The Everest Brothers: Ethan - Hutton - Bennett

by Scott, S. L.

  He only had a two-second head start out the door, but he’s a lot faster than I am. Running barefoot isn’t helping me. The echo of the door slamming against the wall reaches my ears, and I pick up my pace, running down the stairs.

  A loud roar rips from Hutton’s chest, and I hear the sound of a table breaking before I reach the door. Entering the media room, I come to a rapid halt, covering my mouth in horror.

  Hutton yells at the top of his lungs, “You’re a fucking dead man,” while Bennett pulls him back. Chips have exploded around the room, and a bloody-nosed Dick lies on top of the broken poker table. Jakob stands between the two men with his arms out wide.

  Mr. Yamagata leans against the buffet laughing. I move in front of Hutton, pushing my hands against his chest. “Hutton. Please,” I plead, “stop.”

  “Stop?” He turns his ire on me. “He forced himself on you, and you want me to stop?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Bennett loosens his hold on his brother and tells him, “Let’s go. That fucker’s not worth your time.”

  His anger coats every breath. His eyes are locked on Dick as though he’s eyeing his prey. Swear words I’ve never heard before fill the air, but I hold my hands to him, hoping he backs down.

  I had hoped my father would have already retired for the night and not been here to witness this, but my eyes close in defeat when I hear him speak. “You’re a princess dressed like a whore. You’ve been nothing but trouble, and you’ll never be queen.” What? He’s making this about me?

  My hands fall from Hutton’s chest as I look at what I’m wearing—boxer shorts and a cutoff concert tee that hangs off one shoulder. No socks. No shoes. No bra. I can’t look my father in the eyes. I don’t want to see how much I’ve disappointed him. Have I finally lost the last of the love he had for me? “I apologize. I didn’t expect to leave my room tonight.”

  My reason will be seen as an excuse because I was raised that even in private, I should be dressed appropriately. I’ve failed my family name again, and now I’ve shamed them.

  I look up into Hutton’s usually comforting, warm eyes, but even he can’t save me from the humiliation coursing through me. Tears sting my cheeks as they topple over my lower lids. Hutton reaches out to wipe them away, but I take a step back, knowing I can’t make another wrong move or my father’s threat will become a reality. He says, “Don’t let them win, Ally.”

  “They already did.”

  My father demands, “Get away from daughter, Mr. Everest, and pack your belongings. I want you out of my home immediately.”

  Hutton hits my father with a harsh glare. “No problem, Prince.” Holding out a hand, he whispers, “We can go to New York together just like you wanted. We’ll leave tonight.”

  My father sets his drink down, the Scotch spilling over the lip of the glass. “How dare you proposition a Brudenbourg princess like she’s a streetwalker.”

  “Your words. Not mine.”

  “Leave before I have you arrested or maybe you’ve missed your natural habitat.”

  “Fuck you,” Hutton replies, treating my father like he’s bothersome gnat. Turning back to me, he changes his demeanor, softening toward me. “Come with me, Ally.”

  Dick pushes off the broken table and holds his head back. With his eyes on us, he asks, “Why do you keep calling her Ally?”

  Jakob steps into the mix. “What are you doing, Hutton? That’s my sister.”

  Bennett comes around and drops his shoulders. “You need to step back, Jakob.”

  “Or what?” My brother’s hand pushes my hip. “Get back, Belle.”

  I hate the pain I’ve caused my family. “It’s okay, Jakob. He won’t hurt me.”

  Hutton calls my name. When I look at him, he says, “I’ll take you anywhere. I’ll give you anything you need.”

  Dick yells, “What the hell is going on?”

  As if my wounds weren’t deep enough, Margie shows up. I brace myself for the betrayal, but it doesn’t come. She walks over with a robe I don’t recognize and wordlessly drapes it over my shoulders.

  My brother is as confused as my father, and asks again, “Belle, what’s going on?”

  Glancing at my father, I say, “You can take away what’s rightfully mine, but that will only change history. I’ll live on.”

  “Somewhere else,” he says, “if you walk out with him.”

  Jakob touches my arm. “Don’t do this, sis.”

  “I’m not. He is,” I say, gesturing to our father. I take Hutton’s hand and start to leave. “I just have to pack a few things.”

  To my back, my father shouts, “Everything you own is Brudenbourg property. You own nothing, so you’ll take nothing.”

  I never look back. It’s not an image I want to remember my father by because he wasn’t always that mean. Outside the media room, Hutton stops me. “You don’t have to do this for me. I love you. I’ll love you if you stay. You don’t have to give up anything for me.”

  “I’m not giving up anything. I’ll fight. It just won’t be tonight. Everyone is too heated to make sense. A few days off and a few days apart will be good for all of us. It will be fine.”

  “Will you be?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. I’m always fine.” I exhale, not wanting to be like this with him. I don’t have to be strong with Hutton. I get to be me. I squeeze his hand. “I am. Come on. I can help you pack.”

  I know he doesn’t believe me when I say I’m okay, but he lets me breathe anyway, knowing when to push and when to let it lie for the time being.

  Bennett joins us. “Damn, girl. You know how to rile the pops up.”

  As we walk up the stairs, I keep my head down, trying to keep my father’s words out of my head. “It’s not the first time. He’ll get over it.”

  “I’m glad Marielle wasn’t down here, or we all would be going to hell together.”

  “New York’s not hell,” I say. “It’s a paradise compared to how the past few years have been here.” Hutton’s silence reveals his concern, so I poke him, hoping to eke out a smile. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I will be, too.”

  “I can’t believe—”

  “This is a long time coming. I’m just sorry you’ve been mixed up in it.”

  Bennett says, “The jet will be ready in thirty minutes. How long do you need?”

  “Ten minutes tops.”

  We walk farther down the hall after Bennett enters his room. As soon as we walk into Hutton’s quarters, I’m tempted to hide like I used to, to pull the covers over my head and wait for a new day to begin. That’s not going to happen this time. “My father called me a whore.”

  “You’re not a whore,” Hutton says, setting his suitcase on the bed and opening it. “There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing. You were wearing it to bed, for fuck’s sake. What does he want you to wear to bed? A nun’s cloak?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  I sit on the bed next to him and watch as he tosses his stuff inside the case. Shoving my hands into the pockets of the robe, I’m met with something hard. I look into the pocket and find a passport—mine to be precise. Margie. After the fight we had, I’m surprised to see this sleight of hand with her helping me out in my time of need. This little gesture gives me hope that we’re not too far gone to mend our friendship.

  Leaning forward, I ask, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I reach for his hands to inspect for damage, but he pulls away.

  “I’m fine. I just want the fuck out of here. I’ll grab my stuff from the bathroom, and then we’re gone.”

  Returning with a small leather bag, he tosses it in the luggage but then flips through his papers. His eyes flash to mine. “You need your passport.”

  I pull my passport from my pocket and wiggle it.

  He says, “That’s convenient.”

  “Maybe Margie doesn’t hate me like I thought.”

  Stopping to look at me, he asks, “What’s going on with Marg
ie?”

  “What’s going on with Margie?” How do I explain that without crying? For many years she’d been my best friend. Yet now . . .

  “Let’s just say that two years together in Texas were not good for our friendship. Or rather, they weren’t good for Margie. Some of that is on me. Long story for another time.”

  “We have a seven-hour flight ahead of us, and I’m all ears.” The suitcase is closed, and while he zips it up, he looks me over. “You look fantastic to me, but do you think they’ll let you change clothes?”

  I can’t go to my room. If I do, I’ll break down when I see what has been my whole life for so long. “No.” My father doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of my tears. I pop my chin in the air, feeling stubborn. “I don’t need anything from them.”

  “I’ll have Singer loan you clothes until you can buy what you need.”

  “With what money?”

  He sets the case down on the floor. “What’s mine is yours. I can and will buy you anything.”

  “Anything.” I walk to the window and look out over the roundabout where an SUV already waits. “From my parents’ daughter to your care.”

  “Ally?”

  “Huh?” I look back at him.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know what you meant. I just . . .” My voice trembles. Taking a deep breath to help stifle the sob lying in wait to break free, I turn around completely. “I have these degrees, but they’re basically worthless because I was ultimately trained for one thing.”

  “To be the queen.” I nod, and he adds, “But guess what? You can be anything you want to be.”

  “Where?” I snap. “In New York? Texas?”

  “Anywhere you want to be. You’re intelligent and brilliant. From the moment I met you, that drew me to you.”

  “I don’t even say what I want to half the time.”

  “Then imagine how incredible it will be when you do.” Crossing the room, he closes the distance between us and stands next to me. “Don’t hold back anymore. I’m not your father or your mother. I want nothing else other than your happiness.”

  “How do you do that?” I reach for his hand, rubbing my thumb over the veins on top of it. “You’re offering me anything I need, but don’t you see? I have nothing to give in return.”

  “I want to kick your father’s ass for what he called you—”

  “Hutton.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t say things like that. He’s the crowned prince.”

  “He’s not mine,” he replies incredulously.

  “He is mine, though.”

  His frustration shows in the way he looks at me—sharp gaze narrowed—so I say, “Don’t worry about me. He’s mad, but he’ll cool down. Anyway, he doesn’t have the final say. My mother does, so I’ll be fine. But what can I do for you?”

  “I’m good.” He runs the back of his hand gently down my cheek. “I get time with you. You’re all I need, baby.”

  Leaning my head on his arm, I hug him. “I’m scared.”

  His arms come around me. “I know, baby. But you’ll be okay. I’ll be here for you however you need me.”

  “Promise?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  With the suitcase in tow, we walk down the hall together.

  Easy. I was crying earlier over the sharpness and stabbing of my father’s words, but Hutton’s right. He’s the easiest decision I’ve made in years. I reach for his hand, and when he takes mine, I bring it to my lips and kiss it. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “For loving me through thick and thin.”

  “That’s easy, Ally. You’re easy to love.”

  We descend the grand staircase—the one where my mother held me when I was introduced to the world, the one where we took our family portrait every year, and the same stairs I’ll walk down for my coronation. They’re called grand for a reason.

  As sure as I am of my love for Hutton, I’m sure that one day I’ll still be the queen, no matter what my father said. Those were only words spouted in a heated moment. As for Dick, after tonight, I will never be forced to share his company again, and I most definitely won’t be his wife.

  New York will be a necessary break for all of us. This trip will give us the time we need to think and to clear our heads. We’ll talk later in the week, but for now, I’m going to support my man.

  Yep. My man.

  * * *

  I don’t think I’ve closed my mouth since the jet landed. “These buildings are bigger than they seem on TV.”

  “We have some in Houston, but not everywhere you look like here.”

  “Where do you live?” I ask, sitting back in the car we took from the private airport. It’s taken over an hour to get into the city, and I have no idea how much longer it will take, but it’s an incredible sight to see for the first time.

  Reaching over, he slides his hand under mine and holds on. “Not too much farther. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.”

  “Are you scared? You left everything.”

  “It was nice of Birgit to give me her clogs.” I hold up my feet and wiggle them. “Not the sexiest, but they’re pretty comfortable.”

  “You know what I mean. You’re wearing a robe.”

  “Good thing there are no cameras around.” I try for humor, but it doesn’t reach my heart. “I don’t think it’s fully set in.”

  “You sure you don’t want something from my suitcase?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Fine,” he repeats, looking unsatisfied. Glancing out the window quickly, he then turns back to me. “We’re here.”

  I bend to look out the window and see a mirrored building leading straight to heaven. The car drops us off at the curb. A doorman wearing a suit similar to the duke’s opens the shiny brass doors for us. I tighten my robe around me, and whisper, “Okay, now I feel like a crazy lady.”

  Hutton wraps his arm around me.

  The doorman says, “Welcome home, Mr. Everest.”

  “Thank you, Jimmy.” I live in a palace, but this place is amazing. White marble fills the lobby, making it appear pristine with modern seating off to one side and Jimmy’s desk on the other. “Jimmy, Ms. Edwards will be staying with me indefinitely. Can I get a key made for her and access to the facilities?”

  “I’ll take care of it right away, sir, and welcome, Ms. Edwards.”

  “Thank you,” Hutton and I say at the same time.

  When we step into the elevator, he pushes the button, and says, “I live on the twenty-sixth floor.”

  “That’s really high up.”

  “My brother Ethan owns the penthouse. I’ll take you up there later.”

  “Where does Bennett live?”

  “Same floor as me.” Touching my chin, he says, “Are you tired?”

  The overnight flight allowed us to sleep, but I still feel like I’m dragging. “Exhausted.”

  “I’m going to take a shower unless you’d like to take one first?”

  “I really want to sleep, but I think I should shower first.”

  “You got it.”

  “Why did Bennett have to go into work right away?”

  “He needs to close down the file and check on some of the clients we’ve not been able to talk to while we were away.”

  “The communications file for my country?”

  He nods. The doors slide open, and we step out. “There are only two doors?”

  “Bennett lives down there. I’m on this side.” I look down the hall one way and then follow him down the other direction. With a smirk on his face, he opens the door. “Home sweet home.”

  I walk in with my mouth hanging open again. “That view.”

  “It’s amazing, right?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Moving inside, I hear the door click behind me and head for the windows. With my hands pressed to the glass, I can see the Statue of Liberty and for miles beyond. Whipping back to him, I s
ay, “You must do very well to afford that view.”

  Chuckling, he replies, “I do. Let me show you around.”

  I marvel at the kitchen and how open everything is. “Birgit would love this kitchen.” Wobbling my head, I add, “Gerhart would hate it.” It’s an inside joke, but Hutton’s sweet enough to laugh. “Show me the bedroom.”

  “Happily.”

  I’m led into the master bedroom and look around. Cool grays and dark navy accent the white sheets and pillows. “That’s the largest bed I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to climb into it.”

  Scooping me into his arms, he carries me to the bed, and says, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  I’m dropped with a bounce on the mattress. Being very un-princess-like, I sprawl my arms and legs out. “Now this is heaven.”

  Jumping on top of me, he shakes his head. “No, heaven is having you here with me.”

  “I love you, Hutton Everest.”

  “I love you, Ally Edwards.”

  “Guess I’m back to my old alias.”

  “You’re in New York. That means you can be whoever you want to be.”

  Mrs. Everest has a nice ring to it, but so does Queen Arabelle of Brudenbourg. I have no real idea what my future will now be, but whether here or there, I need to see if I can reconcile the two lives together. My life makes sense with Hutton in it, and I will do anything it takes to keep him there.

  24

  Hutton

  I expect to see Ally when I walk in from my errands. When I don’t, I set the flowers on the kitchen island and call her name. After sleeping for hours, I got up to grab a pizza and picked up flowers for her along the way.

  “Ally?” She was restless when I got up, but now I’m met with silence. I head to the bedroom, hoping my girl was able to get some more sleep.

  My steps are quick, but stop altogether when I find her asleep in the bed, curled on her side and hugging a pillow like it’s me. It should be. I slip off my shoes and undress as I maneuver to the bed. Climbing under the covers, I move so I can wrap myself around her.

  As the sleep wears off, she says, “Jet lag is a bitch.”