“Thanks, Ben. I'm sorry I dragged Tae into this mess. I'll figure out a way to keep her safe.”
Peering up through my lashes, I meet his stare.
“I know you will, Rand. You always find a way to make it work.” The chair squeaks under his shifting weight as he leans back. “I was scared shitless when she called.”
The desk gives a slight wobble as I hop up and lean back against the wall. “Same. At least you were in the same state. I felt so helpless. There was nothing I could do but get on a plane.” The backs of my black wedge booties tap the thin metal file cabinet under the desk as I swing my legs back and forth. “Thanks for coming down though. It makes it easier knowing you're just a few hours away.”
“She is my daughter too, Rand,” he says, his tone defensive.
I want to retort with all the times he hasn't acted like the standup father he is now but swallow the words down. We've had that fight before, many times; no need to beat a dead horse.
“You know,” he says, “I kind of thought we'd figure it out one day.”
A corner of my lips tugs upward. “Yeah, before all this, me too. But I don't think either of us would've been happy.”
“No, you wouldn't have.” It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in, but by the time they do, he's at the door, hand on the knob. “Keep me updated on the security you're gonna get for Tae. If those assclown agents let her sneak out once, it’ll happen again.” A blast of cool air sweeps into the overheated office as he pulls open the door. “And Randi?” I look over at him. “Should I try?”
“Try what?” Okay, did I miss a conversation or something?
“Try to win you back. Make this, us, work.”
My lips pop open, each breath shallow and quick as I try to come up with an answer. I run my tongue across my lower lip, stalling.
“Just think about it. Bye, Rand.”
The door shuts behind him, leaving me alone in the office. At first it’s just a tickle, then a quiet giggle. Soon tears are rolling down my cheeks and my arms are crossed over my flexing stomach as I laugh harder than I have in ages.
Let this day go down in the history books as the day Randi Sawyer finally lost her ever-loving shit.
* * *
The clammy skin of my palms sticks as I rub them together, attempting to bring some heat back into my chilled fingers. It’s a beautiful night here in Austin but the nerves flowing through my system have left me chilled to the bone which is why I asked T to turn the heat on while we wait in the Suburban outside Taeler's dorms.
“You sure they'll be okay?” I ask for the third time since we parked our convoy ten minutes ago. “I don’t trust these guys at all. They let her get out once; who knows who can get in? I get I can’t fire them right now or that would leave her completely unprotected, but maybe you should go up too, T. You know to check on things, and it’s been a while. What are they doing up there anyway?”
“They're fine, promise.” For emphasis, he taps his ear. “I can hear what's going on, remember?”
Nibbling on my pinkie nail, I turn to look out the dark window once again, waiting for the rest of our team to emerge and let me know Taeler’s room is clear. I didn’t trust those other fools enough to do it alone.
Comfortable quiet falls, allowing me to retreat into my own mind and zone out completely until Trey shatters the calm with a statement I wasn’t expecting.
“I heard him when he left.”
Well, hell. I was so wrapped up in my own mess that I didn't even think about Trey and what he thought of it all. Not that it matters, but it kind of does. This is why I shouldn't get involved with him; it makes everything more complicated than it already is. Today was terrible, but adding in the terror of watching Trey confront the Russians alone, plus having to manage his emotions in response to Ben's presence, I can see why T thought our relationship was a bad idea.
“Can we talk about it later?” I ask. “I don't have the energy for that conversation right now.”
“Fine.”
My stomach drops at the annoyance in his voice, but movement down the sidewalk distracts me. T and Trey file out of the SUV, the latter slamming the door a little harder than necessary. Leaning back against the soft black leather, I roll my head against the headrest to watch the group of men deep in discussion. Their figures blur as my eyelids grow heavier with each blink.
A sharp blast of cool spring air snaps me from the light sleep I slid into. Peeling my eyes open, I blink back the dryness and rub at the corners.
“We have a problem,” Grem says, leaning against the door to keep it propped open. T and Trey circle around him, blocking anyone from seeing inside the SUV.
Of course we do, because this wouldn't be my mess of a life if we didn't.
Chapter Thirteen
Randi
I'm going to kill him. Punch him in the nuts, cut off his dick, and carve out his heart with a rusty spoon. I had the whole flight back from Austin and the morning to plan his slow death, and I intend to act on it as soon as the bastard gets out of his damn meeting.
Why would he do this?
Is it connected to the person who was following Tae who the random Russian said they took care of?
Why was there a random Russian even in Austin watching Taeler?
Pacing up and down the hall in front of the Oval Office I clench and unclench my fists as the unanswered questions keep coming. One of Kyle’s secret service agents eyes me as I furiously stomp, my black heels nearly piercing through the ornate carpet. Whirling around for the hundredth time, my loose dark hair swirling in a circle around me, I march back to the office door and raise my hand to knock, but a quick hand juts out, wrapping around my wrist.
“No,” the agent snarls. “I told you that ten minutes ago when you tried the same thing.”
“Let her go, Kent,” Trey says behind me, his voice deep and menacing.
Reluctantly, the warm palm slides from my wrist. My knuckles arch back, readying to knock, when movement on the other side causes me to pause and take a step back just before it swings open. Four men file out of the Oval Office, three whom I don't recognize and one who I most certainly do.
“Trailer,” Shawn says with his Joker-like smile plastered across his plastic face. “How was Austin? Sounded like it was an interesting trip.”
My heart stutters. I suck in a deep inhale.
Somehow his smile grows more sinister. A fear-laced chill creeps down my spine.
“I look forward to continuing this game, Trailer. All’s fair in this power war you started between us.” Leaning forward, he whispers, “I’ll get what’s mine in the end, but the road to your demise is proving to be quite a fun ride. Your move, Trailer.”
Bile rises in my throat. I clamp a hand around my neck in an attempt to keep last night’s BBQ down. I don't say another word as Shawn saunters down the hall, glancing back once with a wink before disappearing around a corner. The fingers around my neck twitch, and my knees buckle. Palm out, I smack the wall to stay upright and bend forward to stop the room from spinning.
“Ma'am,” Trey says at my side. Fuck, when did he get here? “You need to sit down?”
I shake my head, my dark hair falling forward in a makeshift curtain. Licking my lips, I force myself to stand tall and take a deep breath.
“Did you hear him?” I ask as I glance back down the hall, fully expecting Shawn to be there enjoying my mini breakdown.
“You've got five minutes,” Kyle bites out, clearly in a foul mood.
He wraps his fingers around my bicep and tugs me into the room. Before Trey can get a word out, the door slams closed.
“Talk.” Releasing me, he marches over to the side bar and pours two fingers of a dark liquid into a crystal highball glass.
My earlier fury smothered by Shawn's comments, I mindlessly shuffle to the couch and fall onto the soft cushions. Staring unseeing at the far wall, I shake my head in disbelief. “It wasn't you.”
“Four minutes, Walmart,�
�� Kyle barks from behind me.
“We found bugs, listening devices in my daughter’s dorm, and I thought… I just knew it was you.”
In my periphery, he folds into a chair and messes with his suit jacket. “Why in the hell would I want to spy on your daughter? What would I gain from it?”
“I couldn't think of anyone else until… just now Shawn said something that makes me think it was him. But you’re right. What would he have to gain from it?”
“Probably was him.” My gaze slides from the wall to Kyle. Head back, his eyes are closed, stress lines marking his normally flawless face. “And as to why, you never know with Shawn. Maybe he did it to mess with your mind or to learn information that he could hold over your head one day.”
I shudder at the thought. Again I take in his unusual rumpled appearance. “You look terrible,” I say before I can stop myself.
“He has it out for you, Walmart.” Ice blue eyes meet mine. “Don't think you can ask me to control him. No one can. I tried to pull him back, but it seems he chose not to listen.” A high-pitched squeak sounds through the office as he tightens his grip around the slick crystal. “Not the first time or the last. Just watch your fucking back.”
Why does it seem like everyone is spouting that warning at me lately?
“Aw, you care about me.” My voice is fake and cheery. Suspicion creeps up my neck, making the tiny hairs stand on end. “Wait, why are you being nice to me?”
“Two minutes Walmart.”
“What do I do?”
“Resign and let him take his rightful spot.”
“Not going to happen,” I grit out and slam a fist into the cushion. “Not that it’ll matter if I can't get the votes to stop the bill.”
“Good to know even white trash sticks to the losing end of a bargain.”
“Fuck you.”
“No thanks, I'm too tired.” With his free hand, he massages the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, I'm tired, and it’s only been five months.”
“Yeah.” I relax back into the couch. “No one gets it. They try, but it's hard to explain when the weight of the country falls on your shoulders. Did you know it would be this consuming?”
“No fucking clue.” A shimmer of humor laces his words but in a sad way.
“Same.” Behind my closed lids, my eyes flick back and forth, my mind working overtime. “Hey, so last night in Austin, someone mentioned gas prices are skyrocketing and they think we're to blame. Something about the EPA tightening regulations?” Peeking an eye open, I catch Kyle's intense stare zeroed on me. I swallow against a dry throat and push up, sitting ramrod straight. “You know anything about that?”
“Time’s up, Walmart.” Lips against the rim, he tips the crystal back, taking down the remaining liquor in one swallow. “Don’t worry about the gas issue. I’m already on it. Also, cancel your trip to the OPEC summit next week. Too many protests and chatter about potential attacks.”
“Fine by me.” Standing, I retuck my crisp white dress shirt into my slim black suit pants. “More time for me to win the House before the vote.”
“Yeah, good luck with that. Oh, and Randi?” My steps falter as I turn to gawk. What the hell is he up to using my actual name? “I'm not kidding with Shawn. He's a dangerous motherfucker.”
“Then why are you two friends?”
A sad kind of resigned smile pulls at his lips. New wrinkles form along the edges of his eyes, making him seem even older than he did moments ago.
“Because I'm dangerous too.”
* * *
A series of annoying, high-pitched beeps resounds in the small gym as the treadmill gears up to torture me for the next fifteen minutes. With a small jolt, the belt beneath my feet slowly rolls, dragging me backward with it.
“This is where you pick up your feet and don't let the machine win,” Trey says with a chuckle. “Damn, Mess. You're a mess.”
“Don't I know it.” Pressing the up arrow button, I increase the speed to just above a turtle pace. “Should we monitor my heart rate or something while I'm doing this? Maybe have one of those cardiac zappers around just in case I collapse?”
“Wow.” Reaching across the complex dash, he presses the button a few more times, increasing my speed. “You're not going to die. But if you want to pass out, I'd gladly give you mouth-to-mouth.” He offers me an exaggerated wink and climbs onto his own treadmill. A million sharp beeps later and he's practically sprinting, the heavy thuds of his steps shaking the machine.
“I'm sure you would.” With my own smirk tugging at the corners of my lips, I shake my head and press the speed button one more time, setting me at a brisk walk. “Maybe this is what I need after the meeting with Kyle yesterday and all that Shawn mess.”
“Speaking of—”
“Speaking of Austin, have we learned anything more about the message the Russians left in that envelope?”
“Nope, only the cryptic message of wanting to meet.”
Chewing on my middle finger's nail, I mull over his words. It was cryptic, but not. After several tests, they cleared the envelope and the contents late yesterday, allowing us to finally see what was inside. A single white sheet of paper with a date, time, and coordinates typed across the top. The paper, ink, and envelope are so ordinary there's no way to trace them. The coordinates are for a swanky hotel in Chile where the OPEC summit is to be held, and the dates coordinate to the summit as well.
But why is the main question. Then also who.
“If you're not breathing hard,” Trey puffs, “then kick that speed up. We need your heart rate up for at least fifteen minutes before we stretch and then move to weights.”
“Joy,” I say sarcastically while obeying and inching up my speed. “I think it's the Russian president.”
“Agreed.”
“Wonder what he wants.”
“Same.”
“I think I should go.”
His steps falter, causing him to wrap his hands around the side bar to keep from falling forward. “What?”
“I want to get to the bottom of the gas price thing at the summit. If there’s any place to gain clues to what’s going on it’s there. Plus Kyle was super evasive yesterday. Shady almost.”
“That's Birmingham.”
“Agreed, but this was different. Usually he taunts me, but this he outright avoided. I'm going to the OPEC summit and think I should meet with the Russian while I'm there. Clearly he has something he wants to tell me.”
“Or kidnap you and use you for ransom.”
“We don't negotiate with terrorists, remember? Everyone knows that.”
“The fuck? Did you hear that in a movie or something?”
“Maybe,” I grumble between heavy breaths. “It's true though, right?”
“Sometimes I’m afraid for our country.” Grabbing my water bottle I chuck it at his head. Catching it midair, Trey twists the top off, takes a sip, and sets it in his cup holder. “Meeting with the Russians is a bad idea. Not only because of the press you'd get but also the danger involved. It's a hard no.”
“Pretty sure it's a solid yes.”
“Pretty fucking sure it's a fuck no.”
“Guess I'll just have to go alone, then,” I snap. Jamming my finger against the speed button, I push myself into a jog. “You can't tell me what to do, Trouble.” At his silence, I look over, finding his features hard, nostrils flaring. “I know you mean well, but something tells me I need to do this.”
“I thought Birmingham told you to cancel the trip.” Not missing a step, he grips the hem of his black dry-fit T–shirt and rips it over his head before tossing it to the floor. Sweat gathers between his defined pecs and beads along the soft tan skin down his back. Back and forth his arms pump, moving him faster and faster along the treadmill. His chest rises and falls in rapid succession, keeping me transfixed on the demigod beside me. “Mess?”
“Hum?” Not looking away, I sigh at the beautiful man. “You're so pretty.”
“I'm a hard-ass,�
�� he fake growls while flexing his biceps. “Do you need a reminder, baby?”
“Fuck yes.” Now my sharp breaths stem from something other than my forced cardio.
“Later, promise.”
Lower lip forced outward, I huff and turn back to the machine.
He chuckles. “Needy little thing. Now, back to OPEC. Birmingham said to cancel that trip.”
“I'll just happen to forget to cancel it and end up going.” With the hem of my gray tank, I swipe the building sweat along my upper lip and forehead.
“It’ll piss him off, that's for sure.” His face breaks out in a wide smile. Eyes meeting mine, he nods. “Let’s do it.”
“I have another great idea.” Brilliant actually, and I'm pretty sure he'll agree.
“Hit me.”
“How about we stop this boring cardio and opt for a more… group cardio session up in my room?” The last word is barely out of my mouth when his palm smacks the emergency stop button, halting the treadmill’s spinning belt in an instant. “Guess that's a yes?” I say with a giggle.
Instead of responding, Trey hits my own emergency stop and hauls me off the treadmill with an arm around my waist. We’re nose to nose, our heaving chests meet with each deep breath.
“That's a hell yes, Mess.” His sweat-slick fingers slide through my hair, catching in the thick locks. “Like I could ever say no to you.”
“You do,” I say with a pointed look. “All the time.”
“When I'm working, yeah, but today is my day off and I can do whatever I want.”
“Whatever?” I ask, anticipation lacing my breathy one-word question.
A mischievous smirk pulls at the right corner of his lips as his eyes blaze with desire. “Come on.”
Eagerly I pad behind him, our fingers interlaced as he tugs me along, ready to get my version of a perfect cardio session started.
The moment the door closes and the lock snaps in place, Trey’s lips are on mine. Hands cradling my cheeks, he deepens the kiss, pouring intensity and passion into it with each slide of his tongue along my own. Already my heart races, my breaths shortened.
Power Twist: Power Play Series Book 2 Page 14