Power Twist: Power Play Series Book 2

by Mitchell, Kennedy L.

  It really is a miracle I didn't end up the way both my parents wanted. If I hadn't gone across the country, released their claws from my life, who knows who I'd be today.

  Cracking my neck, I try to ease the tightness in my shoulders that hasn't relaxed since Tank revealed that Randi has a price on her head.

  Thirty minutes pass, my annoyance and temper rising with each passing minute, before a soft creak comes from the direction of the door.

  “It passed the House” is all I say as she enters the room.

  A soft scoff meets my ears, cranking up the heat building in my veins. “Of course it did.”

  Turning, I narrow my gaze on her, allowing all the menace and hate to pour through. “We have a deal.”

  “Ah, the deal,” she says, ignoring my death glare. “Funny thing about that deal is you haven't seemed to keep up your end of the bargain either.”

  “What?” Stalking across the room, I pause in front of Mother.

  “I seem to recall you saying you'd ease your way back into the social circles needed to uplift your political career, yet,” she says with a sigh and condescending pat to my shoulder, “I haven't seen you at any functions recently. Seems I'm not the only one not following through.”

  “Fine,” I grit out, knowing she's right. “Name the next gala or charity shit I need to go to with Jessica and I'll be there.”

  Locking her honey brown eyes with mine, a sinister smile pulls at her lips. “Oh, Trey. Trey, Trey, Trey. You've been out of this game too long. Do you think you have the upper hand in this? It’s too late for that.”

  Grinding my teeth, I force myself to stay quiet. Behind me the door's hinges creak.

  “Ah, there you are,” my mother says, her tone bright. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

  I crane my neck to see who's interrupting our wonderful family reunion and my eyes widen.

  “The fuck are you doing here, Jessica?”

  “Language,” Mother spits out. “We need to get you away from that trailer trash of a woman soon.”

  “Watch it,” I snap, turning back to her.

  Her smile widens and she glances behind me to Jessica. “We’ll have to cure him of this little crush he has for her. That’s your first order of business.” Sliding her gaze back to me, my mother gives me a once-over. “Sad, really. You have so much potential.” She motions for Jessica to join us. “I've been doing a little digging of my own, and it seems you have more of a vested interest in this bill not passing than you originally led me to believe.”

  My nostrils flair, lips pursing into a thin line, but still I say nothing. I need to know what they know first before I open my fat mouth and give them more information to use against me.

  “I've heard you and this woman”—disdain drips from her lips as she says the word—“have a relationship of sorts. Which will be a problem if you're with the lovely Miss Hawthorne.”

  “What?” Jessica gasps. Her eyes dart from me to Mother. “I didn’t… Trey, you didn’t… I thought it was just flirting and—”

  “I never agreed to be with Jessica. I said we would go to the functions together so she could help introduce me to key players, nothing more.”

  Mother looks to Jessica. “See, now that I know what's on the line for you, well… that's just not enough.”

  My throat goes dry, and dread twists in my gut. Jessica’s face turns pale, a greenish tint marking her usually bright features.

  “We had a deal,” I snarl, taking a menacing step toward Jessica.

  “I didn’t know.” She takes a step back. “She didn’t tell me. I wouldn’t have….”

  “What did you do?” I seethe. “What did you do, Jessica?”

  A soft cry bubbles up from her chest, which she covers with a delicate hand to her pale lips.

  “She made a better agreement with me,” my mother responds with a sigh as she motions between her and Jessica. “Here's the new plan in place that you will follow. I will seal the votes needed to stop the bill from passing in the Senate for that pathetic excuse of a vice president. In exchange, you will announce your engagement at the celebration ball we will host after the bill fails, and you will keep your promise to enter the political scene, but sooner.”

  I turn from the two women to pace the length of the opposite wall to keep from punching either of them.

  Shit, this is bad. Think, Trey.

  Engagement? Fuck.

  Sweat builds along my forehead and slicks my palms. Every scenario of how to get out of this whips through my mind, but nothing makes sense. Nothing would work. What I'd planned before—walking away after the four years, because then their influence in this town wouldn’t matter when I screwed them over—won't work now. It's like they knew I planned to back out only when it wouldn’t affect Randi’s term negatively. But the only person who knew that plan was….

  I lock eyes with Jessica. “You sold me out. You told them my original plan.”

  She nods, tears glistening along her lower lids. “Do you love her?”

  “For how long?” I grit out. Sliding my clammy palms into the front pockets of my black jeans, I dig my stubby nails into my thighs. “How long will we have to play the engagement? What are the terms?”

  “One year,” Mother says, inspecting her perfect nails. “This isn’t something you can just step away from like I know you were planning to do before. A deal is a deal, son. I get you the votes and you stick to the engagement and the marriage next year. After the wedding, you’ll leave the secret service for good.”

  I shake my head. “Not going to happen. I'll play the charade, but I will not marry her,” I shout, jutting a finger in Jessica’s direction, “or leave before the end of the term.”

  “Of course you will, sweetie. This is an alliance,” Mom says with a laugh. “Not marriage in the technical term. You need me, and you need this.”

  Turning my gaze to the window, I stare out onto the lush estate, still budding with the last effects of spring. I could always get the votes needed and back out; it's not like they would send the bill back to vote. But what about the backlash I was worried about before? If I back out after the bill fails, my family will ensure Randi is ruined. So which would be worse, Randi’s political ruin or me marrying Jessica?

  I could always go along with their plans—the engagement, the marriage—then end it after Randi’s term. But will I really leave the secret service? Leave Randi unprotected for the remaining two years of her term? Or I could agree to everything right now, then back out of the resignation piece once it comes time.

  “Oh, and son.”

  I slide my annoyed gaze to Mother, who's now lounging along her favorite chaise while Jessica silently sobs in the corner. Crying over hurting Randi or knowing I’ll never love her because my heart belongs to another?

  She really didn’t know. A part of me feels bad for her. She made this new deal with Mother not knowing all the pieces, and she was played just like me. This will kill Randi. She thought she had a friend in Jessica. Maybe she does still. Jessica wouldn’t be this visibly upset if she knew she was screwing Randi over.

  “Don’t even think about double-crossing me. I’ve done my research. You see, I've played this power game longer than you, honey, and I can spot loopholes in any deal. If you back out of any part of our new deal after you've gotten your end of the bargain, well then, I might be forced to release some less-than-positive information about you to the press.” Her lips dip in a fake frown.

  “And what's that?” I ask. Tugging my hands from my pockets, I cross both arms over my chest and widen my stance, readying for a fight I’m not sure I’ll be able to win. How’s that for a slap to the balls.

  “Oh, let me see here. How about assault with a deadly weapon? What is that nowadays? Ten, maybe fifteen years in federal prison? Maybe more since you’re an officer of the law.”

  I feel every last ounce of blood drain from my face. “How…?”

  “Come on now, dear, don't think so little of me. I
t was easy when you know where to look.”

  Realization smacks me in the face like a sack of bricks. “Who told you?”

  “Ah, ah, ah,” she says while wiggling her finger back and forth. “I don't reveal my sources. So, son, what will it be? Jessica and your whore of a girlfriend, or no Jessica and no VP? Easy choice if you ask me.”

  Right, like I have a choice at all. And knowing Mother, this is only the beginning. From here on out, new items will be added on, new expectations. This new deal is just a baseline for my future torment.

  The real question is, can I live with myself with Randi gone or with her here and hating me for doing this behind her back? Sorrow wells in my chest, pushing a tightness in my throat.

  Neither outcome ends with me with the woman I love.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Randi

  June

  My cheeks pulse with a low ache from holding my broad smile for so long. After a quick professional goodbye, I unseal the phone screen from my ear and rest it on the desk. I scribble the location and confirmed time into the planner, underlining it several times for emphasis. This is my fourth meeting to get on the books with an influential senator since the OPEC summit three weeks ago. Two of the senators I met with last week said they would consider my counterpoints to the bill while the one yesterday flat out said no, but hey, can't win them all. Hopefully the one I just scheduled for Thursday night swings my way.

  With an excited groan, I pitch the pen onto the desk and lean back in the large leather-back chair. Closing my eyes, I relish the few seconds of peace this moment offers. Since the cold shower intervention, I've worked diligently to hand some responsibilities off to those who are capable. With the various committees and obligations taken care of by others, I've had time to focus on stopping the bill and delegating the other things as they've come through. I hate to admit it, but T was right. The suffocating pressure and stress I was carrying would've drowned me.

  Thank goodness for friends who are willing to give the tough love needed to save you from yourself.

  Pressing the tips of my heels to the rug, I swivel left and then right, smiling with my eyes still closed. T and Trey—all the guys, really—are amazing. Even though Trey's been acting funny the last couple of weeks. More closed off than usual, sad almost. We haven't had a chance to talk alone, but hopefully we can soon so I can stop the nagging feeling that something's wrong. Surely he would've told me if there was, right?

  Shaking my head, I lean forward and reach for the pen to jot down a few more notes when the phone vibrates against the polished dark wood. My brows furrow as I read the bright screen: Unknown Caller. Swiping my thumb against the smooth glass, I press it against my ear.

  “This is Randi,” I say. Pinching the pen between two fingers, I spin it along the desk.

  “Madam Vice President, this is Senator Johnson.” Johnson. Johnson. Johnson. Which fucking one? I open my mouth to ask which state he represents, but he continues on before I can. “I've heard you're wanting to stop the voting bill that was recently passed by the House.”

  “I am.”

  “I'd like to help you.”

  Excitement buzzes in my belly. Sitting up straighter, I twirl the pen again, the whirling of the metal against the wood offering the only sound in the office.

  “I would love that. How—”

  “There are a few others I think you need to talk to, help them understand exactly what this bill entails. The wording is put in a way that most aren't sure exactly what they're voting for.”

  “Right,” I say, feeling vindicated. “The president wants that. He wants this bill to go through without any pushback.”

  “When can you meet the others?”

  Hastily I flip through my calendar, looking for an opening. “Let me—”

  “How about Thursday evening?”

  I bite my lip and stare at the appointment I just made with the other senator. “I already have a meeting that evening.”

  “What about after?”

  A sense of foreboding pricks in my gut.

  “What’s the rush?”

  A heavy sigh comes from the other side of the phone. “I'm sure you’re aware, Madam VP, that you’re not the only one trying to solidify votes in their corner. The president is making his rounds, and he has… formidable pull. If you want to win this, you need to get these men to your side before he does.”

  I nod, gripping the phone tighter. “Thursday night. It’ll have to be late.”

  “Aren’t most deals in this city made in the shadows of the night?”

  I release an uneasy laugh. “I guess. Let's say eleven o'clock. That’ll give me plenty of time with the other senator. Where should we meet?”

  “Charlie Palmer's Steakhouse.”

  I wince at the stinging pain coming from my lip just as the sharp tang of blood slides across my tongue. “They close at ten, do they not?”

  “I'm a very, very loyal patron, Madam VP. They’ll stay open for us. I look forward to meeting you in person.”

  “You too,” I say, somewhat in disbelief.

  “Good day, Madam Vice President. Until then.”

  Pulling the silent phone from my ear, I stare at the blank screen. So odd. But also not. In this town, with all its pomp and circumstance, everything is laced with an edge of drama and suspense. Good thing I am too.

  At the knock on the door, my head shoots up from where I'm detailing out my new meeting on the calendar. Trey's somber face peeks through the crack, eyes scanning the room before landing on me.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey, back.” I toss the pen onto the desk and swivel in the chair. “You need something?”

  His dark floppy hair slides along his brow with the shake of his head. “No, just wanted to say bye before I head off. Shift’s over.”

  “Oh,” I say, not hiding my disappointment. “You coming back by later?”

  Again he shakes his head. “I can't. Family obligations. I just needed to see you before I go.”

  “What's going on, Trouble? You seem… troubled.” I smile at my own joke, but it falls when he doesn’t return it. “Something's wrong. Tell me.”

  “I can't. Not yet, Mess.”

  “Did I do something?” I whisper with a glance up to the security cameras hidden in the corners of the office.

  “Of course not,” he bites out with more conviction than I've heard from him in weeks. “Don't ever think that, you hear me?” Stepping deeper into the room, he quietly closes the door behind him and leans against it.

  “I miss you.” My words are barely audible, but the way he closes his eyes, wincing like he's in pain, there's no doubt he heard them.

  “I know. Fuck, I know. But I just can't right now. I'll tell you more soon, I swear. Just don't… don't give up on me.” With that he turns, pulls the door open, and slides out without a goodbye.

  Pressing against my chest, I attempt to ease the ache radiating from my heart.

  Something is wrong, very wrong, but what can I do if he won't tell me?

  * * *

  Needing to release some of the pent-up anger on the verge of bubbling over, I grip the SUV's door and slam it shut behind me, almost severing my foot at the ankle in the process. Flipping my loose wavy hair over my shoulder, I sink low in the seat before reaching back for my seat belt.

  “Guessing that went well,” Trey says from the front passenger seat.

  “Waste of my damn time,” I huff. Reaching down, I tug at the hem of my skirt. “Why do these people even agree to meet with me if they know their bigoted little black hearts won't hear a word I say?”

  Both men upfront remain silent. My annoyance grows. Smacking T's headrest, I lean as far forward as my seat belt will allow, placing my face between their shoulders.

  “You're both awfully quiet. Surely you have some ideas.”

  Trey chuckles and adjusts in his seat, allowing him to look back at me. For the first time in weeks, his eyes are light with humor. Too bad
this time it’s him laughing at me.

  “You're hot, Mess.”

  My mouth pops open. “He's married,” I say, pointing back to the restaurant we just left. “And old.”

  “That didn't stop Hindle, did it?” I grumble a few curse words under my breath. “All I'm saying is you're beautiful, smart, and the hot new thing on the DC scene. Plus, you’re powerful. Of course they're all going to say yes when you call them up to schedule a meeting. They're hoping your version of meeting means sans clothes.”

  “I just threw up a little in my mouth,” I say, fake gagging. “Old saggy balls. No thank you.” With a resigned sigh, I relax back into my seat and look out the window. “Well, if what you say is true, then hopefully this next meeting will be better since I didn't schedule it.”

  T slams on the brakes, shooting me forward until my seat belt catches. The air whooshes from my lungs as the tight material cinches across my chest.

  “What the hell, T?” I rasp, inhaling deep to regain some composure. “Did you almost hit someone?”

  The leather groans as he twists around. Trey mirrors his move.

  “Who made this meeting if you didn't?” T demands.

  “Senator Johnson. He called me—”

  “Which one?” they say in unison.

  Well, fuck. Bouncing my gaze between their stern ones, I lift my shoulders with a grimace. “Not sure.”

  “Randi fucking Sawyer,” T yells. “Which one?”

  “I don't know, okay?” I shout back, but not with nearly as much… wait, is that fear? “What's wrong?”

  The two men share a glance. “It sounds suspicious is all,” Trey says after clearing his throat. “Tell us about the call.”

  Horns blare all around us. Glancing out the window, I realize we've stopped in the middle of an intersection. With a huff of annoyance, T slowly eases back into traffic while I detail out the specifics of the call as best I can remember.