The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(64)

He made his way back to their normal table, but stopped short when he realized Beck wasn’t alone. Anderson King sat next to him, and the man looked up as Frank approached, his blue eyes not showing any emotion. “Evans.”

“Anderson.” He nodded. “Beck.”

“Sorry, Frank. Anderson called me when I was on my way over here, and I figured it would be better to cut through all the bullshit and lay our cards on the table.” Beck waited for him to take a seat in the booth before he continued. “We all want the same thing—Elliott Bancroft out of Houston and away from Kingdom Corp.”

Frank didn’t give a fuck about Kingdom Corp. If Elliott wanted to drive that goddamn company into the ground, he was more than welcome to it. But Frank knew Journey well enough by now to know that she’d go down with that ship, and that he couldn’t allow. Elliott had already hurt her enough; she wasn’t going to lose the company she loved because of him, too. “I’m listening.”

Beck shot him a look, but it was Anderson who spoke. “I couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on with you and Jo, but she asked you to help, didn’t she? That’s the only goddamn reason I can think that you’d even be part of this conversation.” He leaned, every move telegraphing arrogance. “We’ve got it covered, Evans. You’re no longer needed.”

For fuck’s sake. He forced himself still, smothering any physical reaction that showed just how close to the mark Anderson had hit. “From where I’m sitting, you need all the help you can get.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, brought up the video, and spun it around to face the other two men.

Anderson watched it all the way through twice and cursed. “I knew it wasn’t an accident, but they set it up to do as much damage as possible with that single hit.” His composure dropped for the breadth of a moment, but he regained control quickly. “I should have known she’d try to run. Eliza wasn’t going to let anything threaten her freedom—not even Elliott.” He shook his head. “I’d be proud of her under other circumstances.”

Beck leaned forward. “Why did Elliott bring her back to Houston?”

Frank owed his friend a bottle of his best scotch for asking the question. Anderson would bristle and bitch if Frank had broached it, but Beck was different. They might never be friends, but King blood ran thicker than most—at least when everyone got out of their own damn way. Without their parents in the picture, Frank suspected the King cousins would mend the bridges burned thirty years ago and move forward as a unit, even if they retained their competing businesses.

Anderson hesitated, but if he had figured his way out of this situation, he would have done it when Elliott first showed up. He was obviously outmaneuvered by his father, and not in a position to turn away assistance, even from Frank and Beck. He picked up the beer in front of him and took a long pull. “He’s organizing a merger with Cardinal Energy, though it only goes forward once Eliza and Asher Bishop are married.”

“A marriage to cement a merger?” Frank raised his eyebrows. “Outdated, don’t you think?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. Elliott pulled that shit off all on his own. I tried to go around him to finesse the deal, but the Bishops won’t talk to me, and the board of directors seems to be permanently unavailable.” He cursed. “I only had a couple hours before I heard about Eliza’s accident, but I will get her out of this. I just need time. She didn’t give me any fucking time.”

“It doesn’t make sense. If the marriage is the determining factor for the merger, then keeping Eliza safe and in good health should be Elliott’s priority. What the hell does he gain from nearly killing her?” Frank picked up his beer and set it down again without drinking it.

“He doesn’t deal well with people defying him.” Anderson moved his beer bottle a precise inch to the left and glared at it. “He’s capable of anything.”

The whole thing reeked of a personal vendetta, which made sense if they took it as Elliott reclaiming what he felt Lydia had stolen from him.

Or punishing the children who escaped him.

Frank shook his head. This meeting wasn’t going to get them anywhere. They could spend hours going back and forth. It wouldn’t change anything, and Journey wouldn’t be in any less danger.

He slid out of the booth and stood. “I suggest you get a secondary security detail on both Eliza and Bellamy for the time being—as well as on yourself. Better to be paranoid than to be dead.”

Beck propped his elbows on the table. “Where are you going?”

“To do what I’m good at—fixing the fucking problem.”





Chapter Nineteen



After Samara left, Journey strode into her bedroom and grabbed her phone. She had two missed calls from her mother. She hesitated. Telling Lydia anything at this point was a risk, but there was a chance her mother might have valuable information about Elliott—information that she could leverage into forcing him to leave. She took a slow breath and dialed her mother.

Lydia didn’t make her wait. “You’ve been avoiding my calls.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Things have been complicated.” She walked to the window in her living room overlooking the street. Nothing seemed amiss out there, but Journey still moved to her door and double-checked the locks. “Elliott is back in town.”