The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(89)

Journey tensed against him. “What’s going on?”

“Grandmother is on her way to Kingdom Corp. She wants all of us there.”

Frank tightened his grip on her. “Fuck that. The company shares move to Anderson with Elliott’s death—not Esther. Your sister almost died. She’s not doing anything but going home right now.”

“No.” Journey pressed her hand to his chest. “We’re going. She still has board control, and that makes her dangerous even without majority shares. I won’t be the weak link.” She twisted to look at him. “If you need to leave—”

“Get that thought right out of your head, Duchess. Where you go, I go.” He opened the passenger door for her, and then climbed into the backseat once she was settled.

Bellamy didn’t move. “You okay, Jo?”

Frank kept his snarl under wraps. It was obvious that her little brother loved her, and just as obvious that he didn’t know how to handle the fact that he hadn’t been there for her. The question was both testing the waters and a peace offering of sorts.

She settled back into her seat with a sigh. “Getting there, Bel. Getting there.”

They didn’t speak another word until Bellamy pulled into a parking spot in the garage of Kingdom Corp. He hesitated and then said, “I’ll give you two a minute. Esther will be up in Anderson’s office when you’re ready.”

Frank watched him walk away from the car. “He’s about as subtle as a brick to the head.”

“Bellamy’s better when he sees things from a distance.” She didn’t move to open her door or turn to look at him. “He also doesn’t like feeling helpless.”

You don’t have to do this. He knew better than to speak the words. Today had more than proved Journey was strong enough to stand as a full partner, to protect him as much as he protected her. He trusted her to draw the line when she needed to. If she said she could handle it, then she could.

But that didn’t mean she had to stand alone.

“What do you need from me?”

She sighed. “I should tell you that I need you to leave so I can do this myself, but the thought of going up there and facing her down after everything that’s happened…I can’t do it.”

“There’s no shame in asking for help, Duchess. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you smart.”

She twisted to look at him around the headrest. “I know that.” Her hazel eyes seemed almost brown against the chalkiness of her skin and with her blond hair tangled around her face. She looked like she’d been to war and back, which was nothing less than the truth.

He waited. This was the defining moment for them, more than anything that had come before. The immediate danger had passed—whatever Esther’s game was, her goals that day wouldn’t involve threats.

Journey didn’t need him.

Not anymore.

She gave a half smile. “It would make me feel better if you were there with me when I faced her.”

Not to fight her battles—to support her while she fought her own.

He reached up and smoothed back her hair. “Anything for you, Duchess.”

*



Journey probably should have asked Bellamy to swing by her place on the way over so she could change, but she perversely wanted her grandmother to see exactly what Elliott had brought about.

They took the elevator up to the executive floor. Frank stayed half a step behind her, offering her his silent support, and she loved him so fucking much for realizing she needed to do this—and not trying to stop her in an effort to protect her. He’d never chain her to him. He would, however, stand by ready to catch her while she learned to fly with her newfound wings.

They found both of Journey’s brothers and her grandmother in Anderson’s office. Esther stood at the window looking out over the view, probably placing herself directly in the path of a sunbeam solely because she knew it lit up her gray hair like a halo and gave her a heavenly impression. She turned as they walked through the door, and horror suffused her face. “Oh, Journey.”

She felt Frank stiffen behind her and reached back to take his hand. Trust me. “Grandmother.” She braced for the accusations or demands for explanation. There was no way Esther wouldn’t blame her for what happened on that boat. It didn’t matter what the truth was—she’d lost a son today and she’d react accordingly.

Esther clasped her hands in front of her. She wore a pale yellow dress that somehow made her look stronger while playing up her age all the same. “I am so terribly sorry. If I’d been more careful with dismissing Elliott…” She pressed her lips together in the same move Journey did more often than she cared to think about. “But I wasn’t. The harm my son did rests on my shoulders.”

Several long seconds passed as Journey tried to make reality and expectation mesh into something recognizable. It didn’t work.

She knew better than to argue that her grandmother was well aware what Elliott was capable of when she’d set him on his children like a rabid dog. It was his sole purpose for being in Houston, and this kind grandmother act didn’t change how ruthlessly Esther had worked to bring them to their knees. “Is there anything else, Grandmother?” Her voice came out steady despite the exhaustion weighing her down. All she wanted was a shower and to collapse into her bed for the next twelve hours and give herself some time to process what the hell had happened.