Royally Duched Up: (Duched #3)

by Xavier Neal

  The three of us share a small laugh. “It’s not that big.”

  “Trust me,” Stephen sighs, “as a man who spends a ridiculous amount of time appraising items. Yes. It really is that big. And expensive.” He gives his boyfriend a sweet look. “We will discuss my schedule and a shared date with the Kenningstons later. In private. I promise. As for now how about I order the three of us some take out from the Mexican restaurant around the corner?”

  “Extra cheese,” we croak together.

  “You two are like bloody twins,” he grunts and places a kiss on Guy’s cheek.

  Once he saunters away to the right for the kitchen, Guy stretches his legs out across the couch. “You’re welcome to stay here for however long you need, but you do know you are eventually going to have to go home.” I open my mouth and he adds, “And I don’t mean your place in the states, Brie.”

  Folding my arms across my chest, I grump. “I know…”

  “Look, I understand you’re not in the mood to discuss Kellan or his latest actions, but can I make a suggestion?”

  I give him a nod to continue.

  “While I am truly hoping your words earlier were just spoken out of anger and not actual belief, I can’t help but feel you’re at a crossroads with your marriage. There’s an exercise I do in every relationship that has been rather beneficial. I have a friend in Canada who is a relationship counselor. He has his patients, or clients if you prefer to call them, do this upon their first session and again after their six weeks of participation is up. You take a piece of paper and fold it into thirds to create three columns. The titles are ‘Love’, ‘The Tolerable’ and ‘Hate.’ You sit alone, in a quiet space, for at least thirty minutes and think over your entire relationship. You place everything underneath the appropriate category. At the end of the exercise if the hate outweighs the rest, it’s time to walk away. If it’s love then you need to confront him and push forward.”

  “And if it’s just tolerable?”

  “Then you have to answer a question only you can. Is there enough love in your heart to continue to try to make things work or have you finally had enough?”

  My bottom lip tucks itself between my teeth.

  Would you honestly blame me if I have? How much is one person supposed to tolerate before it’s too much?

  Kellan

  My eyes shoot open at the sound of the thud landing in front of me.

  God that’s loud…

  “A hate crime, Kellan?!” My father’s fuming voice reverberates around the dining room.

  I focus my attention on the newspaper making the claim. Thankfully it’s a trash tabloid as opposed to an actual paper with credibility. “It wasn’t a hate crime…”

  “Then explain to me why blogs around the world are saying it was.”

  Great. That means I’m probably trending. My failing marriage is the discussion topic over breakfast or brunch or those enjoying a midnight snack. Fantastic…Wanna know what makes it all so much worse? I can’t stop her final words to me from looping in surround sound in my head.

  “Saying what?” Kristopher questions entering the area with Keegan in his arms.

  “That apparently your brother is homophobic.”

  “I am not homophobic.”

  “Your wardrobe alone tells the entire world that,” my brother jokes redirecting my eyes to his.

  “Be grateful my nephew is acting like a shield right now.”

  “Touchy. Touchy,” Soph hums, sauntering into the room.

  It is crazy she doesn’t even look like she had a child. Don’t try to tell her that though. She will put you through the ringer while drawing you a map of the areas that are now a testament to her newfound motherhood.

  “Kellan,” my father’s voice hardens. “Did you hit a gay man?”

  I let out a heavy sigh and shove the paper away. “Yes-”

  “Kellan!” They screech together.

  “But not because he was gay!”

  “Then why?” My father growls.

  “Because he told me what a shitty husband I was and called me a prick.”

  Two very true facts I did not need outlined for me yesterday.

  “And it wasn’t just some random person like the paper and blogs are trying to imply. It was Guy.”

  “You hit Guy?” Soph snaps at the same time breakfast is placed down in front of her and my brother.

  “He deserved it.”

  “For telling the truth?” She counters.

  Her question churns the self-hatred I’m already harvesting in the bottom of my stomach. My face falls into the palm of my hand and I use my fingers to rub my throbbing temple.

  “Is this why Brie’s not at breakfast?” My father invades the conversation. “Because you hit her friend?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Or is it something else?”

  My silence remains.

  “Kellan,” he pushes.

  “I do not wish to discuss it.”

  “I do not honestly care.” His retort lifts my eyes to his at the head of the table. “You’re clearly going through something and the last thing this family needs is one of your out of control tantrum’s ruining our currently loved reputation.”

  And you wonder why business first is branded into my brain…

  “The country is happy to see us happy. I prefer to see my sons happy. Plus, my grandson should have the opportunity to be brought up in the loving environment he deserves, which is not a possibility if his uncle is terrorizing the streets of our city.”

  My phone buzzes in my pocket as I grunt, “High exaggeration.”

  His eyebrows lift. “You broke his nose.”

  “You broke his nose?” Soph echoes with sourness in her tone.

  “Why am I feeling like this family loves him more than me?”

  “Could you blame us?” Kris jokes between a bite of grapefruit.

  “That’s not fucking funny!” I shout.

  My outburst startles everyone, myself included.

  Okay. Maybe I’m a little grouchy. I didn’t sleep last night. At. All. Brie didn’t call or text nor did she answer my calls or texts. The only reason I even know she was safe at Guy’s last night is because she turned on her phone allowing it to be momentarily traced. I haven’t even bothered changing my clothes…I can’t seem to muster the energy.

  “My office.” Father stands to his feet. “Now.”

  I give my face a quick scrub before following him out of the room like a child awaiting a pending punishment.

  Isn’t my wife not coming home to me enough?

  Once I’ve crossed the threshold into the area, he commands, “Shut the door.”

  I do and lean my back against it. “Sorry for my behavior at breakfast…”

  He leans against the edge of his desk. “I said I prefer to see my sons happy. You are far from it. Why?”

  My phone vibrates again in my pocket and I make the motion to retrieve it.

  “Do not answer that phone.”

  His demand is met.

  “Is that the actual reason your wife is not with us for breakfast this morning? She had finally had enough of playing second to your phone?”

  “It’s work.”

  “It’s always bloody work,” he bites to my surprise.

  “It needs me.”

  “She needs you.”

  The lecture I’m sure I need, but do not want causes me to give the back of my neck a rub.

  All of a sudden my father says something I’m not expecting. “You need to pay your uncle Trenton a visit today.”

  “I’m needed at the office.”

  “Reschedule.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Can’t,” I huff tired of people asking me that question. “They found bones at one of the digging sites and today the results are being read.”

  “After you get them, go see your uncle Trenton.”

  “Father-”

  “I am no longe
r asking. I’m demanding. You have an hour to wrap up your affairs at work and then you are to be at the landing strip for takeoff. And if you dare test me, like you’re always itching to, do not be surprised when there is a security detail to physically remove you from your office. Understand?”

  My phone vibrates in my pocket once more. “Understood.”

  He gives me a wave of dismissal, and I make myself scarce.

  No clue why he’s sending me there. Maybe he thinks the fresh beach air will help me clear my head?

  I have a prompt shower, change out of my sweats and into a suit before leaving the palace for the office. I spend most the drive sending texts to Brie, both playful and apologetic; hoping at least one of them will evoke a response.

  Shortly after my arrival, Felicity enters my office dressed in a provocative red dress and sporting an obnoxious grin.

  Helplessly, I grunt, “Why are you so cheerful?”

  “It’s a beautiful day,” she brushes off as she sits on my couch. “Why wouldn’t I be cheerful?”

  “Perhaps because my passion project is possibly about to suffer significant damage?”

  She tilts her head at me. “Whatever it is we will work through it, Kellan. Together.”

  Yes, I’m well aware of how double sided that sentence sounded.

  There’s a small knock on the open door and a white haired man enters my office. “Morning. I’m Dr. Bobb. I’ve come with your results in regards to the bones that were discovered yesterday.”

  “Please, come in.” I motion my hand for him to have a seat in one of the chairs in front of me. “Sit?”

  “No, thank you,” he denies quickly. “This will be brief.”

  “You’re not Aprille,” Felicity interjects with a hint of displeasure. “Aprille Smith was handling this case.”

  “There was a change. She was called away to assist on something more important.”

  “This is important,” my business partner snips defensively.

  “It’s fine, Felicity. As long as we’re not being left in the dark about their findings, it doesn’t matter who did them.”

  “It’s just I trust her is all,” her voice softens. “I prefer people I know and can rely on for such…delicate matters.”

  “I’m sure Dr. Bobb is more than capable.” I lean back in my seat and nod for him to continue. “You may proceed.”

  “The discovered remains are aged at 70 years old.”

  My entire body tenses.

  Fuck.

  “It is now up to the courts to decide what to do with your space. However, I would like you both to know I noted the unusual state of the remains.”

  “What do you mean unusual?” I quickly question.

  “These bones were…highly preserved. As if…and this may sound odd, but as if someone simply transported a previously buried body and placed it in the hole.”

  “Who the hell would do that?”

  Seriously. How deranged does someone have to be do that?

  “Sounds like sabotage,” Felicity snaps. “First the missing orders, then the lost schedules, and planted bones?! Who would do that to an organization that is determined to make the country better not worse? Who would be so callous to try to ruin this for the children? What would be the purpose? What are they hoping to gain?”

  All honestly valid questions….

  Dr. Bobb’s expression remains stoic. “I cannot answer any of those questions, Miss Malone. However, I have emailed you both a copy of my documented findings and my recommendation for keeping the site shut down the minimum amount of time allowed.”

  Unsure of what else to say, I simply nod and extend my hand for him to shake. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Bobb. It is appreciated.”

  He shakes my hand at the same time Felicity strolls over to the desk.

  She repeats my action once I’m finished. “Yes, thank you.”

  Dr. Bobb exits my office and she shuts the door behind him. With a hopeful expression, she states, “At least he recommended the shortest period possible.”

  “Silver lining,” I mutter under my breath. Disbelief strikes me again. “Who would sabotage Hannah’s Hope? What’s the point?”

  “Jealousy,” she tosses out quickly. “You know how competitors are.”

  “Yes, but there’s no one competing with me on this. There’s no one else building something similar for there to be a rival.”

  Felicity shrugs equally as clueless. “Maybe someone who hates the royal family? Someone who is still angry over your decision to marry someone…different?”

  The idea of this being a blow back from my marriage causes me to groan and slip lower into my seat. “Fantastic…”

  “We should spend the day discussing plans for what we can get done on the rest of the property. I can order us brunch or-”

  “I’m leaving for the day,” I announce on a sigh after checking my watch.

  Her voice seems to strain to remain cheerful. “Attempting to make up with your wife?”

  Rather than give her the information she’s fishing for, I stand, grab my phone, and reply, “Personal matters.” Seeing disgust building in her eyes, pushes me to state, “I think I’m going to have everything shut down until we know further information. Not just about the schedule but if we are indeed being targeted or if these are actually numerous outrageous occurrences. I’ll call in a favor from the royal security team and see if maybe they can find a lead.”

  “That seems…overzealous.”

  “Well, I’m tired of being bloody kicked in the arse every time we start to make real progression.” I massage my scalp in an effort to find momentary relief. “I think…space…and…a general break would be well appreciated by everyone.”

  “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “I think it’s necessary.”

  Felicity forces a grin back onto her face. “You’re the boss. I’ll have memos sent out in the next few hours.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Would you like me to do anything else?” Her tone hints at something more, but I decide to ignore it. “Perhaps provide you with suggestions for ‘I’m Sorry’ gifts?”

  It’s my turn to fake a smile. “No. I’ve got that covered.”

  Well I would if I didn’t think she’d set fire to whatever I had delivered. Ugh. With the way she snapped at me yesterday I wouldn’t put it past her to set fire to the delivery man too for simply doing his job.

  I start to walk by when her hand grabs mine. “Well I’m here if you need to talk…”

  My eyes glance down to where her thumb is affectionately stroking my hand. Guy’s hateful remark pangs my chest as it roots itself deeper into my chest.

  This isn’t right…

  Stepping out of her grip, I don’t say another word. I hastily make my way out of the building and for the waiting vehicle.

  After a long jet ride filled with shots of whiskey and one short car ride filled with nonstop checks of my phone, I’m pulling through the gates of my uncle Trenton’s beach side estate.

  The vehicle pulls around the front to drop me off, but Vincent stays behind. He gives me a nod to inform me he won’t be far if he’s needed.

  He never is. If anything he needs this trip more than I do. He rarely gets to spend time with his brother. Drawback to both of them being security details.

  I let myself in and stroll straight towards the patio area that’s attached to the main downstairs living room. My eyes drink in the marble floors, the white tile accents, and the light blue touches that cross my path.

  The moment I head down the stone steps, my uncle Trenton greets, “Afternoon, nephew!”

  Not at all surprised, he didn’t get up nor even turn away from his view of the water, I sit down on the cushioned lounge chair beside him. “Afternoon, Uncle Trenton.”

  “Want a pint?” He has a sip of his drink. “You look like you could use one.”

  I give him a sigh, “You haven’t even glanced my direction.”