Royally Duched Up: (Duched #3)

by Xavier Neal

  When I finally arrive outside the doors of the glass building, I’m equally relieved and irate to see Guy sitting alone in the lobby.

  Chances are if he’s here than so is she…Fuck. You have no idea how much I hate that that’s the case nowadays.

  I swing the door wide open, prepared to rip him a new one for not calling, not communicating about my wife, when the woman behind the front desk, clears her throat in warning.

  Guy turns his face towards mine. He doesn’t bother smiling or entertaining me with kindness in his greeting. “Kellan.”

  My shaking hand runs through my hair. “Can I have a word with you? Outside?”

  He gives me a curt nod, stands, and puts the book he was reading in his seat as a place holder.

  Can you see the title? Is it 101 ways to steal someone’s wife from right under their nose? Probably not a catchy title but I’m sure that’s beside the point.

  On a sharp spin, I exit the building with Guy just a step behind me.

  The instant we’re both on the sidewalk I do something unexpected to both of us. My hands grab him by the collar of his baby blue polo shirt and thrust him backwards against the brick wall. “What the hell is your problem?!” He starts to speak when I push him against the wall again. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

  He gives my body a good shove away in return, which prompts Vincent to step forward. I lift my hand for him to stand down at the same time Guy replies, “Supporting my friend. The very thing you should be here doing.”

  His words taste so sour I can barely stomach it.

  I know I should fucking be here! I don’t need him of all people to remind me of that.

  “Well, I’m here now,” I state firmly.

  “Late. As is your only ability it seems.”

  Unfortunately I can’t even argue with him.

  “You can go.”

  Guy gives me a belittling chuckle. “You think that’s how this works? You think that’s what I am? Your…place saver?”

  The combination of his tone and defensive stature curl my fist unconsciously.

  “You are highly mistaken.” He tips his head a little higher. “Besides, even if that’s all Brie believed I was, let’s be honest, I still wouldn’t leave because chances are your phone is going to ring with a call from Felicity like it always does and you’re going to go running.”

  His implication stifles my breathing.

  “It’s the same story every bloody week, Kellan. Your wife needs you, but your ex gets you. How is that right? How is that fair? And on the record as well, I couldn’t be your place saver for several reason, with the most important being because I’m better than you. I actually give a damn about Brie. I’m not just some bloody prick who only seems capable of making time for his wife when he needs to get his rocks off.”

  My fist lands on his nose with the force of a freight train. Guy’s head bobs backwards bumping into the brick wall.

  “Kellan!” Brie’s voice shrilly squeaks as she rushes over to the situation. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

  “He needs to stay the hell away from you!”

  She brushes past me straight to him.

  “I mean it!”

  Her hand winds through the back of his hair at the same time she gently examines his face. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “No!” I shout louder, well aware of the crowd we’ve drawn, but too wound up to care. “He is! He’s been after you since day 1!”

  “No he hasn’t,” she calmly shuts me down and softly says something to him.

  “Yes he has!”

  Her displeased expression finally meets mine. “No he hasn’t!”

  “Yes-”

  “He’s gay!” She screams loud enough it stumbles me backwards.

  No….No. Absolutely not. You’ve seen the way he looks at her! You heard what he said to me! He can’t be gay! I didn’t get this…wrong…It’s a lie! A bloody lie!

  “He’s not gay!”

  “He sure the hell is!”

  “It’s a lie!”

  “He has a fucking boyfriend!”

  “And now that that’s ringing from chapels, do you mind if we move this conversation to the hospital?” Guy says, blood dripping profusely down his neck. “I’m fairly certain my nose is broken.”

  “Of course! Oh my God, of course!” Brie quickly insists. “Isn’t the hospital just a block up?”

  “Yes.”

  Her arm moves to help guide him that direction when my hand wraps around hers. “You’re not leaving with him, Brie! He’s not the man you married!”

  She snatches herself away from me. “Yeah, well, neither are you.”

  My mouth hits the pavement and my knees wobble.

  I motion to follow them when Vincent’s large palm prevents the action. “With all due respect, sir, it might be a better decision for your safety and her sanity to let her walk away at this time.”

  “My safety?” I bark.

  He roams his eyes around the sizeable crowd that now have their phones out, snapping photos, recording videos, and documenting what is easily the worst day of my life. Seeing his valid point, I nod, and wave a hand for him to get us the hell away from here.

  I….I…I can’t right now. I can’t deal with this. Or them. Or you. None of it.

  Brie

  Guy hits me with a smile as he takes the bowl I’m offering him. “Thank you.”

  “Really, don’t thank me,” I grumble, sitting down on the edge of his long wooden coffee table. “I’m the whole reason your face looks like that.”

  He shrugs. “Thankfully, I no longer financially rely on my face.”

  His attempt at lightening the situation isn’t missed.

  Even you smiled a little.

  “And technically, you aren’t the one who punched me in the face. Your husband did.” Guy shovels a bite of banana frozen yogurt into his mouth. “Thought you said he used to play lacrosse, not that he was a boxer.”

  I cross my legs. “He wasn’t.”

  “Explain that to my throbbing nose.”

  “Are the pain killers not strong enough?”

  He leans his back against the gray couch pillows. “Not sure they’ve kicked in yet.”

  My face falls and so do my eyes.

  Cannot believe he hit him in the face! What? No. Don’t do that! Don’t take Kellan’s side on this one. I haven’t backhanded Beach Bimbo Barbie in spite of her numerous aggravations, so he damn sure shouldn’t have swung at an innocent person like Guy. We’re all adults. You don’t get to hit someone any more for trying to ‘steal’ your best friend or girlfriend or in this case wife. Which he wasn’t. You can’t steal a person who isn’t willing to go…Well, in this aspect. We’re not talking about Taken or anything. You ever wonder why they just wouldn’t leave Liam Neeson alone after that first movie?

  After swallowing another bite, Guy gives my leg a light kick to look up. “Are you alright?”

  I give him a sarcastic expression. “I’m not the one who’s wearing the baby of Freddy Krueger and Michael Myers on my face.”

  He groans at the comparison. “That’s a horrifying image.”

  “So is what they did to your face.”

  “You heard the doctor. This is best alternative to surgery. If I have to look like a mutant villain for a couple weeks, then fine. Beats the hell out of going under.”

  Basically his ultimate fear after an aunt of his had a poor response to the anesthesia. Like almost didn’t wake up…

  “Seriously, though.” He stirs the treat around the bowl, creating the whipped consistency he prefers. “Are you alright? Those were…harsh words you threw at him.”

  I glare. “So now you’re on his side?”

  His head bobs back and forth for a moment.

  “Seriously!? After all he’s put me through lately? After all the shit he said to you!?”

  “Now wait a minute,” he wedges the bowl between his legs, “I didn’t say I was, but I can’t actu
ally sit here and tell you I’m on yours either.”

  The rebuttal drops my jaw.

  “You know, above anyone else, I completely understand where you’re coming from. How locked out you feel at times. How ignored. How alienated. How sometimes you fear you will never be more than something for Kellan than a convenience.”

  Hearing him line out my insecurities picks it back up and tightens it.

  “But…I understand the irrational response to feeling like the center of your universe is being threatened. How everyone is the enemy. How you hit first and realize what an arsehole you were later. I’m not sitting here trying to play devil’s advocate. I swear. I’m simply saying, I’ve been on both sides of this situation. You’re both justified in your anger. And…truth be told I might’ve purposely pushed him past his breaking point.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Meaning?”

  Guy sheepishly looks down at his bowl of ice cream. “I…may or may not have crossed a line to rile him up.”

  It’s my turn to nudge him with my foot to recapture his attention. When his eyes meet mine, I lift my eyebrows in question.

  “Okay, so I was a bit angry at him for standing you up like he did this morning. I mean, today of all bloody days, was the day you truly needed him. Not me. Not Kris or Soph or your father, but him. Your bloody spouse. I just…I kept seeing that vision of you trying not to cry in my car and snapped. Probably a little hard. But he needed to hear it. I didn’t think he’d haul off and hit me.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed that either. He’s definitely always been more of a mouthy asshole than a physical one.”

  Silence nestles between us and I divert my attention out the large glass window behind him. The view of downtown from his apartment differs tremendously from the one I’ve become a major fan of. While his place has three large windows behind the long gray sofa and three more across from the main area of the kitchen, they only capture one very specific view, neighboring high priced apartments and trendy food shops down at the bottom. Our penthouse allows me to view what feels like the entire city and the breathtaking view of the river in the distance. It’s an awe inspiring vision first thing in the morning when the sun is bringing to life an entire world you’re still barely learning to be in. The fact I get to do it from the pinnacle is humbling.

  You know, when my husband isn’t convincing me it’s early enough to not get caught by cameras.

  The sound of a door opening diverts my attention over my shoulder to the hallway that connects to the entryway.

  Stephen rounds the corner, texting on his phone. “Darling, you home?”

  Isn’t it weird they look like they could be Celebrity Weekly twins? The blonde and the brunette version of the same person?! I didn’t believe that whole couples who spend too much time together start to look alike thing until I met them. In fairness, they have a couple distinct differences like Stephen’s light facial hair and Guy’s slightly smaller stature. But they look close enough to ask the creepy question are you boning your cousin?

  Guy doesn’t bother retorting. He simply stuffs another bite into his mouth and waits to be properly greeted.

  We share many similarities I haven’t mentioned in major detail…

  Finally, his boyfriend looks up and the look of concern on his face is faith reaffirming.

  He may take a bit of reminding that there is life off of his phone, but when it comes to Guy’s safety, sanity, or security, his entire world seems to always stop. Last week I watched him spend twenty-five minutes comparing the most effective ways to nurse a burn after Guy accidently touched a scalding pot. Once he decided on the best, I was put in charge of stirring while he tenderly treated his lover. They’re very good together…When they get to be together.

  “What the bloody hell happened to you?” He says in a barely audible voice as he rushes across the room.

  “I’m fine,” Guy insists at the same time Stephen plops down.

  “You are not fine. You have a bandage the size of Westburg on your face!”

  One of the largest territories in this country. Yeah. Fun fact to learn for the test I am praying to death I didn’t bomb. I was so flustered with frustration over Kellan’s disappearance, then lack of communicating his whereabouts and his return that I had a bit of a hard time focusing. Ugh. And the test itself? Imagine all your exit finals being merged together to create one mega final. Done? Now multiply that by fifty. One thing’s for sure. They don’t just let anybody be a teacher in this country.

  “I’m fine…”

  “What happened?”

  Guy cuts me a glance, which Stephen immediately sees.

  Stephen’s eyebrow dart down. “Did you do this? Did you sock him for something stupid he said?”

  “Well I didn’t…”

  His befuddled expression returns.

  Guy offers me his empty bowl to place down on the table. “Her lovely husband hit me.”

  “Why on earth would he do that?!”

  My friend hesitates his confession. “I…provoked him.”

  “You provoked one of the princes of our country to punch you in the face?” Stephen swings his eyes to me and I surrender my hands in innocence. He returns his stern expression to his boyfriend. “Why? How? Do I need to risk my freedom during an attempt to retaliate?” His palm lands on Guy’s face and he angles it his direction. “And most importantly are you really alright?”

  Guy places a short kiss on his lips. “I truly am. We went to the hospital. The physician got it examined. It’s broken, but the splint and pain killers will handle the major damage that was caused. You do not need to worry nor do you need to consult online readings on how to handle it. It’s been properly handled.”

  Stephen nods slowly and resumes examining the handy work. “And as for why you were hit? And do I need to hit back?”

  “No. There’s no need for that.” He gives me a short glance before informing us both, “I called him a prick.”

  “What!?” We snap in unison.

  “He deserved it!” Guy rushes to justify. “He was being a prick. First for standing Brie up then for slamming me into a wall for being a supportive friend and lastly for accusing me of trying to take his wife away from him.”

  Stephen pinches the bridge of his own nose as he collects his thoughts.

  “Wait. He slammed you into a wall first?”

  Guy reluctantly nods.

  Did you know about this? When did my husband turn into the Incredible Hulk?

  There’s a giant huff out of Stephen. He drapes one arm around the back of the sofa and directs his question at his boyfriend. “Why would he accuse you of that?”

  “He wasn’t aware I was gay. Though he is now…”

  “Sorry again,” I sheepishly whisper.

  “How did he not know?”

  “Maybe because I forgot to dip myself in glitter today and ring my rainbow bell.”

  The sarcastic remark causes Stephen to roll his eyes.

  Guy’s not ‘in the closet’ as many would try to label. He’s just more private in regards to his love life than you would expect. While he’s open and honest about his entire life, from his love of French films to his severe disgust with educational systems in other countries, he prefers his true personal life to remain that way. To keep the matters of his heart exactly there. Hell, the apartment may be filled with pictures of the two of them but he isn’t flaunting it anywhere else. No social media. Not even a background on his phone. He’s just one of those people who believe his romantic relationship is his and his to discuss with only those of his trusted choosing. My shouting it crossed a line. He let me have an ear full about it while we were waiting to see the doctor.

  “He also wasn’t aware I was seeing anyone. Perhaps that’s because my boyfriend can hardly break himself away from work long enough for me to plan a possible dinner for the four of us.”

  Stephen grouses, “You really want to do this now? In front of Brie?”

  “Why not?�
�� Guy shrugs. “She’s in the same boat.”

  I am…most of the time.

  “Look what happened when it all bubbled to the surface after ignoring it.” He points to his nose. “I’m not saying she’s going to pop you in the mouth, but be careful. I believe she probably packs some punch especially with her ring hand.” Guy makes an attempt to lighten the situation. “Come on. You’ve seen the thing. You know how it hypnotizes you if you stare too long.”