The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(47)
And it was all a lie. His saintly father was fucking his secretary, and then, when she threatened to go public with it, their fight ended with the woman dead at the bottom of a staircase. It didn’t matter that Henry hadn’t pushed her—that she’d lost her footing and fell. The jury didn’t give a fuck. Neither did the media. They saw their chance to take him down—a black man who’d gotten uppity and threatened the status quo that Houston’s elite fought so hard to maintain—and they gleefully took it. All while Frank and his mother were forced to watch as their life was dismantled, piece by piece.
His father had single-handedly ruined their family, and Frank learned an invaluable lesson. The world wanted to see men like him burn for simply being born with a darker tone of skin. One mistake was enough to knock his father off the tightrope he walked, and a lifetime of good deeds didn’t hold water in comparison. The only way to keep himself and the people he cared for safe was to accrue power. To shove his presence in the faces of those who wanted to crush him beneath their boots. To make his existence impossible to ignore. To make him fucking untouchable.
If his father had learned that lesson, he wouldn’t have died in a prison shower.
His mother wouldn’t have spent years fleeing the heartbreak she never got over—right up until it killed her.
“I don’t need anyone to protect me.”
Journey gave him that sad little smile that made his chest ache. “Everyone needs protection sometimes.”
*
Journey’s phone rang as they turned onto the long drive that would lead to the Hamptons house. She’d been expecting the call, and there was no point in trying to put it off. “Anderson.”
“Funny story. I get out of a hellish meeting with Elliott only to be informed by Bellamy that you took Frank Evans to the Hamptons house. Jo, it’s fucking Monday. What are you doing?” He lowered his voice. “We can’t afford to make a misstep right now. Elliott is playing a deeper game than I expected, and I don’t know if I can block his moves as well as I’d hoped. He just informed Eliza that she’s going to marry Asher fucking Bishop to help secure a merger with Cardinal Energy.”
What are you up to, Elliott? “He can’t coordinate a merger without board approval.”
“He has board approval.” Anderson cursed. “We only hold two spots—Bellamy isn’t even on the board of directors. While we were focusing on Elliott showing up, he’s already managed to turn the majority of the board to support him. They voted on it this morning.”
“Fuck.”
“That about sums it up.”
The rest of what her brother said caught up with her. “Wait, back up. Why the hell would Eliza have to marry him? This isn’t medieval Europe. We don’t have to barter our sister to secure a business deal. He just signs on the dotted line and that’s that.” She was oversimplifying, but the fact still stood that there wasn’t a damn reason to turn her sister into an unwilling bride. Because Eliza was unwilling—there was no way she’d agree to that unless she was under duress.
“It might be as simple as getting her out of the way. I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know.” Anderson cursed. “I’m in over my head, Jo. I can’t be everywhere at once, and every time I turn around, another thing I’ve fought to protect is being thrown to the wolves.”
She pulled up in front of the house and held up a finger to keep Frank in his seat. Journey climbed out and shut the door, walking several steps away from the car. “He threatened Frank.”
“Why the hell would he decide it was a good idea to fuck with Frank Evans? He’s risking alienating a potential ally. Frank’s allegiance is to Beckett—always has been.”
Oh right, I didn’t tell him. Guilt flared, and she did her best to ignore it. “I’m dating Frank. I didn’t exactly make it public knowledge for obvious reasons, but Elliott made a surprise visit to my apartment last Friday, and Frank happened to show up around the same time.”
Silence reigned. She paced away from the car and back again. Every instinct demanded she start talking—babbling—and try to explain herself to avoid her brother’s anger. Or, worse, his disappointment. She didn’t. Anderson might get pissed sometimes, but it was only on her behalf. He would never hurt her, and even if fighting with him was the last thing she wanted to do, she would do it if it meant keeping him safe.
He couldn’t go after their father directly. She’d originally concocted this plan for fear that Anderson would kill their father and pay the consequences. Now, Journey couldn’t shake the belief that if Anderson challenged Elliott, their father would kill him.
She had to keep him out of it.
“Andy, talk to me.”
The use of her childhood nickname for him had him cursing all over again. “He was at your place.”
At first she thought he meant Frank, but realization stopped her in her tracks. “Nothing happened. Frank arrived before…Well, I don’t know what he planned, but Frank ran him off.” Because I couldn’t. Because I wasn’t strong enough.
“Stay in the Hamptons, Jo. I’ll cover for you.”
Oh, she didn’t like this turn. She didn’t like it one bit. Journey clutched the phone to her ear. “Don’t do something you can’t take back. Promise me.”