“No, you disgusting pig. I have proof of it all,” I snap.
“Of my fat cock? Of course you do. I've fucked half this city.”
“Of the drilling on federal land that you sanctioned for personal gain, the illegal selection of which companies to hire, the offshore bank accounts of those companies which are linked to other companies who supply most of the metal, machinery, and arms to our military . Oh, and let's not forget a few terrorists groups that are also utilizing those funds to attack our allies, forcing us into a battle that we caused. And that's just page fucking one of the shit you’ve gotten us into!”
All humor slides from his face, leaving a cold menacing glimmer in his calculating eyes.
“I see.”
“Do you?” I snap. Reaching up, I fling the twisted napkin onto the table and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I can’t believe you did this. It’s over, Kyle. I know, and there’s nothing you can do to stop this from moving forward. You’ve made your bed, and now you have to lie in it.” I take a slow breath to steady my shaking voice. “You have two options here, Kyle. Step down from the president role effective immediately—you can make up whatever bullshit reason you want—or I officially file this detailed evidence with the Department of Justice, who will kick off the impeachment process.”
His scoff is forced. “It wouldn’t get past the House.”
I cock my head and meet his gaze straight on. “Kyle, when this information is released, impeachment will be the least of your worries. Powerful leaders here in DC would be swept up in the case, their names all over the media. Not only would you have them to worry about, but the American people will know what you've been doing. That their hardships for the past year were all due to your greed. So yeah, you might be right about the House, but it won't matter at that point. You'd be ruined, if not dead.”
I swear the silence in the room has a pulse. My muscles tremble and twitch with anticipation of his response. I swallow past a dry throat and shoot a worried glance at Trey.
As casually as if I'd never said anything at all, Kyle huffs out a laugh. Lips against the rim of a newly filled highball glass, he smiles. “Do you really want to do this, Walmart?” His words are muffled by the glass. “Play with the big boys?”
“You know where I stand with things like this, Kyle. My world is black and white. I wasn't raised in the moralless haze of gray like you. We’re on the verge of war because of the sequence of events you started. Do you really think I’d sit back and just let that happen without a fight?”
“This goes against the contract you signed, if you remember. You will have to pay every last cent back that we spent to help you land this role.”
“I understand.” The sudden urge to pee slams through me. I seal my thighs together to make sure a few nervous drops don't slip out. Because the truth is yes, I’m aware I'll be forced to pay it all back, but how? Well, that’s something I haven't quite figured out.
“And where is this alleged evidence you have against me?” The calm in his voice is scarier than the snakelike grin.
The flash drive I'd asked Trey to hold on to appears next to me. Without looking, I snag it from his extended fingers and place it on the table. Slowly I inch it across the table toward Kyle, the tension tightening with each little push.
Disdain drips from the snarling look Kyle gives the flash drive now resting beside his glass.
“You don't expect me to give you an answer tonight, do you? To step down from the most powerful position in the world based on this supposed evidence?”
I nod. We assumed he’d balk at the presentation of evidence that he hasn’t reviewed.
“I require a decision from you by eight o’clock tomorrow morning. If I don't have your resignation letter in hand at that time, I’ll send that very large file of incriminating evidence to Sam. I don't think I have to tell you how quickly he'll act.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” I question. “You're taking this in stride right now, which is kind of freaking me out.”
“Ah, Walmart. It's easy to be calm when you still hold all the cards.”
“What?” The word is more a pushed breath. I’m still attempting to understand the meaning behind his words when he stands from his seat, towering over the small table. Taking his time buttoning his suit jacket, he straightens his shirt sleeves and gives me a mocking bow.
“Until tomorrow.”
“Eight o’clock, Kyle. I mean it.”
“Or sooner.” I swear he's stifling a haughty laugh.
Two of his agents stride to the door and step through, followed by Kyle and the other three agents right behind them.
“That was cryptic.” I fail to add the lightness to my tone I was going for, the creeping dread from his words keeping the relief I hoped to have after this meeting was done at bay. “What do you think he meant by him holding all the cards?”
The plates rattle against the white tablecloth as I use the table as leverage to scoot the chair back a few inches. Slacks sliding along the smooth wood of the seat, I twist toward the guys. Trey’s typing furiously on his phone while T has his sealed to his ear, both their faces fierce with concentration.
“Hello? Guys?”
“It wasn't cryptic, Mess.” A new wave of panic slams into my chest, stealing my breath when Trey looks up from his phone, fingers still moving across the screen. “It was a damn message.”
Well, fuck.
25
Randi
The thin wooden rods of the wicker rocker press into the exposed skin of my thighs as I tilt back and forth, hoping the relaxing rocking motion will soothe me. An hour ago, we arrived back at One Observatory Circle. An hour and a half has passed since I presented Kyle with the evidence and he responded with his cryptic message.
To my right, Sam stomps up and down the short flight of steps leading to the backyard, his dark brows furrowed in concentration and worry. At my back, Trey and T murmur to each other, their voices too low for me to make out a single word.
And here I am, in this frozen state of panic and worry. Several times over the past hour, I’ve caught myself not breathing at all, having completely forgotten that one necessary function needed to live. I changed out of my earlier suit like a zombie, my mind in a fog of what-ifs. It’s unnerving not knowing what Kyle has planned, because that much was clear earlier. He has one more card to play in this game, and we all have a feeling it’s the trump card none of us can stop.
Before the meeting, we had added to Taeler’s security detail, thinking that would be enough, but now we’ve taken it ten steps further with her and others. In a flurry of phone calls and texts, we've done everything we can possibly do at this point to warn those who we love. Sam’s family is secure, Mom’s rehab facility is on lockdown, and I’ve even had them reach out to the police in Boone to make sure Ben stays safe.
The security around the house is unreal. An agent armed to the teeth stands on guard almost every two feet. There’s no ease in the house, no laughter, everyone knowing to stay hypervigilant.
The final piece we’re waiting on now is Taeler, to confirm they made it to the US embassy in Paris safely.
The all safe call should come through any minute now, but I’ve yet to hear either man’s phone ring or beep with an incoming text. My phone sits eerily quiet atop my lap, all focus absorbed on its blank screen.
“They'll get there, Randi.” I welcome the comforting warmth that seeps from Trey’s hand into my tight shoulder and the strengthening squeeze. “She’s surrounded by trained agents, and they were only an hour outside Paris when we called.”
Those details should offer comfort, but until she's safe in that embassy surrounded by deadly marines protecting her, I can’t stop freaking out.
No one has said it out loud, but without a doubt we’re all thinking the same thing: Kyle had a contingency plan in place in case Sam didn't drop the investigation against him.
The bushes farther down the wraparound porch rustle. Everyon
e tenses, Trey's hand tightening in a protective grip, ready to toss me to safety if needed. Tearing my focus from the phone, I scan the darkened backyard, peering through the shadows for the perceived threat. A shadow shifts as a man steps into the porch light.
Trey's grip loosens as the agent continues his patrol along the border of the property.
Geez, we're all strung tight.
Nine more hours of this breath stealing worry. Nine hours until the deadline I presented Kyle expires. If we can keep our loved ones safe over these next several hours we will be in the clear. There’s not a single doubt in my mind that my guys will keep me safe, and the protection we've put in place for everyone else will hold against any threat.
Just one final piece needs to fall into place. The most valuable and vulnerable piece of them all.
Taeler.
Time slinks by, the minutes like hours and the hours feeling like years as we wait.
And wait.
And wait.
The call that changes everything comes through around one in the morning. Call it motherly instinct, but the moment T's phone rings, I know deep in my gut it isn’t the news we’ve been hoping for. The fact that I remain calm is a testament to the way the VP role has molded me into a somewhat leader. The wicker creaks as I stand, continuing to rock as I step around it to face T. Phone to his ear, his features fall, his dark eyes refusing to meet mine.
Too wrapped up in trying to hear what’s being said on the other side of T’s conversation, I fail to feel the vibrations from my own ringing phone, my body too numb to notice.
“You need to get that,” Trey says, his voice tight.
Fog coats my brain, jumbling his words. Eyes wide, I just blink as a visual sign of my confusion. His lips purse as he searches my face. Careful fingers loosen my grip on the thin metal, peeling it from my hand. After swiping the screen, he presses it to my ear and nods.
Closing my eyes, I focus on Kyle’s voice slithering through the speaker. “You thought you would outplay me. I've been a step ahead in this game, and now you're in a fucking corner. Erase all the evidence, you step down from the VP seat, and your daughter goes free. If you don't, well, what happens next is on you. Checkmate, Walmart.”
The line goes dead.
The sliver of strength I've clung to the past few hours wastes away. My knees buckle, the stained slats of the porch quickly approaching as I fall until I'm caught midair. Legs dangling over one arm, the other secured against my back, Trey holds me close against his heaving chest.
My vision blurs as my eyes dry out from not blinking. Shapes move. My body bounces with each of Trey’s steps, the breeze from the movement brushing along my clammy cheek.
With an almost reverent touch, I'm lowered to the couch. I try to move, but the orders from my brain don't seem to make it to my limbs. A burst of cold settles over my legs and chest before slow warmth cuddles around me. I gaze down at the flannel blanket that was laid over me, hoping it will have the answers I need.
“Did you hear what he wanted?” I hear T ask.
“Her to forget this whole thing happened and step down. Fucking hell, Davis. What have we done?”
Maybe if I just ignore everything and everyone around me, everything will go back to the way it was this morning. If I just close my eyes, I'll wake up and find all this was a dream.
My eyes burn as my lids scrape down, fluttering before opening wide once again.
Nope. Not a dream.
The couch cushion dips under Trey’s weight as he perches on the edge by my hip.
“They were minutes from the embassy when they were attacked.”
My neck creaks in protest as I shake my head, silently begging him to stop.
“So far there are four casualties.” This time the shake of my head shifts the long strands of hair resting over my shoulder. “Five injuries, and one missing.”
I lock eyes with Trey. The pain and concern on his normally happy features somehow makes all this real.
“No,” I rasp. “I don't believe you.”
“Mess,” he chokes out. An arm snakes around my back and hauls me close. Lips press against the crown of my head. “We'll find her. I swear on my life that we will find her unharmed.”
“How? She's my baby. I can't lose her,” I croak, the words burning my throat. Guilt slams into my chest, stealing my breath. “I'm doing it, everything he asked. That's how we get her back. That's what he said. He said she would be safe if I just did what he asked.”
“I can't let you do that.” The fine material of Trey's suit jacket sticks to my forehead as I peel back to find Sam standing in the corner. “You know I can’t.”
“Get out,” Trey grits out. “Now!” he bellows.
Sam doesn't move. “I file no matter what at eight. I'm sorry, Randi, I really am, but you're thinking as a mother, not as the VP. I'm making the call for you.”
I track his movements until he's out of the room.
“I just killed my daughter,” I whisper. I slide my pleading gaze to Trey. He blanches and shoots a worried glance to T, who paces the room.
“We need you to call the French president,” T says as he storms from one side of the room to the other in quick clips. “We need to get as many agents on the ground in Paris to search for her as we can. I doubt they’ll take her far.”
The words filter through with a vague recognition that he needs me to do something.
T's mouth opens, ready to continue with his plan, when shock registers on his face and his steps slow before stopping altogether. He holds his wrist up to his lips. “Who the hell did you say is here?” T’s face flashes red. Trey bolts off the couch, the quick movement rocking me into the thick cushions.
I open my mouth to ask what’s going on, but they’re already across the room, creating a human wall between me and the only exit.
“What are you doing here?” The anger and hate dripping from Trey's words perks my attention. Sitting up a little straighter, I lean one way and then the other to see who the hell they’re talking to. Hope blooms in my chest. If it's Kyle, maybe he's here to tell us where Taeler is. My jagged nails scrape the soft leather as I struggle to sit up, the blanket wrapping around my legs.
My knees wobble with each step I take toward the arguing men.
Gripping Trey's jacket, I use him for support as I step to his side. The building hope dies, leaving a desolate emptiness in my heart at finding Shawn's near black eyes focused on me instead of Kyle's ice blue ones.
“Trailer.”
“Get. Out.” Trey wraps an arm around my waist, hauling me back until I'm safely behind the two men once again.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Shawn tsks. “I think she'll want to hear what I have to say. Considering it's her daughter’s life on the line.”
I stumble around Trey, nearly falling into Shawn's chest until Trey steadies me.
“What did you just say?” I wheeze. Desperate, I latch on to his starched shirt and fist the crisp white fabric.
Disgust floods his normally evil sneer. I wince as he peels my fingers from his clothing and shoves me back into Trey's awaiting arms.
“Do not touch me again,” he hisses. Something deeper than hate flares in his eyes. Shivering, I sink deeper into Trey's hold. “I need a drink, Trailer. Where’s the liquor?”
“Get the fuck out.” Trey's body trembles with restrained violence. These two hate each other on a good day. Add in the extra intensity of the day, especially the last few hours, and the tension between the men can be cut with a dull butter knife.
“I might have information, exact information, on where to find the girl.”
“Tell me,” I plead, lunging for Shawn again only to have him sidestep my outstretched hands. “Please, Shawn. I'll do anything.”
“I know you will.”
His patronizing tone stutters my thundering heart. Trey's chest rumbles at my back with a warning growl.
“Liquor. Now.”
The command snaps me from the zoned-out sta
te I’d slipped into. I fight my way out of Trey's unrelenting hold. As soon as I'm unrestricted, I rush to the liquor cart tucked in the corner and gather as many of the bottles as I can in my arms before turning and heading back to the middle of the room. Depositing all the bottles along the table, I purse my lips to keep the tears at bay.
“Glass.”
“Get it yourself, fucker.”
Ignoring Trey’s outburst, I grab a glass. I get why he’s pissed, I really do, but right now all that matters is getting the information Shawn has on Taeler. I’ll deal with the repercussions of my weak actions later.
Shawn is settled into the deep leather couch when I return with the crystal highball glass. The leather groans as he leans forward, lifting the bottle of Blanton's from the coffee table.
My teeth sink into what's left of my ring fingernail as I watch his purposefully slow movements. I hold back a pitiful squeak as he takes a savoring sip of the bourbon he just poured. The asshole knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Do you really know where she is?” I ask after he's relaxed back into the couch, looking like we're about to discuss anything other than my daughter’s life.
“You doubt me?” He arches a brow, those dark eyes never leaving mine as he takes another sip. “How do you think he knew where to find her in the first place?”
I choke back a sob. Sealing my palm over my lips, I curl forward, trying to ease the ache in my lower belly.
“What is it you want in return for this information, Whit?” T asks. “We all know you won’t give it up out of the goodness of your heart.”
Shawn dips his chin. “Most would tell you I don't have one at all.”
“I'd be inclined to agree.” T's smile turns sharp, all his teeth showing. “Tell us what you know, or I'll skin you myself.”
A bitter chill settles over the room.
“You know what I want in return,” Shawn says to me, ignoring Tank’s threat. “I give you the girl's location, and when you’re sworn in as president, you select me as vice.”
Something about his words or maybe his tone breaks through the remaining fog coating my brain, clearing my head enough for the pieces of the night and what he’s saying to seep in.
Power Switch: Power Play Series Book 3 Page 25