentlemen. The Hummingbird Club was getting larger by the year. These individuals had to be good, very good, to get here. HC was now global, the resources unlimited, thus they had to have pleased some very influential individuals in order to be recommended to HC, much more to become a full-fledged member. HC had once been known to cater to their clients’ every whim, from a dinner partner, to a sex buddy, as long as they could afford the rate. But for the past six years, Rochelle had begun steering the company into a different direction. It was now a full clothing label, with above board dealings, and she wanted it to remain that way.
Large, playful, ice-blue eyes, danced with hers, and she clenched her teeth, mentally placing her under her care before scanning the room once more, meeting a new pair of eyes. Scared brown eyes met her hazel ones and she cringed. Though HC boasts an immaculate clientele-known well by their individual dossier- lately the clients seem to be trying to reconvert the company to its escort days. Many of the employees tend to find their advances uncomfortable, which she tried vehemently to protect her ladies and men from.
Raising a well-manicured hand, she dismissed the group, wishing them all the best for the quarter ahead. Right now, she had a million things on her mind that needed sorting, the least of all, Carter, whom she hadn’t heard from in nearly three months since she’d fled New York. She didn’t even know why she expected him to want to see her after running out, but her stupid mind and body had held onto the promises, which he’d made in the dead of night.
“Ms. Jones?”
Rochelle looked up, grateful to be dragged firmly to the present, and she acknowledged Jaime with a small smile.
From A Harlot To A Princess Page 16