Royce

by D. Hamilton-Reed

  “So cold, so cold,” they ran shivering their skin raised in goose bumps and pulled the cover up high. “I’ll warm you,” Amar said rubbing her arms and then he pulled her to him, “I’ll hold you, maybe that’ll be faster,” and he kissed her forehead and then he went further, kissing her cheeks and she put her arms around him. He let the towel fall from her hair and her mass of curls fell free and he saw his Lindsey, “Oh Lindsey,” he went for her lips and kissed her. Their naked bodies warming up and Amar felt a stirring in his groin, and Lindsey felt it in her belly and in her heart; she’d missed him so much. Amar felt his heart warming, and the ice he’d had around it melting; he’d been holding everything in for so long.

  He kissed her and she kissed him back. He began to touch her and she him, he went down and took her nipple in his mouth and she moaned out and so did he, and before long his male part responded as it should and he knew what to do. He lay on top of her and she knew too, she spread her legs, he felt for the thing he wanted and found the spot he knew he wanted and pushed, and pushed.

  Lindsey held on and he broke through, “Amar!” She cried out. “Did I hurt you Lindsey?” He asked concerned, “No Amar, I want you too,” she said looking at him ready and wanting to be loved, and he pushed and moved his hips and he made love to Lindsey.

  When they were spent he lay next to her and couldn’t stop kissing her, “I love you Lindsey, I love you, I came here to find you and I’m so happy I did,” he said holding her. “I love you too Amar and I missed you so much,” and Lindsey knew she hadn’t realized how much she missed Amar until she saw him standing there, and her soul soared at the sight of him and they lay there and talked. He held her soft hair in his hands, “I love your hair like this,” and they told each other of their lives, and when he said his father was killed, “Oh no Amar, when?” “That’s why I left.” “Oh my god Amar I didn’t know,” “I know, I didn’t get a chance to say good bye to you,” and he knew that had been the most painful thing he’d endured, not letting her know what happened to him.

  “I know I didn’t get to say goodbye to you either, we moved to Italy,” and neither knew they’d left South Africa the same day. “Is that where you met Fabio?” He asked, after what they’d done he hoped she’d break up with Fabio now, after all she let him have her first that says a lot. “No, I met him on the plane. We thought it’d be nice to know someone on campus.” “So he’s not your boyfriend?” “No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” she looked down, “Do you have a girlfriend?” She asked shyly. They had come here to talk and now they’d done something else and she realized she didn’t know anything about Amar. “I hope I do now, I hope you’ll be my girlfriend,” and he saw the brightest smile on her face and he pulled her to him and kissed her, kissed her deeply and before they knew it they were doing it again.

  “Oh Lindsey I will never get tired of doing that,” he said holding her afterwards, she giggled and just then they heard a key in the door. “Wait a minute Steven!” Amar shouted but his roommate was already opening the door. “Oh my god,” Lindsey said and pulled the cover up. Steven saw them and froze, “You got a girl already mate? Well done, well done,” and Lindsey was mortified. “Can you excuse yourself and wait outside for a moment?” Amar asked. “Oh yeah, sorry mate.” “Let’s get dressed and get out of here!” Amar said happily.

  His roommate was standing outside waiting when they left and he looked long at Lindsey and she covered her face, “Wow mate, you did good she’s pretty,” and he gave Amar the thumbs up. “I know, thanks,” Amar said and took Lindsey’s hand from her face, “Don’t be ashamed of our love Lindsey, I’m not,” he said holding her. His father had tried to make him ashamed of loving her, saying she wasn’t good enough and that didn’t stop him from feeling the way he did and he never wanted to deny he loved her again.

  That night Lindsey called her mother, “Mom, he’s here! Amar is here!” “Oh my god Lindsey that’s wonderful! How did you find him?” “Can you believe it we were just walking on campus and he was there, just there! Oh mom it was so beautiful, he’s so handsome, he’s grown up and he looks so good,” and Joy could hear her excitement. Royce listened to Joy’s end of the conversation and so did Jameson, “Oh no, what happened?” Royce heard Joy exclaim, her hand over her heart, and after they hung up.

  “Don’t tell me is she with someone already?” Joy looked to be in shock, “Amar,” and Royce’s mouth dropped too, “You mean he’s at Cambridge?” “Yes, he’s there and Lindsey is beside herself,” and Joy pretended to swoon, “He’s so beautiful, so handsome,” she said swaying back and forth her hand on her forehead. Royce chuckled. “And oh get this, Amar’s father was killed,” and Royce had to act shocked, “No! Really! What happened?” “Amar thinks it was a bad business deal or something but they never found out, but he moved to Saudi Arabia right after it happened.”

  Jameson listened and on the one hand he was happy, happy for Lindsey, and now he knew all this time he’d been worried about her she’d been in love, and on the other she was like a daughter and now he was worried all over again.

  Royce had been entering Joy’s Fury in races and he lost race after race until he figured out he needed to let him win against No Mercy and Windstar, those two horses were true race horses they wanted to win and right after Lindsey settled into college life he won his first race at Capannelle in Rome and because of the odds he won a big purse. “Wow! Wow! He won! He won!” Royce yelled excitedly over the phone to Joy. “Oh my god Royce, he won!” Either Jameson or Conrad would attend the races with him and it turned out to be something they both enjoyed. Conrad always came back excited and put in his own bets and Jameson often reminded him, “You do remember why you’re there, to protect Mr. Harrington,” and Conrad would look sheepish, and Jameson understood, they knew Gibeau was still searching, he was scouring the continent of Africa, the last they heard he was in Tanzania.

  Two weeks later Joy’s Fury won by two lengths at Agnano and he kept winning all over Italy, at La Torricella in Capalbio, Cascine in Firenze, Maia Bassa in Merano, San Rossore in Pisa, Dei Fiori in Villanova D’Albenga, Siro in Milan and Royce was making big money and pretty soon a man by the name of Benito Ignazio came calling. “Ah Signore Fennini, I am pleased to meet you,” and Royce was nervous. This man showed up unannounced in a very expensive car with a driver, and the last rich man he met with a driver he killed on his way to the airport, so this could be anything.

  “Signore Fennini I would like to make a proposition with you, can we talk business?” “That depends, what business are we talking about?” And Jameson stood off to the side watching, “Horse business, I would like to buy Joy’s Fury and offer you a job signore,” and Royce’s eyebrows went up, “Si signore…You see I need a man to train my horses or find good horses and I spoke with your jockey, a Signore Gustave and he advised me that Joy’s Fury is all your doing, all your investment, the finding, the training, so I know you have a good eye signore.” “I’m flattered Signore Ignazio, but I must decline, I work alone…How can I say this is a pleasure for me. I love what I do, I hope you can understand that,” Royce said as politely as possible. Signore Ignazio nodded and said, “I am a very persuasive man Signore Fennini, we will talk again.” Royce smiled and escorted him to the door thinking, I’ve said my piece now go.

  True to his word Benito Ignazio did come after Royce, the next week a case of very expensive wine was delivered with a note, “From my vineyard, I will invite you up next time, but for now enjoy the fruits of my labor,” and Royce laughed, but they enjoyed the wine and Jameson worried. It was summer now and beautiful outside, the field of wildflowers was turning into grass and Joy’s Fury’s track wound visibly around it. The horse was a winner but when he was at home he was just a horse, he loved to frolic and roll around in the field with the other horses. Jameson laughed at him many a day when he looked out over the field. Royce and Autumn were always out there, she loved to race Daisy Star Shine and he’d see her galloping around Joy’s Fury
track.

  But Benito Ignazio was relentless in his pursuit, he wanted Royce and Royce refused him time and time again, and he tried everything and Royce still refused and he was furious and did some snooping around and he found three Roberto Fennini’s in Italy and none of them were the dark haired blued eyed man he’d come to know, but he did stumble on some other information and made a call to a man named Gibeau, and after mentioning the name of a horse.

  It had rained three days straight and Royce was stuck inside and couldn’t train Joy’s Fury and he looked outside and a man was standing at the door. He rang the bell and Natalia answered, “I have a letter here for Mr. Roberto Fennini and I’m instructed to wait for a reply.” Royce came to the door and the man handed him the letter, “Are you Roberto Fennini?” Royce looked at him, he was an ordinary man dressed in a courier’s uniform, and the van he drove had the courier service painted in bold graphics and the letter he was holding looked official. He didn’t answer, “I’m instructed to wait for a reply,” the man said. “Wait here,” he closed the door. He opened the letter and read it and his heart nearly burst at the shock, “Jameson! Joy! Joy! Jameson! Joy!” He yelled and he had to steady himself on the sofa, “Oh god no!” Jameson and Joy came running in at his cries and he handed the letter to Joy,

  Royce son,

  I want to tell you how sorry I am for everything I’ve done the past years. Please forgive me, please come home. I love you son, I love you. I’m not well and I want to see you and your family and make my apologies to you, to all of you. I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused you and your family, I realize that now. I have been a fool, please forgive me and come home son, come home.

  Your father,

  Walker,

  Joy covered her mouth in stunned disbelief and handed the letter to Jameson. “Fuck!” Jameson said as he read it, “He made us, he made us!” Royce was beside himself and Joy went to him. “The man outside is waiting for a reply. I don’t know what to do, is it real or…, I don’t know what to think,” he was scared and hopeful, if it was real this was over, if not his father was being cruel, and if his father was being cruel he would never recover.

  Jameson went to the door his gun at the small of his back and opened the door. He was the only protection at the house. Conrad was in the village. After they’d discovered Justin kissing in abandoned houses he’d made Conrad tail him, he couldn’t wait for him. He saw the man waiting and the courier truck, the guy was playing it cool that’s for sure. “What form of reply is requested?” He was waiting for the gun to appear, but the man said, “Written signore,” and Jameson closed the door, and seeing that Royce was visibly upset he found a pen and paper, “We will reply Mr. Harrington, we don’t know what this is, but we will play this game if it is a game,” and Royce looked at him and Jameson could see the torment, “Can you write sir?” Royce nodded, he handed him the pen and paper. “Tell him you are sorry all this happened and you are glad it’s over and you will return home as soon as you can.”

  Royce wrote that and signed it and Jameson put the letter in an envelope and handed it to the courier, who walked briskly to his truck and drove away and when he was out the arched entry. “Let’s get moving! They made us! We don’t know whose coming next!” By nightfall they were gone.

  Jameson used the old passports and it was much easier and because Royce was so shaken he seated them together. This time Royce was the one laying his head on Joy and she stroked and soothed him the whole flight and Jameson pursed his lips. He’d left Conrad as he promised to sell the horses and Mr. Harrington did come out of his sadness to tell him what price he should get as he rubbed and hugged each horse, “And give Joy’s Fury to Gustave, he’ll take care of him.” This time it was the five of them, Royce, Joy, Justin, Christopher and Autumn. Justin sat there with his soccer ball and to Jameson it seemed not fazed by any of this and Jameson’s heart went out to him, he’s use to it, he’s use to packing up at the spur of the moment and leaving your old life behind, and his heart ached, no child should live like this, and he pursed his lips. They arrived at Orly Airport in northern France and drove to Chatillon another little village Jameson knew of.

  They’d only lived in France a few months and hardly had time to adapt to French country life when Jameson got an urgent call from Reggie and Royce had a message in the memo section that made his blood drain. He came home from the bank frantic and went straight to Jameson.

  Bobby's message read, “Big Chief, big bird in clouds in the sky…,” and he knew what it was referring too.

  When they were at Tech they’d had to take a literature class and had studied a poetry section and had to read a poem by an unknown Native American author and it had been an epic poem, long and laborious to read. It was about a battle they’d lost to the American Army in 1806 and in one verse it said, “Big Chief, big bird in clouds in the sky, he is free to soar among the mountains, the shores and cry. Above his homeland for it is no more…,” and Bobby who hated flowery language was frustrated and said, “It took me ten minutes to read that poem, ten minutes of my life I can’t get back. Ten minutes to tell me they lost the battle and his father is dead. It would have saved me nine minutes and fifty-nine point nine-nine seconds if he’d just said, we lost, my father died,” and at the time he’d cracked up. He wasn’t into flowery language either; he was a straight to the point kind of guy, but now he read the memo and he knew his father was dead.

  He went to Jameson, “Hey I need you to check something out and make sure it is accurate, and Jameson said, “Sir I will do that, but first let me tell you the news I have. My partner in Texas just called and said your father has passed,” and Royce crumpled in the chair, “Is this over Jameson? How do we know, how can we be sure?” Jameson went to him and pat him on the shoulder, “I will verify and re-verify before we make a move sir,” and he saw the relief and also saw the strain.

  Royce went straight to Joy and grabbed her and scooped her up in his arms. He led her to their room and took her in his arms again the emotion of how he felt hitting him and his eyes filled with tears, “My father is dead Joy, my father is dead,” and Joy didn’t know if his emotion was sadness or happiness, “Oh Royce, oh Royce baby, what do we do? What does it mean?” And he didn’t release her, he held on tight, his arms around her, “I don’t know, I have Jameson checking it out. He didn’t realize freedom was such a powerful thing, it felt like a weight had been lifted and now he knew why those who didn’t have it fought so hard for it. He felt free, Joy was free, Joy was safe, at least he hoped that’s what Jameson would find out. He hoped his father hadn’t died and left this in place until it was done.

  Jameson had Reggie check on his end, “Make sure this is over, we cannot reappear and find ourselves in the midst of gunfire,” he told him. Conrad was in England, he’d sent him to check on Lindsey after he overheard her telling her mother she’d moved off campus. He called him, “Conrad, is everything alright with Lindsey?” “Yes, perfect sir, very nice place, nice part of town. She’s living with Amar and I feel good about that, she’s not alone sir.” “Good, I need you to stay out, put your ear to the ground all over Europe if you have too. Walker Sr. has died and we need to make sure the hit died with him.”

  And after a couple of months of checking and rechecking and Gibeau had flown back to America it appeared the case had gone cold, no one was looking for them. It seemed when Walker Sr. died so did the well, and Jameson went to Royce, “It’s clear, everywhere is cold, all movement has ceased,” and he saw Royce breathe a sigh of relief, “I want to go home Jameson, can you set that up?”

  And using their fake passports for the last time Royce, Joy, Justin, Christopher and Autumn were stepping foot in the United States for the first time in nearly ten years.

  CHAPTER 17, HOME!

  It was 2013, and they’d been on the run for ten years and were heading home. They knew America had changed, there was an African American president in office for his second term. They’d known that, like the rest of
the world in 2008 they’d waited for the election results with bated breath wondering what the American people would decide, but since they lived in another country with its own politics and issues the focus on American politics was short. They were in South Africa then and once it was done they moved on like the rest of the country.

  Joy called her mother just before they left DeGaulle Airport in Paris, “Momma I’m coming home,” her mother burst into tears, “Joy! Oh Joy! You’re safe! You’re alive and safe!” She cried too, “Yes momma, we’ll be there tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure you and daddy were home,” she said wiping tears, “We’re home baby, we’re home and we can’t wait to see you,” her mother said. “Let me talk to her,” she heard her father say happily, “Joy honey,” “Yes daddy,” “Oh my word, oh my word! Joy it’s so good to hear your voice, so good, your momma say you’re coming home?” “Yes daddy, we’ll be there tomorrow.” “Oh baby that’s so wonderful,” and she could tell he was crying and she cried more, “Don’t cry daddy, you’re making me cry, we’ll see you soon okay,” and they hung up, and Royce called no one.

  Even though Jameson said it was safe he wanted to get home first and get a feel for himself and he still felt protective and he hated he had to check his gun in his suitcase. His body felt empty without it, every since South Africa he’d worn one and now it was locked in his suitcase under the plane. Jameson didn’t care if they acted as if knew each other on this flight, even he could see they were a family, so he changed their passports. They were all Henry’s on this flight and he booked them together in one row. He even sat in the same row since this was going to be the last time he’d see them. Once they hit Philadelphia he was heading on to Dallas. The case was over and he knew he was going to miss them, miss them a lot.