Page 131 of Fall of a Kingdom
“We can’t,” Charles responded. “All air traffic is currently grounded due to weather conditions. A storm is blowing through.”
“Fuck, fuck,fuck.”
“Just wait it out, Flynn,” he said. “By the time you’re finished making your statement, I’m sure the weather will be—”
“I have to get home,” I interrupted. “It’s an emergency.”
“My hands are tied. They won’t clear us to fly.”
“I have to get home, Charles. It’s non-negotiable. I’m going to drive. I can be home in about ten hours.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he queried.
“What was that?” I asked, my voice deadly calm.
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“That’s what I thought.” I hung up on him.
Angus was at home with Barrett and the bairns and I hadn’t left The Rex in days. I’d had no use for a driver, and I didn’t need one now.
I could drive myself, and I preferred it. I didn’t want to talk to another human being. I wanted to be alone to think and figure out how I was going to walk into my house and not lose my shite about my wife keeping this from me.
Why had she kept this from me?
She should’ve told me the moment she realized something was going on.
I got up and went inside. I’d stopped drinking hours ago in preparation of facing the paparazzi. The last thing I’d wanted to do was look hungover with red rimmed eyes, like I had steadily been drinking for days…which I had been.
Ramsey had been stabbed.
Sasha’s holdings at the port had been set on fire.
The Rex was in the middle of a PR nightmare.
Barrett had a brain tumor.
I grabbed my cell phone and made sure I had my wallet in my pocket. Everything else I left. I’d planned for the uncontrollable moments; at every one of my hotels there was an identical silver Aston Martin waiting for me in a permanent VIP spot, fueled and ready to go, maintained by the valet managers. I was a billionaire, and a billionaire always had an escape plan.
An hour later, I was on the outskirts of London. Only then did I call Gianna. It was nearly midnight, but it was her job to take my calls at any time of day.
“Gianna, I’m headed home. There’s something I have to take care of.”
“What? What the fuck are you—no, no you have to be at the press conference you can’t—”
“Family emergency,” I said. “And that’s all I’m saying about it right now and that’s final.”
She sighed. “This better be good. I’m going to need something to work with. They’re going to be furious.”
“Fuck them. This isn’t a fucking game, it’s my family. I’ll be in touch.”
I hung up on her. She didn’t even attempt to call me back.
My thoughts drifted to my eldest son. Was Hawk asleep? Did he return Barrett’s phone? Was he clutching it to his chest, waiting for me to call? Did I want to call and risk waking him up? Or was it better to let it be and just show up? I wanted to comfort him, but I wasn’t even sure I could do that over the phone.
My cell rang, jarring me out of my thoughts and I recognized the private, secure line from my office.
“Hello.”
