by Lee Taylor
Although Gia repeatedly cautioned their excited staff that the campaign was just beginning and there was no telling what issues would arise in the next month and a half, she couldn’t hide her excitement. And her relief. They had known that a competent political rival would make her and Logan’s involvement a campaign issue, and an ugly one at that. After all, the relationship between the beautiful candidate and her mega-rich funder was ripe for salacious gossip. The fact that Gia and Logan, wisely as it turned out, hadn’t tried to hide their relationship had proved to be a brilliant strategy. All because of the drunken ineptitude of her hapless rival.
She and Ben were sitting with Logan and Syl, reviewing the data Syl and his team had collected on the response to their initial campaign strategy. Given their previous experience with countless candidates and campaigns, Ben and Gia couldn’t hide their excitement. Ben summed it up. “Honest to God, Logan, and especially you, Syl, in all the campaigns Gia and I have run, we would have been screaming with excitement at the positive press we are receiving. And it isn’t only the coup Gia and Logan pulled off with their star-sized relationship. God, the chattering class is actually beginning to focus on our positions. Hell, if they’re not careful, they will start treating Gia as if she is a serious candidate, not merely a gorgeous babe with a super-hot guy.”
“Which is precisely what she is.” Logan was serious, but even he couldn’t hide the gleam in his eyes. “I know I should be careful not to assume that we will always be in this position. In fact, it is a given that we have a long road ahead of us. But I gotta tell you, Gus Underwood has literally done what should have taken us weeks and a ton of money to achieve. We owe him our thanks. Overnight, he made it an accepted fact that Gia isn’t only a beautiful woman but she is a serious and potentially winning candidate. A heck of a place to be a week after she declared.”
At that moment, the door flew open and a white-faced, wide-eyed Kaila burst into the room. “Quick, Gia, Ben, turn on the television. You . . . oh my God . . . you aren’t going to believe this . . . believe what Gus is doing.”
Ben grabbed the remote. “Which channel?”
Kaila raised her hands and shook her head in dismay. “It doesn’t matter which one. He . . . they are on all of them.”
Staring in disbelief at the screen, Gia sucked in an audible breath. A serious-looking Gus Underwood was responding to the reporter’s question. Gia almost didn’t hear the question or Gus’s response. She was horrified to see that Gus wasn’t alone. In addition to Stewart Reed, who was standing to one side of him, a grave expression stamped on his frowning face, a young woman stood to Gus’s other side. It took Gia a long moment to acknowledge that the trembling, wide-eyed teenager was Sissy Blankenship.
At that moment, the eager reporter had turned to the young woman and, making an effort to quell the obvious excitement he was feeling, used his question to confirm who she was.
“I know this is challenging for you, Ms. Blankenship, but if you will forgive me, I need to explain to our audience who might not know who you are. Everyone knows the Aiden Maxwell campaign that Gia Tremaine was managing came to an abrupt halt when it was revealed that Mr. Maxwell, a twenty-eight-year-old man, had accosted you—a sixteen-year-old volunteer in his campaign. Shortly after that hideous announcement, Mr. Maxwell’s campaign fell apart. Interestingly, a week later Ms. Tremaine chose to run for the seat that her candidate had disgraced.”
Before the excited reporter could continue, Stewart Reed stepped forward. “I trust that everyone who is watching this remarkable interview is aware that Ms. Blankenship was the victim of a hideous crime. A crime that Ms. Tremaine admitted took place on her watch. Which, sir, is why we have come before you today. While everyone knows that Gia Tremaine surprised the political world by jumping into the campaign that her former candidate, and I might add, Ms. Tremaine’s fiancé, disgraced, this young woman has information that we all need to hear.”
Gia barely felt Logan beside her. Much later, she acknowledged that there was no way that she could have remained standing if Logan hadn’t wrapped her in his strong arms. It was hard enough to breathe, much less make sense of what she was hearing. With the help of the persistent reporter and Stewart Reed essentially explaining each of the claims that the shaky young woman was uttering, Gia acknowledged that her campaign was over. There was no way that she could survive this body blow. Frankly, there was no way that she could ever show her face again. It was hard enough to breathe.
“Just to be clear, Ms. Blankenship, I need to ensure that I understand you correctly. You just said that you hold Ms. Tremaine responsible for the fact that her fiancé raped you.” The reporter breathed out a hard sigh when the young woman nodded and said in a halting voice, “Yes, that is what I’m saying. Because it is true. Aiden, Mr. Maxwell, told me that Gia said that all of us young women were free game . . . that was part of being a young woman on a political campaign. That was how it had always been since she was a young girl working on her father’s campaigns.”
Gia later conceded that if it hadn’t been for Logan, there was no way their campaign could have survived or that she could have endured the assault to her psyche and her pride. The moment the hideous news flashed across the screen, Logan went into strategic mode. With the arrival of Elliott Lockhart and Paul Davis and the subsequent arrival of Max Sheldon and a barely coherent Jerry Riley, Logan ruled the discussion. Never releasing her from his hold, he barked out orders that every member of the quickly arriving team followed without question. In addition, he rattled off a series of orders for the shell-shocked campaign staff. After a quick conversation with Syl, he assigned Ben a list of key reporters to contact immediately. He gave Elliott the task of writing a news release, which he quickly edited and then released to the media. The statement, ostensibly from Gia, expressed her shock at Sissy’s account. She indicated that it was patently false, and it clearly had been engineered by the Underwood campaign. She indicated that she would meet with the media the following morning at 9:00 a.m. to respond to the egregious claims. In the meantime, she begged the reporters to remember that the young girl was literally a teenager and her privacy should be preserved—not exploited.
Little by little, Gia managed to shake herself out of her horror and began to feel the fury that would soon overtake her and allow her to respond to the hideous lies. Jamal and Clint appeared and told the astonished group what they had discovered. Apparently, Sissy Blankenship and her family had received a windfall of cash that, according to Jamal, was in the mid-six figures. It was clearly to reward her for taking the difficult step to tell the world “what had really happened.” Responding to Logan’s rapid fire questioning, Jamal indicated that at least at this point, he couldn’t confirm a matching deduction from Stewart Reed’s accounts or from Franklin Maxwell’s accounts. While Logan was convinced that ultimately they would confirm that Reed or his cohorts made the payment, he didn’t rule out Franklin Maxwell’s involvement. Knowing that Franklin Maxwell, Aiden’s father, would support Sissy’s claims, doing anything they could to throw the blame on Gia and take it off his son, Logan prepared for the possibility of his involvement.
Doing her best to reassure the young campaign staff, many of whom were in tears, Gia saw Logan talking with Max and Jerry, soon joined by Elliott and Paul. Seeing the intensity of their conversation, she later declared that she should have known that something was up when Logan broke from the group and approached her.
Striding toward her, he reached for her arm and pulled her up next to him. His voice was curt, his expression firm. “I think we need a change of scenery, Gia. I asked Jamal to bring me a car. We need to get you away from this place for a couple of hours.”
Gia shook her head, insisting that she couldn’t leave the team. Minutes later, she admitted that she was relieved when Logan ignored her and led the way to the garage.
Chapter 30
Expertly maneuvering the racy sports car with the dark-tinted windows through the hordes of unsuspect
ing media, Logan headed onto the freeway. It took Gia several long moments to break out of her shell-shocked state to know that Logan wasn’t taking her to their condo as she’d assumed he would.
“Where are we going, Logan?” Recovering some of her political instincts, she frowned at him. “Do you really think we should leave the group now? Good God, the only reason most of them are still standing is because of you.” She added with an embarrassed snort, “It’s obvious if it had been up to me, the entire team would have melted in a puddle of hysterical recriminations.” Seeing his intense expression and realizing that they were driving farther out of town, she added with a frown, “That said, where the heck are we going, Logan?”
He was quiet for a long moment. Not taking his eyes off the road, he said carefully, “Gia, we have a special source who apparently has damaging information on Gus Underwood. According to Max and Jerry, it’s evidence that will bring the fucker down. But whether or not we use his information is up to you. It is your decision.”
“I . . . I don’t understand, Logan. Who has it and what do they have?” When he didn’t respond, then turned a familiar corner and drove onto the spur highway, an amalgamation of sensations flooded her suddenly aware body. She wasn’t surprised when she shrieked, “No! Absolutely not.” Grabbing his arm, she struggled with the steering wheel, trying to wrench it from his grip. “No! Goddamn you, Logan, no! I told you that I will never speak to my father again, much less accept help from him.” Swiping at the tears streaming down her cheeks, she clung to his arm, gratified when he pulled over and stopped the car. Whirling on him, she gave in to her fury. “How dare you, Logan? How dare you think that you can overrule me? On something as critical as this? You know how I feel about my father. You know what he’s done to me. How can you think that I would accept help from him? Jesus God, I won’t speak to him, much less allow him into our campaign.”
When she sank back against the seat, apparently thinking she’d convinced him, she was shocked when he started the car and then pulled into the driveway leading to the prison. Arrowing into a parking spot, he turned off the engine and faced her. She refused to acknowledge the concern underlying his stern expression.
He reached for her hand, not allowing her to pull it away. “I apologize for misleading you, Gia. You have stated emphatically that you will not rely on your father ever again. I fully intended to respect your wishes. Unfortunately, Gus, and more important, his reprehensible team have made it impossible for me to ignore the potential help your father can provide.” Tightening his grip on her hands, he pinned her with an intense gaze. “I understand how strongly you feel. I truly do. If anyone knows the damage your reprobate father has done to you, particularly to your spirit, it is me.”
Her voice shook with emotion as she tearfully appealed to him. “Then why, Logan, why?” Snatching her hands free, she waved at the gray stone prison. Glaring at the looming edifice, she reiterated the vow she’d made the last time she saw her father. “Damn you. I promised myself I would never go in that hideous place again except to claim my father’s remains when he blessedly died or, better yet, was murdered in prison.” Her voice was shrill, demanding. “If you say you understand how strongly I feel, why . . . why are you doing this?”
Blowing out a hard sigh, Logan shrugged. “Because, Gia, it is essential that we take Gus Underwood down. This latest attack confirms what my team has been uncovering. On his own, Gus is a non-entity. A mere scrap of garbage in an enormous landfill of infamy. He’s not worth the trouble of a second glance. Unfortunately, it has become clear to me that he is backed by a powerful cabal of major players who are determined to win and, even more important, determined to take you down in the process.”
He opened his door and said over his shoulder as he got out of the car, “As I said before, I understand why you feel as strongly as you do. From the beginning, you insisted that you will not accept your father’s involvement in your campaign. I am honoring that. Whether we go with the information your father has—as critical as it is—will be your decision.”
Closing the car door behind him, Logan strode to the gate and nodded to the guards. Shaking his head, indicating that he wasn’t ready to enter, he stood to the side and leaned back against the fence. He waited for a full five minutes before expelling a hard sigh, acknowledging that he may have overplayed his hand. Or, more likely, he had underestimated the damage that Gia’s father had done to her. When he was about to concede that she’d won the standoff, her door opened. Seeing Gia stomping toward him, her head held high, Logan blew out a hard sigh. He reminded himself what a piece of work his inimitable lover was. Declaring how very much he loved her, he pledged once again that he would never let anyone hurt her. That included the powerful man waiting for them inside the prison.
“Good evening, Agent Fowler.” The stern guard turned to Gia and added, “And to you, Ms. Tremaine. I’m glad to see you again.” Apparently not cowed by Gia’s fearsome scowl, the stocky man added, “I know your father will be grateful that you have come.”
Shocked at the guard’s familiar greeting to Logan that confirmed the hideous truth, Gia stopped short. Fully determined to shake off Logan’s firm grip and flee from the dreadful place, she was startled when instead she leaned against him. Swallowing past the basketball-sized lump in her throat that was making it hard to swallow, much less speak, she managed to croak, “You . . . you’ve been here.” Glaring at the back of the guard leading the way, she added, “They . . . they know you. Know who you are.” Even as she assaulted him with her discovery, she acknowledged that the guard’s use of Logan’s special operative title confirmed how little she actually knew about the daunting man beside her.
“Yes, Gia, I have been here before. In fact, I have met with your father several times. I did so when it became obvious to me, and others I trust, that Gus Underwood was much more dangerous than I first believed. In truth, if I had understood the extent of the cadre supporting him, I doubt that in good conscience I would have encouraged you to enter the race.” He blew out a hard sigh. “But I did, and for better or worse, you are now in the position of being the one person most able to stop a vicious cabal of international criminals from taking over our election.” Meeting her shocked gaze, he added, “For that reason, Gia, you need to decide if you will accept your father’s help.” Pulling her up close to him, he forced her to meet his impassioned gaze. “Please know that no matter what you decide, I will accept your decision.”
Without Logan’s strong arm around her shoulders, it was unlikely that Gia would have made it to the chairs in front of the grated partition. Refusing to raise her head and meet her father’s gaze, she sank onto the chair that Logan pulled out for her. When he moved the other chair next to hers and pulled her close to him, she sucked in a breath, then leaned against him.
The stark silence was broken by an impassioned whisper from behind the grate. It was closer to a sob. “Ah, my a leanbh, my a thaisce. My treasured child. You . . . you came. A leanbh, my a thaisce.”
Swiping at the tears streaming down her cheeks, Gia could only nod. Listening to his outpouring of Irish endearments that had layered their intense relationship over the years, she was overcome by emotion. If it hadn’t been for Logan’s strong arms around her, she was sure she would have crumpled to the floor. As it was, she clung to him, knowing that she couldn’t answer her father. The lump in her throat was much too large to allow for words. To her relief, Logan took over the conversation.
“I trust you know how challenging it was, sir, for Gia to come here tonight. If it wasn’t for the egregious stunt the Underwood campaign engineered, I would never have allowed her to meet with you. As it is, please understand. Your information needs to be as failsafe and as powerful as you have assured me that it is, or you will reap my fury. Which, I’ve been told by battle-hardened Delta Force veterans, is a fate to be avoided at all costs.” He added cuttingly, “In addition, know that I have as many cohorts in this place as you do. The difference is tha
t my resources are all off the books. You would never see them coming . . . or going.”
With that threat hanging in the air, Logan pressed on. “Now please, if you would, tell your daughter the ugly truth you know about that disgusting man Gus Underwood. We need all the specifics. Don’t keep a single ace in the hole, or so help me God, you will regret it for the rest of what will be a short and painful life. We are literally putting the fate of your daughter’s campaign in your hands.” He hesitated, then added, “Also know that unless I personally have verified every one of your claims, we will not use your information. That said, if you would, sir, lay it on us.”
After a lengthy conversation with Logan questioning each of Big Bart’s assertions, insisting on how and where they would find proof, he turned to Gia. “You know your father better than anyone does, Gia. Obviously, if we can document his assertions, Gus Underwood is finished. He will have no choice but to resign in disgrace. Even so, as I told you before, no matter how failsafe the information is, whether we use it or not is up to you. Whatever you decide is the course we will follow.”
As they rose to leave, Bart placed his hand on the grid. His plea was passionate, intense. “Aah . . . mo shiorghra, my beloved daughter. Please. Don’t . . . don’t leave without allowing me to touch you. Please, Gia, swallow your anger . . . just for a moment. Let me feel your hand against mine.”
Gia leaned harder against Logan and then hesitantly raised her hand and pressed it against the forbidding grate. Her father’s grateful sob echoed the one stuck in her throat.
****
Gia turned to face the reporter who had asked the question she was expecting. Tyler Gunderson was a longtime friend of hers, and she knew he was embarrassed but obligated to address the issue that had consumed the frenetic media. Meeting his frowning gaze, she nodded.