Chapter 13

Malachi

Once again, Malachi woke to the sterilised scent and decoration of a hospital room. That one was no less effluent than the previous one, but the pounding in his head was a recent addition. He tried to lift his head and groaned when pain shot through him. Reaching up to his forehead, he felt a bandage, and there was no denying the lump beneath it.

"What the hell?" he tried to say, but his voice wouldn't work properly.

It must've been enough, though, because seconds later, Nick was beside him. The low-level lighting could still pick up how pale he was.

"Hey," he said, grasping his hand gently. "How are you feeling?"

Malachi checked in with himself while Nick helped him to drink some water. "My head has a gymnast on a trampoline, and my right side aches a bit. What happened?"

"We're not certain. What do you remember?"

Malachi blinked, trying to remember what happened, his stomach churning with nausea. "I remember using the toilet and washing my hands. Then I felt a migraine blast through me. I must've lost consciousness."

Nick grimaced. "I don't think it was a migraine. Someone hit you with something and knocked you out. They used the secret tunnels to get in."

"Secret tunnels?" He frowned as he tried to figure out what Nick was telling him, but then his brain caught on, and he smiled. "They're real?"

Nick huffed a laugh, his shoulders lowering as he shook his head. "You and your reporter head. Yes, they are, but not for much longer. We've had far too many issues with them, so we'll be closing them up indefinitely."

"That's a shame. I bet they're handy." He felt his eyes growing heavy again.

"Truthfully, they're rarely used."

Malachi floated away. "I'm sure…we can think up…a story."

****

The next time he woke, he was more alert, though he was extremely glad the lighting remained low. He eased his head until Nick's prone form came into view. Slouched in an uncomfortable position in a chair not made for sleeping, Malachi guaranteed he'd be hurting when he woke up. Malachi took check of himself. His head still hurt, but it wasn't as bad as before. His side ached a bit more, but he assumed that had something to do with a bruise coming out. He touched the side of his head, gingerly pressing at the lump, causing him to hiss.

Nick woke immediately. "Are you okay?" he said, rising without a hint of an ache.

"How can you sleep like that and not hurt?"

Nick chuckled. "Many years of practice. It's almost like being in the Army. Catching snatches of sleep when you can and being alert the second you need to. But you're avoiding my question. How are you?"

Malachi sighed. "Aching, but I'm okay. Someone really attacked me in Windsor Castle?"

Nick exhaled and settled carefully onto the edge of the bed. "Yes. It's not the first time something like this has happened." He paused, his mouth twisting. "Off the record, those secret doorways were how someone got around the castle to hurt the royal family during those years of unrest. We kept that quiet."

Malachi blinked, his head spinning for a second. "Wow. I knew there had been whispers of secret tunnels, but nothing had ever been confirmed. I could understand it was to safeguard the family."

Nick nodded. "We have to have some secrets." He grinned.

Malachi chuckled and winced as a sharp pain shot through his head. "Okay, laughing is a no-no." He rested his head back again, breathing deeply.

"Sorry."

He gently rolled his head to the side to meet Nick's gaze. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

In an uncharacteristic show of uncertainty, Nick dropped his gaze to the floor. Malachi wished he could comfort him as much as receive comfort in return.

"Nick?" Nick didn't look at him. "Nick, look at me." It took a few seconds, but he did. "It's not your fault, okay? You weren't to know this would happen."

"I should've been keeping an eye on you instead of talking with the king."

Malachi sighed. "Nick…you couldn't have known."

"I should've!"

"Come on. Are you a mind reader now? No one could've predicted that."

Nick raked his fingers through his hair and stalked to the other side of the room before returning. "After what happened before, it should've been something that was on our radar. Even though those tunnels are not used, we still knew they were there and that some were open. We should've thought about the possibility of something happening. Not necessarily to you, but to someone."

Malachi nodded. "Maybe. But it's done now. We can't change what happened, only how we go forward. Do we know who it was?"

Nick shook his head. "Those tunnels don't have cameras, and we don't have any other cameras showing anything out of the ordinary. Either they managed to get out of Windsor completely, or they are someone who works there, and we wouldn't think anything of them being around." He winced.

"What's wrong?"

Nick settled into the seat he'd been asleep in and blew out a breath. "We need to figure out if these events are focused on you or whether you're just convenient and it's aimed at the royal family."

Malachi frowned, but his stomach churned faster, causing him to close his eyes and breathe through his nose for a moment. When he blinked open again, he said, "Why would it be focused on me?"

"I don't know. Maybe someone doesn't like your work? Have you had any hate mail or anything recently?"

Malachi chuckled and wished he hadn't. One Nick turned into two for a short time, and his head spun, but it eased fairly quickly. A wave of lethargy washed over him.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I'm assuming I have a concussion? I've had one before and it seems to be similar to this."

"Yeah. Concussions suck."

Wanting to chuckle, Malachi held his breath to stop it and then shook his finger at Nick. "Stop trying to make me laugh."

"Sorry."

Malachi muttered, "I think I need to donate blood with how often I've been here lately." He sighed. "I receive hundreds of hate emails every day. I no longer read them. Any one of them could take it further and I wouldn't have a clue. Other than that, there's no one…"

He frowned, winced and tried to follow his train of thought. His brain didn't want to lock on properly. Replaying his previous words, he grasped the tip.

"What's wrong?" Nick asked, settling beside him again.

"There was something… Oh, yeah. Tarrant Milton. He's a fan, and he sometimes sounds a little fanatical. But not in a hateful kind of way."

"Have you ever met him?"

"Once. We attended the same charity event. I wasn't entirely sure how he even came to be there, because he wasn't a reporter or anything like that. He introduced himself, and other than seeming a little flustered at meeting me, he was harmless." He didn't need to explain that there was something in the man's eyes that didn't sit right with him. That was just his personal opinions getting in the way. "I occasionally use him as a source."

"That reminds me. Do you know anyone called Tarum?"

Malachi reached for the cup of water, and Nick took over, holding it for him to sip from. He used the time to think through his acquaintances. When he'd had his fill, he said, "Not that I can think of. Why?"

"In that bathroom, you woke briefly and said, ‘Tarum.' At least that's what it sounded like to me and Brett."

"It doesn't ring a bell."

A knock sounded, and Nick went to the door, opening it a crack before pulling it wider. "Should you really be here, Your Highness?"

"I'm sure you and my guards are more than enough to keep me safe, Nick," Prince Freddie said. "Plus, Damon is here, and you already have other guards outside. I think I'm okay to stop by and see how our guest is faring for a short time."

He focused on Malachi, who fought not to squirm and make himself feel worse. As it was, there were two of the prince when he looked at him.

"How are you feeling, Malachi?"

"A little foolish that things like this are happening to me. I'm sorry for making things difficult."

Freddie waved him away. "Don't even bother yourself with thoughts like that. We've had our fair share of problems, so we know what it's like to be the focus of someone's ire."

"You do think it's someone after me, then?"

"We went through everything with Brett and Felix, and from what we can gather—which isn't much mind—they have to be part of our household staff or they know someone who is, and they helped get them away. We've been through everyone present when we locked down Windsor, and no one brought up any red flags. All we can assume, right now, is that they somehow got out of Windsor undetected." Freddie frowned. "It's something we will be rectifying immediately. But don't worry yourself with that. Just get better. And as soon as you're released, you're welcome to come back—if you want to. Although we completely understand if you don't ever want to darken our halls again." Freddie's smile grew, and Malachi returned it.

"I would love to come back. But maybe I should visit my family first."

Freddie nodded. "I understand completely. Feel free to extend the invitation to your family as well, if it would make them feel better about you being there. Anyway, I better take my leave before I give Nick here a heart attack."

Malachi glanced at Nick, and sure enough, the vein in his temple pulsed wildly. He grinned, barely hiding another wince.

"If I was to have a heart attack so easily, I would've had a hundred by now, Your Highness," Nick said.

Freddie chuckled. "Get well soon…Kai."

Malachi's smile widened. He sure did love being called Kai instead, but he had to admit, he liked it best when Nick said it. The prince left, and Nick turned to him.

"Right. You need to rest. I'll even tuck you in."

"I'm already tucked in," he said as Nick tucked the covers tighter around his body. "Well, thank you, kind sir."

Nick settled back into the uncomfortable chair, and Malachi closed his eyes. Finally, his head stopped spinning.

"Nick?" he whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Will you read me a bedtime story?"

There was a slight pause, and Malachi didn't think he would, but then he cleared his throat. "Once upon a time, there was an evil reporter called…Guy…"

Malachi's mouth curved, and he drifted to the sounds of Nick's voice as he wove a tale of intrigue and madness. And when Malachi finally headed towards sleep, he knew he was safe.

****

"I understand if you don't want me there, but someone has to go with you," Nick stated, and by the look of his body language, there would be no changing his stance.

Malachi sighed and rubbed his forehead, bypassing the lump, as he resigned himself to having a guard while visiting his family.

"I'm happy for you to come, but I doubt you want to meet my mum and grandma so soon." He rose from the bed carefully. Most of the dizziness and double vision had disappeared over the last twenty-four hours, and only the blinding headaches remained, varying in strength, depending on the situation. But the doctors had cleared him for release, and he was going no matter what.

Nick readjusted his position against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other and staring down at them. "Whatever will make you more comfortable."

Enough was enough. "Nick, you need to make this decision, not me. I'm going home, regardless, and I would love you to meet everyone, but we've barely started our relationship. Few people introduce their bodyguard and boyfriend at the same time."

Nick's mouth quirked. "Could be a good story."

"Nick…"

Nick pushed off the wall and dropped his hands to his sides. "If you are sure you're happy introducing me, I am happy to come with you."

Malachi studied him, and Nick stared right back, unwavering, solid. "Okay. Welcome to ‘meet the family' day."

As his discharge papers had already been completed, he followed Nick to the lifts and down the long corridors towards the exit. Murals decorated the walls in vibrant colours, letting patients and visitors take a journey through various landscapes. That one was a rainforest, and the work was so vivid, it felt like he was there.

"This was done by a thirteen-year-old, you know?" he murmured.

"She's definitely going into a bright future with this talent," Nick said.

Malachi mulled over that as they drove towards his grandmother's house. What he wouldn't give for a do-over, as long as it didn't affect the outcome. He wouldn't change a thing if it meant his mother didn't get the treatment she needed. But it would've been nice to choose a different path. One he didn't have to continually blacken his soul to keep. It was only because the Sutcliffes were the kindest people on the planet that he could finally write his evil words with less pain. They understood. Maybe not everything, but they knew he wouldn't be doing it without a reason, and by not asking him to give that reason, they had accepted it.

Shame other people weren't of the same opinions.

When they parked in front of the house, Malachi took a breath. He had never before introduced someone to his family, and his knees were a little shaky. He brushed off some imaginary dust from his trousers.

"Do you want me to tell them you're just my bodyguard?" he asked.

Fingers brushed against his cheek, turning his head towards Nick. "Not unless that's what you would prefer."

The sincerity shone in his eyes, so Malachi shook his head. "I've never done this before," he whispered.

"What?"

"Introduced a boyfriend."

Nick smiled. "We already have an audience," he gripped Malachi's chin to stop him from looking, "so why not break the news now to get it over with?"

Malachi swallowed hard, but then smiled and leaned forward, joining their lips in a chaste kiss. He'd been wanting to do it since he'd woken up but hadn't had the courage to just reach for it. Despite Nick's behaviour to the contrary, he had wondered if the man wouldn't want to continue anything because of what they'd surmised about the incidents.

"What do I tell them?"

Nick sighed. "The truth." Malachi's eyes widened, and Nick chuckled. "I won't have you keeping secrets when you don't need to."

Leaning forward, Malachi kissed him again as a thank you. He hated the idea of keeping things from them, but he would if he needed to. By giving him no restraints, he could weave a story as close to the truth as he wanted but leave out some details to protect the royal family.

"Let's go," Nick said and climbed out of the car before Malachi could stop him.

Nick rounded the car and opened Malachi's door, holding out his hand to help him out, which he was extremely glad for because he was still a little wobbly—from the incident and that talk. Nick let go of him, but Malachi threaded their fingers together, both to keep himself from running to hide and to help calm his nerves.

"Malachi! What happened?" his mother said, reaching for him and cradling his cheeks. Her eyes flitted over his bandage, and she turned his head this way and that to check for more. It was something she had always done whenever he'd been injured.

"I'm okay. I have a concussion, but I'm okay."

"You have a lump the size of Ireland on your head! Of course, you're not okay!"

"Mum, please, don't shout."

Emily's nostrils flared, showing that she was keeping herself from crying. "Sorry, sweetheart." She glanced at Nick, and Malachi identified his cue.

"Mum, this is Nick. Nick, my mum, Emily. Nick is…my boyfriend." He peered at Nick, who smiled and held out his hand.

"Mrs Sanders, it's lovely to finally meet you. Malachi speaks of you all the time."

At first, Emily didn't respond, but then she smiled and took his hand. "I don't need to ask what you do. I've seen you on the TV."

Nick nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sure you have."

Emily studied them both. "Before we go inside to Grandma… Is this," she pointed at Malachi's head, "related to the crown or simply Malachi being clumsy?"

He could see Nick's approval, and why it mattered to Malachi that Nick see how intelligent and worldly his mother was, he didn't know.

"In short, we're not certain what the incidents were about, but we are investigating. I'm sorry to say we don't have any answers right now."

Emily raised her eyebrows at Malachi, and he winced. "Incidents? Plural?"

Nick snapped his gaze to him, eyes wide, and Malachi couldn't help but laugh. But then he was wracked with a throbbing head and a wave of nausea. By the time it eased enough for him to think, he sat in his grandma's living room. Nick handed him a cup of water and helped steady his hands to drink it.

"I really shouldn't laugh at the minute. It really hurts," he complained.

"I don't see how this is a laughing matter, anyway," his mother said.

"It wasn't the incident I was laughing at. It was Nick's expression when he thought he'd dropped me in it." Even now, the reminder made him smile, but he refrained from laughing. Nick scowled at him. "It's okay. They know everything…I think." Even he was getting a little rattled by what seemed to be happening. They needed to figure out what was going on quickly because he couldn't keep looking over his shoulder every day.

****