“She won't be,” I snap. Closing my eyes, I massage the bridge of my nose while taking three deep breaths. “But for her safety and Taeler's, we need you to step back. Give off the impression that you're dropping the case. We'll… we'll figure out how to get the information without Birmingham or Whit knowing.” I shoot a quick look at Tank.
Sam also looks at Tank, then me. “What am I missing?”
“She has some friends,” Tank admits reluctantly. “Friends who can help us get the information and who won't leak the fact that we're still looking into his illegal dealings.”
“Then why didn't she go to these ‘friends’ in the first place?” Sam's eyes narrow. Smart man. He knows something’s up.
“She mentioned it before to you. It’s not the most legal of avenues and might not hold up in court.” I sigh. Fuck, I'm tired. My focus goes to the stairs, following the path Randi took minutes ago. “But it might be enough for that not to matter.”
“Of course it’ll matter,” Sam counters. “If we take the evidence to the House, it has to—”
“What if we don't?” I muse. Thoughts swirl, pieces fitting into place. “What if we gather enough to intimidate him?”
Sam's brows rise up his forehead.
Fuck, I have to give it to the guy. At least he's not like the rest of the men in this town, all Botoxed out. “He told Randi it's too late to go back, that things are set in motion. What if it's worse than what we're thinking? We already know he's pulling several Middle East countries into this as a front to what he's causing. Maybe that's what he was referencing, or maybe it’s worse.”
Sam nods absentmindedly as he focuses on the floor, his fingers swiping across the dark stubble on his chin. “It would have to be completely heinous for him to step down without a true impeachment.”
“Knowing that fucker and Whit, I'm sure it is.”
“We already have proof he put a hit on Randi,” Tank adds.
“This way we don't have to worry about getting enough votes in the House and Senate for the impeachment,” Sam says, seeming lost in his own thoughts.
“Exactly. It could be the only way to make it work.”
“What about Whit, then?” Tank asks. “He made it sound like he's still hurting her somehow, and I'm willing to bet it has something to do with those headaches she's been getting since the initial poisoning.”
“Agreed,” I say, beginning to pace the small area. My fingers tremble with excess energy.
“If what she shared on the way here is exactly as it happened, it sounds like Birmingham wasn't the one who plotted the initial poisoning anyway.” We all stand in silence until Sam speaks up again. “And if all this works out, she’ll move up to the president role, which means she'll have an even bigger target on her back. Are you two prepared for that when you can’t even figure out how he's hurting her now?”
I take a menacing step toward the fucker, but Tank's arm lashes out, smacking across my heaving chest.
“Yes, she'll be safe. And we'll figure out how he's still poisoning her.” He shoots a concerned look at me.
“I'm doing this for her,” Sam says, looking straight into my eyes. I bristle at the challenge behind the stare. “I'll back off the case—for now. But don't expect me to stay away, not when she's in danger because of what I've dragged her into. If you need anything from the DOJ office, just let me know.” With that, he nods to Tank and turns to the front door.
Only once the door is shut behind him and it's just me and Tank do I let the worry and fear for Randi sink in.
“What are we going to do?” I ask, pacing the small foyer once again. I feel like a caged animal. So much needs to be done, to be handled, but instead I'm standing here doing nothing.
The phone in my pocket vibrates for what feels like the hundredth time in the last few hours. I slide it out and glance at the screen, already knowing who it’ll be.
“She's getting clingy,” Tank remarks with a tilt of his head toward the phone in my hand.
I grunt in acknowledgment. “She keeps telling me she feels like someone is following her. That she's scared.”
He arches a brow. “Not like you to just ignore something like that.”
I shake my head. “Normally I wouldn't. You know that. But this feels fishy. It just all of a sudden happened out of the blue. My gut is telling me she's making it up and using it as a way to get me to come around more.”
“Well, she is your fiancée,” he says with a chuckle.
“Shut your damn mouth,” I say with a smirk. “Not too much longer.”
“Yeah, if your mother has any say in it, she'll be your wife by the end of the year.”
I shudder. “That will not happen.”
“Even if she can help us?”
“Jessica?”
“No, you clown. Your mother. We know she has inside eyes and ears on the team. Maybe we should use it to our advantage instead of trying to eradicate the rat.”
My brows dip as I think through all the different ways what he's suggesting could go wrong. But am I willing to sink deeper into metaphorical debt with my conniving family?
Yes.
Fuck yes.
Every day, yes.
19
Randi
December
Waves crash somewhere in the distance. Taeler screeches in excitement nearby before a loud splash meets my ears. A lazy smile tugs at my lips. Behind my borrowed sunglasses, I keep my eyes closed, knowing there are at least ten agents protecting me in the distance, plus the few standing close. A relaxed sigh passes my lips. Beneath me, the heat from the pool deck seeps up through the lounge chair, keeping me warm even though I'm in a bathing suit and the soft breeze is crisp.
“This is the life,” I say to no one in particular.
Peeking one eye open, I search for my hunky agent. Dressed in shorts, a snug Dryfit shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, and armed to the teeth, he's sexy as hell.
Feeling the weight of my lusty stare, his gaze flicks to me.
“Aren't you glad we made you put the iPad down?”
Okay, yes, there was a little skirmish inside earlier when T and Trey tried to get me to come outside and relax. We've been here three days, and this is the first time I've allowed myself to enjoy the beautiful tropical island. Who could blame me though? I had nothing to compare it to. This is my first vacation… ever. I'm not one to relax anyway, and with everything else going on, it took them basically ripping the iPad out of my hands and pushing me outside to realize what I was missing.
“Maybe,” I grumble, not wanting to admit that they were right in making me leave the house.
Another screech from Taeler has me leaning up on my elbows to peer down to the beach. The sun glistens off the rolling waves. A beat of panic thumps in my chest until her head pops above the water, her wide smile clear from here.
“My view isn't so bad either.”
Dipping my chin, I give my head a shake while Trey grumbles something in exasperation.
“Thanks for the glasses.” I tap a finger against the steel frames.
He shrugs and goes back to scanning the area, giving me another moment to check him out without him noticing. Damn, he's hot. I love his suits, the way they fit him to perfection each and every day, but the shorts showing off his thick calf muscles and strong thighs are a very close second. I lick my lips and bite down on the lower one as I imagine the rest of the goods hidden beneath his clothes.
“My eyes are up here,” Trey says with a deep chuckle.
“Like you care that I'm checking you out.” To prove a point, I lean forward to get a better view of his tight ass.
He shifts, giving me a better angle.
“You two are ridiculous,” T complains.
“You'd be this way too if it’d been weeks since you got to squeeze that hot ass,” I whine. Falling back, I groan and wiggle against the towel. Weeks. Hell, it feels like years. But with everything going on, all the planning and secret meetings, there ha
sn't been enough time or energy for the fun stuff.
But now that we're here….
“Never been tempted, so I wouldn't feel your pain,” T says like he ate something sour.
“Sarah says you can't get enough of hers,” I whisper so only us three can hear.
“Have you seen her fine ass?” He whistles low. “Edible.”
“Ew.” I scrunch my nose in disgust.
“Don't knock it until you've tried it,” T says with a wistful tone.
“No thanks.”
“Can we talk about something else?” Trey grumbles, adjusting his hardening dick in the loose shorts. “Not much I can do to hide this.”
“We could always use it,” I offer.
“Fuck,” they both grumble, one more of disgust and the other of pleasure.
“Sweetie, have you had your daily honey and almond milk?”
Now it's my turn to groan.
Pushing up to my elbows, I dip my chin to peer over the rim of the sunglasses at my mom. Yep, I'm the idiot who thought pulling her mom out of the long-term addiction recovery care center for a family Christmas in Hawaii was a brilliant idea. Don't get me wrong. Things are going great. She's clean. As in vegan clean. Okay, not that clean, but it feels that way considering she used to think an RC and a Twinkie constituted a healthy dinner for a nine-year-old.
Now she's the mother I always wanted but never had. But at thirty-eight.
Doting, comforting, hospitable—hell, she even tried to sing me to sleep last night.
Sing. Me. To. Sleep.
“No, Mom.” I sigh, wiggling to stop the slow throb between my thighs that the sight of Trey's hard cock caused. “I'm good though.”
“Oh no, honey, you're too stressed to skip the honey and milk. I'll go make it and be right back. How about a pomegranate paste to chase it with?”
I nearly throw up the tofu she made me eat last night.
“I'm good,” I rasp, trying to keep the non-food food down. “Just the milk and honey will be great.”
I mirror her wide smile. Yes, she's annoying with the hovering, but seeing her like this, clean and happy, my heart is so full I almost think it could burst.
Until…
“Have you considered your womanly health?”
“Huh?” This is not happening.
“At the center, they've taught us to take care of every inch of our bodies. Including sexual health.”
“Mom, not the time.”
She shakes her head, her limp, mousy hair swishing from one shoulder to the other.
“No, the director says we must treat our bodies as a temple. We've abused our bodies—”
I hold up a hand, stopping her. “We?”
Her eyes scan the area like she’s searching for answers. It dawns on me then that she doesn't mean anything by it; she’s just a little confused.
“Mom.” I sit up, wrapping my forearms around my shins. The two guys make some lame excuse to step out of hearing distance. I make a mental note to hug them for that later. I pat the end of the lounge chair, urging Mom to sit. “I didn’t get to this role by sleeping my way to the top.”
A blank stare is her only response. Okay, different angle, then.
“You know I went to law school, right? You remember that part.”
She nods.
“You know the president, Kyle Birmingham?”
She shakes her head.
“Okay, well, he's the president, and I went to school with him. It's how I'm the VP now. Nothing shady or illegal going on for me to be in this role.”
“Ma'am.” I turn my attention to Champ, who's walking with a purpose from the massive house we rented out. “The call you’ve been waiting on is on hold.”
Normally my admin or secretary or someone else would let me know about phone calls, not an agent, but these days security is tight. We can't let anyone outside of the people we trust know what I'm doing behind the scenes. So only me, T, Trey and Champ. Not even Taeler knows what's really going on. Her only focus is that I've finagled it for her to study in Oxford this next semester instead of being on the why I went to so much effort to get her accepted with zero notice. Hopefully the fruit basket I sent the prime minister was enough of a thank you.
“Oh, and Mom.” Her light eyes turn up to mine. “If you ever see the president, Kyle Birmingham, or if anyone comes to the rehab facility looking for you who’s not me or one of these guys standing around me… I want you to run. Slip away and run as fast as you can.”
With a confused look, she nods, nibbling on her lower lip. “Thanks.” I pat her still too thin thigh and stand with a groan.
“If your muscles ache, I can get some essential oils…”
I stride away before she's done explaining the concoction of pricy oils she’ll make me slather on later. I shiver. As long as she doesn't try to rub it on herself. Now, Trey on the other hand….
I sneak a glance over my shoulder and smile.
“Do I even want to know?” Trey asks.
I shake my head.
“At least we know your mom talking about sexual health is one quick way to make a hard-on vanish.”
A snort escapes as I snag the phone from Champ's outstretched hand and hold it to my ear. “This is Randi.”
“Madam VP.”
Vlad's monotone voice snaps me into work mode. This is the call I've been waiting for the last twenty-four hours. Everything is in place; now we just need the Russian president’s help in securing the needed information to follow through with the plan. Okay, the semi-plan. Eh, more of a rough sketch of future events we hope will fall into place.
So really, no plan.
“Is this line secure?”
“As secure as it can be,” I respond, knowing full well the team has taken the necessary precautions for this important call.
“Tomorrow we talk.”
I nod even though he can't see me.
He rattles off an address that I quickly jot down on a nearby notepad. Without a goodbye or “see you soon,” the line goes dead. The smooth screen peels from my cheek, sticky with sweat from the humid island weather. The tip of the pen taps against the notepad as I flick it up and down, staring at the address.
“It's a park,” T says behind me. A quick look up shows him scowling at his phone. “If we hadn't already met this guy, I'd say hell no, too many vulnerable points.”
“But we have, and we’re going,” I say, my focus on the mosaic tile decorating the outdoor bar stool top.
A calloused hand rubs against the exposed skin of my lower back, dragging my deep thoughts from the millions of possibilities that could come up in the meeting to the breathtaking man beside me. A happy smile pulls at my lips. “He'll have access to the information we need, right?”
Trey nods, his eyes searching. No doubt he’s taking in the tight features of my face which give away the layers of stress building beneath my skin and stuffing every corner of my mind.
“I’m sure he will. In Chile, he said you should come to him when we wanted the truth.” A deep line forms between his brows. “It's almost like he knew this would happen.”
“No,” I say in dismay. “There's no way he knew all this would come to a head like it has.” Doubt sinks in even though my words ring true. “Right?”
The slick fabric of his shirt presses against my sweaty back as he steps closer. Leaning forward, he slides his lips across the shell of my ear, causing a delicious shiver to zap down my spine.
“I have something planned for tonight,” he whispers. I close my eyes, focusing on the building heat low in my belly. This is the fire Taeler was talking about last month. His close proximity can set my hormones ablaze.
“What is it?” I ask, my breathless words giving away the heat pulsing through my core.
“Dinner.”
My eyes pop open. Angling my head back, I search his intense gaze. “Dinner? You're still fake engaged, remember?”
He slowly nods. “Which is why what I have planned will ha
ppen here, just us.” His gaze cuts away as he chews on his plump lower lip. This sudden shift from confident Trey to vulnerable catches me by surprise.
“What's wrong?”
“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his long dark hair. My attention follows the motion.
“You need a haircut.”
“Will you go on a date?”
I raise my brows. “A date.”
Trey clears his throat. “With me. Tonight.”
I chuckle at his stammering. “Trouble,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I think we're past that part of this”—I motion between us—“don't you?”
He shakes his head, determination now steeling his features. “Never. I never want to take what we have for granted, Mess. Plus, this would count as our first date.”
Chewing on my thumbnail, I think back. “New York?”
“If you think a street vendor hot dog and almost getting mugged constitutes a date, then I need to raise your expectations. Tonight, Mess.” Again he leans close. This time his dark stubble scrapes across my cheek as he slides a kiss to the corner of my lips.
Before I can deepen the chaste kiss, he pulls back with a cocky-ass smirk.
“Tease,” I mutter. “Any particular time?”
“Eight. And wear something you don't mind getting sandy.”
Excitement bursts through, chasing away the earlier longing. “What are you planning?”
His eyes trail down my nearly naked body and back up again. And just like that, with one look, the excitement is blasted away with a burst of desire so strong I have to squeeze my thighs together to quell the throbbing between them.
“A gentleman never divulges his secrets. But I will tell you one delicacy that's on the menu.”
“What?”
“You.”
“Cut it out, you two,” T barks. Trey steps back, allowing the cool ocean breeze to flow between us, freshening my heated skin. “Benson, go secure the package that just arrived.”
I watch his fine ass as he marches away.
Power Switch: Power Play Series Book 3 Page 19