“Hello, son. How are things?”
Felix settled into an armchair to the left of his father and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Same old, really. Need to decide on a birthday gift for Prince Christian, but nothing else pressing.” His father didn’t want to know about the issues surrounding his job.
“If only that was the big problem I had to deal with in the Army.” He shook his head. “But he’s an Army lad himself, isn’t he?”
“He is.”
“Hmm. Maybe I can think of something that will fit him.”
Felix’s eyebrows rose. “That would be…good, thanks.” He hadn’t expected that, though he had no idea what he might end up suggesting.
“He might like something for that dog of his. If he trained him well enough, he would be an asset to them.”
Felix didn’t argue the point that Oreo already was an asset just by being a goofy dog who loved to play when Oscar was a little. His father wouldn’t understand. His mother might’ve understood years ago, but now she was a shell of her former self. And he hated to see it.
“Here you go,” Ruby said, handing him a plate. “And here’s your coffee, Stephen, honey.”
“Thanks,” they said.
Few words were said as Felix ate, but his mind raced in all directions. He didn’t mind spending time with his parents, but he would’ve preferred to have been with Uncle Frank. His father’s brother had always taken an interest in Felix, especially when Stephen was away at work. As a young boy, Felix had spent many an hour at his uncle’s house, learning how to handleguns and treat them with care and attention. Once he had learnt that, Uncle Frank had taken him shooting. Aiming for bottles in a large field was a favourite pastime of theirs. Jump forward several years, and Felix had become something of a prodigy. But Frank kept the information to himself. He told Felix it was because Stephen would use him as a weapon instead of treating him as a son, and that wasn’t on.
Felix hadn’t minded keeping the secret. It was nice to have something that was just his, so he kept practising. And even after Frank died when he was hit by a parent distracted by their kids in the back seat, Felix continued their tradition. It was something he had never put on his resume anywhere because he never planned to use it. But when his work friends and family were targeted, he found a way to help. He just didn’t want anyone to know.
Until recently.
Some secrets were necessary, some weren’t. And the day had come for his to be exposed, even if it was only between a few people.
“A military crest coaster,” Stephen said suddenly. “I’ve seen them around. I think they’re made from slate. They look good.”
Felix stared at him. “That’s a really good idea.” He didn’t mean to sound shocked, but he was. His father wasn’t known for his great gift ideas. “Thanks.”
Stephen nodded but kept his eyes on the TV. They stayed in silence until his mum called for them, and then they settled into their usual seats while Ruby dished up. Felix watched as she plated Stephen’s food first, then Felix’s and then got their drinks and condiments before serving herself once she knew they were both okay. Many times in the past, he had tried to help her, but his father had refused to let him. It was “women’s work,” and she didn’t need them “interfering.” Felix didn’t agree, but he’d received far too many “reminders” about how to behave. Thoughhe could easily take his father down now, Ruby had taken him aside one night several years ago and told him that she was happy and not to rock the boat. Felix had taken her at her word and had promised not to intervene unless he saw she was hurt or about to be. She agreed reluctantly, but he wished she could see what was happening to her. Emotional and mental abuse were just as bad as the physical kind.
Regardless, one day, hopefully, she would have the strength to leave his father. She deserved so much more than what she had right then.
“It’s delicious. Thanks, Mum,” Felix said, the one concession his father had allowed him when Felix had argued the point that manners cost nothing.
“Hmm,” his father agreed in his non-vocal way.
Ruby beamed and dug into her food, happy with the knowledge that they were being fed and she could eat. No way was Felix ever treating anyone the way his father treated his mother. No way. But it was her life.
He turned his attention to the idea his father had given him. A slate military crest coaster. That would be a great gift for a man who had been in the Army and loved hot drinks. He might get something for Oscar as well, so they matched. He’d have to think about that. Hopefully, they wouldn’t take too long because he only had a few days. He frowned. Shit, it was tomorrow! Maybe the coaster could be a wedding gift instead.
What had Brett bought them? Or had he bought anything? It would surprise Felix if he hadn’t because his boss was a very conscientious person and would be distraught if he hadn’t done what society dictated. In other ways, Brett couldn’t care less, but he was always careful in social situations. Follow the rules and he would never be on the wrong end of a gun.
Felix almost chuckled out loud at that thought. It was a load of bullshit. He’d lost count of how many times he’d had a gunpointed at him by that point in his career—and that didn’t include the times when he was younger and was training in sharpshooting. Who held the record for that? It was something to research. But what would his search terms be? Who had a gun pointed at them the most? No idea how many results that would hold, and he didn’t think it would be in the Guinness World Records.
****
Chapter 4
Brett
Brett held the neck of the beer bottle and lifted it to his lips. He wasn’t a huge drinker, but it was a celebration, and he wanted to let loose a little, if only to show his men that it was okay to do so. Some of them still thought being invited to the royal family’s events was a test they had to pass. It wasn’t. It was the Sutcliffes being the Sutcliffes.
And Christian being Christian, he’d opted for a quiet, leisurely dinner and drinks in the receiving room at Windsor Castle. Soft melodies played, which, if Brett wasn’t mistaken, was a recording of some of Patrick’s music, including the children he taught in some of them. Patrick’s confidence in teaching had skyrocketed over the years, and he was now enjoying regular clients who were not there for the popularity stakes, unlike some of the first people who came forward for lessons.
As for Christian, though, he fully supported Patrick in his music, often recommending his versions to people. He was a huge cheerleader for his fellow family members, no matter what they were interested in. Which was what he was doing right then. Sitting across from him, he listened as Christian smiled and encouraged Henry as they spoke about history, something Henry was interested in. At no point did Christian make it seem like he was bored or fed up with hearing about it.