Page 6 of Protecting his Secrets

Writing the positive side of the event soothed his soul but made him feel no better about what he’d already done. The stress of his job didn’t help his health, and insomnia was a friend he wished wasn’t so faithful.

When he was done, he slumped back in his seat but smiled. He wouldn’t release this version until after the other reporters had released their own. He’d need to check that he counteracted any of their remarks as well. Before he finished, he checked his emails, unsurprised to find one from someone who had been in his inbox many times over the past few weeks. They seemed to enjoy his Malachi articles, and often commended him on his choice of words and commiserated that the country was beholden to the royal family. Fans were everywhere, and he responded to some emails from them, but that one… Somethingwas off about him, though he’d spoken to him several times as a source, he still emailed in after every article was published.

After checking the clock, he switched his computer off and headed for the door, and by the time he arrived at his grandmother’s house, he’d relaxed somewhat. The underlying tension from his first article wouldn’t disappear for hours, but he needed his family right then.

“Kai!” his mother said, dragging him into her arms when she reached him. He stumbled with one shoe on and the other half off.

“Hey, Mum. How are you?”

Emily pulled back. “I’m good.” She cupped his cheek, tracing beneath his eyes with her finger. “You look tired again.”

He tried for a smile. “I’m okay. I promise.” He changed the subject. “Anyone else here yet?”

“We beat you here, loser!” Zara called from the region of the kitchen.

“Zara!” Their grandmother went off in a tirade of German, which none of them could understand fluently, but no one could mistake the telling-off tone of her voice.

“Yes, Grandma,” Zara said as Malachi entered the kitchen. She probably had no idea what Sally had been saying, but they knew not to argue.

“Kai!” Sally enveloped him, and he clung to her, closing his eyes and breathing in his grandmother’s scent. Whatever it was soothed him time and again. “You need to stop this, Kai. It’s destroying you,” she whispered.

“Not long left.” He pulled back and smiled. “I visited the hospital today. They were talking about blood donors and how they always needed more people to donate. It’s something to consider.”

He settled at the dining table while his mother bustled around. She was someone who enjoyed taking care of her familyand wouldn’t let anyone help. Except when it came to setting the table and making drinks for everyone. Oh, and washing up afterwards. Those chores were down to the kids.

“Have you finished being mean to the royal family yet?” Ben, his brother, asked.

Malachi shook his head and pursed his lips. “Not yet. Soon, though.”

“I don’t know why you let him control you like you do. There are other jobs available.”

It was an argument they regularly had. “There aren’t as many journalist jobs as you think. Everything hinges on who you know. Reputation is everything in this job, and if I can just finish this contract out, I’ll be home free.”

“You hope,” Ben countered.

Malachi didn’t answer because it was something that scared the hell out of him. Yes, contractually, he didn’t have to work for the Windsor Chronicle at the end of the following year, but what was stopping him from making his life hell and blackmailing him into working for him longer? Malachi would do everything in his power to keep his family safe, healthy and to keep food on the table, but Tucker was capable of a lot of things Malachi chose to ignore. After all, if he ignored them, they weren’t happening. He didn’t need any more burdens on his shoulders.

“Enough work talk,” Sally said. “Ben, any luck in the romance department?”

Thankful for the distraction, he joined in with ribbing Ben about his lack of luck with girls. It would turn on him eventually, but he didn’t mind. As long as they weren’t focused on how he was destroying his soul, he could weather anything.

Sharp assessing eyes flitted through his head, followed by a turned-down mouth and creased forehead. Malachi shook the image away. He couldn’t think about that bodyguard now because every time he did, his body fought between cold andhot. Cold because those eyes could spear anyone with hatred, and hot because the man was sex personified. It hadn’t been that long ago that Malachi had stared at the screen with a dawning sense of horror as he watched the king’s assassination attempt where too many bodyguards were killed or hurt, including Nick Tennant. One particular camera had caught Nick slamming to the ground and blood pouring from his wounds as his head hit the pavement and he stopped moving.

At the time, Malachi had thought he was dead, and he’d been barely able to breathe himself, but the news had reported him alive. Unlike some of his colleagues. He wished he’d been able to say something to them, but the only thing he could do was allow his alter-ego to send his sympathies to them.

One day, he might be able to face them without dreading the hatred that would no doubt be on their faces.

One day, he would be able to hold his head up high and say he didn’t write that crap.

One day, he could make amends for what he’d done.

****

Chapter 3

Nick

Is Prince Frederick the right heir for the job?

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