30. Royal

Chapter 30

Royal

Such a phony!

Royal plastered on his most convincing poker face because he wasn't certain about anything he'd said regarding Wade. And he sure as hell wasn't in control of his emotions that had more bounce than Tigger. They were all over the place. On one hand, he wanted to ram his fist into Wade's smug face. How could Wade say the things that he had? Especially to Easton, who'd never harm a fly. Royal could take it. He was used to people looking at him as if he were shit and didn't deserve life—as if he were less than human. It was something a person of color got used to but was never comfortable with. It always stung, but Royal could handle it. He had no choice. Duchess had raised him to have alligator skin. He would never understand why the world was so full of hate, but he accepted it.

Besides, he was the rowdy one—the one with the big mouth who stole spotlights. Not Easton. Royal might stick his nose in others' business because he could be nosy that way sometimes. He wasn't immune to a tasty tidbit of juicy gossip now and again. But that wasn't Easton. No, he'd walk away without listening and say nothing. So, if Wade felt compelled to blast anyone, Royal felt it should be him. Wade had no reason to go after Easton. Yet…

Wade had a big mouth that grew exponentially bigger after guzzling whatever was on tap and a volatile temper. A couple of pilsners and he wouldn't give a ripping, flipping, whipping toot about a single word Marcel had said. Nevertheless, Royal had to convince Easton, who had looked as if he might pass slam out, that he believed it. It wasn't fair to saddle his best friend with doubt and worry. Easton had enough going on in his life without adding Wade's bullshit to the mix. Then again, so did Wade.

Royal attempted to put himself in Wade's shoes. Would he have been shocked about what he'd witnessed? Sure. Although… Wade had indicated that he'd had his suspicions. So, maybe he wasn't shocked. But what right did he have to be angry—because he seemed furious. It didn't concern him. This was a man who whipped out his pecker and pissed in sinks and who posted his ex's American Express number on Craigslist after learning she had cheated on him. Surely, his delicate sensibilities couldn't have been offended.

True, he was—as they all were—influenced by a toxic homophobic environment. Yet, for Royal, this didn't seem to explain enough. Wade was his friend—as Marcel had said, they were like family. How would being family not be enough to show a sliver of compassion or tolerance? But Wade had threatened them. He'd held up that camera and said he would expose Easton. Yes, the threat also included exposing Royal, but he could half understand that part. After all, he begrudgingly had to admit that he did behave like an ass sometimes. But Easton was nothing but good to people—his heart pure gold. It was the quality that made him special. So, how could Wade disregard that so easily? If anyone should be ticked, it should be Easton. His heart truly ached.

Fuck!

Royal recalled when his grandpapi passed away. This felt like that, except all the stages of grief had been molded into one and were oscillating for dominance. Currently, fury was winning, and rage coursed through him. If he could have, he would have shaken every tooth loose in Wade's mouth. However, that wasn't something he could do for Easton's sake. He couldn't afford to do anything that would set Wade off and unleash his viciousness on Easton. All he could do was pray that Marcel's words had had enough impact to keep Wade silent. Only time would tell, and time had a way of unsatisfyingly stretching out. Thus, he couldn't focus on it and had to accept not knowing.

"It doesn't look too bad," Royal stated, inspecting the four-wheeler that had landed on its side. It was built to be sturdy—to withstand plowing through thickets and woods. He had to be equally as sturdy.

Sell it. Make him buy the act.

He pushed the ATV upright and pressed the starter. The four-wheeler sputtered but cranked.

"I think we're going to be okay here," he stated, attempting to convince himself about more than the four-wheeler.

* * *

"Petit, darling, I wish I'd known you were coming home earlier, and I wouldn't have agreed to go on this girls' trip," Royal's mother complained, arranging wax paper in a Tupperware bowl.

Royal leaned against the kitchen counter, thumbs stuck into the front pockets of his denim. Thick with the aromas of cinnamon and sugar, he soaked in the scents of freshly baked pastries cooling.

"Duchess, don't dare change your plans on account of me."

"But it's just a play, and probably not even a good one. There'll be others."

"Nonsense. It has rave reviews. You've waited months for these tickets and jumped through triple hoops of volcanic fire to get them." He inched closer to a plate of beignets. "Besides, you should get out with friends more."

"I'd rather spend the time with you. I don't get to see you hardly enough."

"It's not like you'll be gone for five to seven business days. I'll be here when you return tomorrow."

"Smarty." Her velvet voice suited her regal demeanor. She patted Royal on his arm as she passed him to collect another storage container from the overhead cabinet, her clean scent of shampoo and soap mixing with the baking aromas. "It feels rude leaving you here alone."

While his mother's back was turned, Royal pinched off a chunk of beignet and crammed it into his mouth. "I'll invite Easton over to watch a kaiju movie and become a taco connoisseur."

Pivoting, his mother frowned. "Splendid. Not only am I abandoning my child, I'll be the reason Lisette is deprived of hers."

"Well, maybe I'll head over there."

His mother scoffed. "And intrude on their family time?"

"You know she's probably wondering where I am right now."

"That's true. You two have always been two for the price of one wholesale. Didn't even need a coupon."

Royal chuckled and watched his mother resume packing the pastries. She had her ebony hair scooped in a tidy bun and held by several vintage clips. More silver strands streaked her hair than the last time he'd visited. However, instead of aging her, it made her look more refined and elegant. Such a genteel-looking woman with delicate bone structure yet deceptively strong. He didn't doubt she could wrestle a polar bear if she had to and win. Marveling at her beauty, he mused with pride.

Poor bear.

Then the smile faded, and his eyes grew serious.

"Duchess, I need to tell you something."

"That y'all finally confessed your feelings for each other?"

Royal's jaw dropped, and his heart embedded itself someplace between his rib cage and his esophagus. " Quoi? "

Oh my lanta. How the hell…? That hadn't been what he was going to say—not even close.

"No."

Holy shit? Did I just come out to ma mère ?

"Well, don't you think it's about time y'all did?"

Speechless. Wide-eyed, he stared at his mother. She glanced at him as she scurried around the kitchen.

"Petit, you're as pale as a bar of Ivory soap, which is quite the trick considering your coloring. Oh, that reminds me. I need to put dishwashing liquid on the grocery list." She strolled to the refrigerator and added the item to a piece of paper held by magnets.

He still had no words.

"Royal, baby, I'm going to need you to blink twice if you're okay."

Silence.

"Do I need to grab the defibrillator?"

Nothing ever got past his mother with her weirdly intuitive hawk instincts. How had he thought she wouldn't have known? But that was exactly what he'd thought.

Stupid.

"How are we even having this discussion?"

" Whew , you're still with me." His mother exaggerated a sigh of relief. "That's a good thing. I haven't checked the batteries in that thingamajig since I bought it years ago. I have no idea if they still have juice. Instead of giving a jolt, it may only tickle. Wouldn't that have been something? The good news is, they relocated the fire station. It's closer now. Still probably won't do us any good this far out, but it gives you about a 20 percent chance instead of 10 that they'll make it here before you voyage to meet Saint Peter. That's double. Plus, they'd already be here when I'd have to explain your demise to Easton, so he'd have even better odds."

Throwing up his hands, Royal shook his head like a shaggy pooch receiving a bath. His cheeks burned, and he felt his armpits growing damp.

"Oh, dear. Is it still supposed to be a secret? I can go back to pretending not to know." Although her voice was filled with concern, Royal detected a smidgen of humor.

"Did Marcel say something?"

"He finally figured it out, did he? Well, it's about time. If it doesn't have four legs, that man's about as obtuse as the tires on that rotting, beat-up jalopy in his garage, like he's some shade-tree mechanic. Bless his heart."

Is this my life right now?

"Wh-Wh-What?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter." She closed the lid on the container and gave him her full attention. "So, if that wasn't what you wanted to tell me, what was?"

"I called Ignacio," he blurted.

Now his mother's eyes dimmed as if she'd been informed of a nuclear holocaust. No. Wounded by one. "Oh."

Dammit!

That was not how he wanted to tell her—just bellowing it out like a blue-light special over an intercom with no preamble. What the hell was his problem? The hurt he saw bunched in her eyes made him feel like dogshit. No, worse. Like the specks on dogshit. If he could take it back, he would, but he couldn't.

"I wanted to?—"

"You're a grown man. You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"Duchess, please. I want to. S'il vous pla?t. "

His mother emitted a reluctant sigh and nodded. "All right."

"You've always given me everything I've ever needed. I couldn't ask for more, yet it's always felt weird that there is a person who I share half my DNA with walking around in the world, and I've never spoken to him. Maybe that's what's been pushing me. Chalk it up to innate-slash-genetic curiosity."

"What did he say when you spoke with him?"

"Not much, but I didn't give him much of a chance. I can't explain why I did it, but I needed you to know that I did."

" D'accord . Now I do."

"Please don't be cross with me."

Her lips curled enough to be considered a smile. "If I'm not cross with you for risking your life every week, how can I be cross about this?"

Closing the short distance between them, Royal threw his arms around her and drew her in close.

"But you pinching off the beignets I baked for the girls is another thing. You're grounded."

"Aw, shucks! Does this mean I have to sneak out of my window again? Cos climbing over those yucca bushes is a bitch."

"Like they've ever been a deterrent. You ripped up plenty of perfectly good jeans doing so. I'd be a thousandaire today if I'd bought stock in denim patches."

Royal's grin broadened. God, I love this woman.