Power Twist: Power Play Series Book 2

by Mitchell, Kennedy L.

  “Would you say it was worth it?” Tank asks, coming to sit beside me. The railing shakes under his weight. I shoot him a look and stand before the wood splinters beneath us.

  A cool spring breeze whispers through the night, brushing along my exposed forearms and cooling the sweat beading along my neck and brow. Randi shivers and wraps her arms tight around her torso. Without a second thought, I head inside and snag a blanket from the nearest coat closet. Back outside, I unfold the thick material and gently wrap it around the shivering Randi.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “You’re welcome.”

  A pointed, annoyed cough interrupts the small moment we slipped into. Eyes on hers, I step back, putting space between us.

  “Was it worth it, or is it worth it?” she says, repeating Tank’s question after clearing her throat. Sliding her gaze over to him, she shrugs. “Yes and no. Right now, with tonight and the upcoming vote, knowing I'm the one who put that dipshit in office, I'm going with a no. But then I see the good I’m doing with the other committees and projects I have going on all around the country, plus you two, and I know I'd do it all over again just for that.”

  Do not kiss her.

  Do not kiss her.

  Do not kiss her.

  Even with the mantra running over and over in my mind, I can't stop my feet from taking a step and then another toward her. This pull, her smell, her voice—everything about her calls to me. The back of the wicker chair digs into my bare forearm as I support my weight to lean low, putting my head level with hers.

  I take in every beautiful inch of her face before meeting her confused gaze.

  Here it goes. Now's the time to tell her. Everything.

  “Before I tell you about the bill, I need to know something, Mess.”

  A quick breath whistles through her teeth. “And what's that, Trouble?”

  “Do you have anything sharp on you?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Randi

  “The hell?” I ask, pushing his shoulder, needing a few inches between us to breathe normally. Ugh, it’s so hard to think straight with him close. His intoxicating cologne, that smirk, his knowing eyes, the love pouring off him. And then he goes and says that? “Seriously, Trey. What the fuck?”

  The heaviness of our conversation and the gloomy mood whip away with the breeze, leaving behind a lot of confusion on my part and humor on his.

  “Smooth, Playboy. Real smooth.” Tank's voice lightens with laughter, even though it’s clear he’s trying to suppress it.

  “So you're in on this together?” I ask, shifting in the wicker seat to glare at T. “What's he talking about? Sharp things?”

  “We thought it would be best to make sure you weren't armed before Benson here came clean on his… side agreements.”

  All the fight leaves my body, my muscles turning useless. “Is it that bad?”

  Trey shakes his head, his hair brushing onto his forehead. My fingers itch to reach up and push it out of his eyes. I love his hair, especially the way it feels sliding between my fingers. The stubble along his jaw twitches in time with the tight muscle beneath, signaling the tension below the forced humor.

  “I don't know where to start,” he says, breathing out a slow, controlled breath. Pushing off the chair, he stands to pace along the length of the porch. T and I monitor each of his movements as he strides away and then back again.

  Trey pauses at the farthest point away, keeping his back turned to us.

  “It started that day in your office after Jessica left. She'd just told you that the vote would probably pass the House and you were close in the Senate.” Tipping his chin toward his shoulder, he keeps his back to us but says, “Do you remember that? When you were so upset about going home, about having to leave DC?”

  I swallow hard, hoping it’ll help keep my voice from quivering. “I do.”

  “After that, I looked at the numbers Jessica had pulled together and I saw it, I saw why you were so upset. Unless something big happened, the bill would pass the House and Senate with ease.” Turning on his heels, he faces our way but doesn't take a step closer. “I'll admit I thought I was doing this all for you, but tonight, Tank made me realize that I did it for me. I couldn't let you leave, not when….” Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair as he collects his thoughts. “Not when I wasn't ready to let you go. Seeing you so upset broke me, and I knew right then that I'd do anything, give up anything and everything, to make sure you got what you wanted. And me too.

  “I know what people say about you in this town, knew you'd never get the votes even with Jessica's help. She whipped a lot of votes your way but not enough, and I knew someone who could get us the right people, enough people, to side with you.”

  Staying on the other end of the porch, he leans against the railing, gripping it while he stares out at the rising dawn. Pinks and blue burst across the sky, signaling another beautiful spring day ahead. But I can't appreciate its beauty, can't look at anything other than the man in obvious inner turmoil, all because of me.

  “I went to my parents.”

  “You already said that in the SUV earlier. What’s so bad about that?” So he asked his parents for something, big deal. I'm a little jealous that he has someone he can go to and ask for help when it's always been the opposite relationship between me and mom.

  It’s a great idea, one I….

  Hold on.

  “I suggested going to them at the beginning of all this shit, that day in the library. And you were all ‘no, they're sailing on the easy boat down the sea of tranquility’ or something stupid like that.”

  “It wasn't an option then.”

  “But it is now?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  I scoff. “Because now it's your decision and not mine? Now you get to play the brilliant save-the-day idea.”

  “Seriously?” he bites out. “You know I wouldn't do that.”

  “Then what?” I nearly shout. “What made the timing different?”

  “Mess,” he says, his nervous tone and sad eyes smothering my rising frustration. “My parents aren't the best people. They're fucking awful human beings actually. Everything comes with a cost, even for me.”

  The soft flannel fabric of the blanket slips between my fingers as I tighten my grip, waiting for the bomb to drop. “Oh, so what you mean by timing is really bargaining chips. What did you give them?”

  Shoving off the banister, Trey picks up his pacing once again. I track each of his steps, anxiety and worry rising higher with each second he doesn’t respond.

  “Trey, talk to me.”

  “Me.”

  I shake my head, not understanding. “I don't—”

  “It was only going to be for show. I was going to walk away, despite the consequences, but now I'm fucked.” Turning his focus to T, he gives him a hard look. “I should’ve told you this before tonight, I get that, but… I think we have a rat on our team.”

  An animal-type growl rumbles from T's chest. I shrink back at the look of pure vehemence on his normally emotionless face. “What the hell are you talking about, Trey?”

  Trey holds up his index finger, putting a pause on that part of the conversation. “In exchange for the votes, I promised my mother I'd step back into the political scene—”

  I lift the blanket to cover my open mouth. “But you hate it. You’ve said many times how glad you are that you didn’t take that track for your life. Why would you do that?”

  He nods. “It was all I had for a bargaining chip. My parents are desperate to get me back in that scene, so I used it against them. They were for the bill, Randi, I didn't have any other choice.”

  “Okay, well, we can figure it out. That’s not so bad. I mean—”

  “There’s more.”

  I snap my lips shut and press the blanket against them to keep from interrupting again.

  “I had to bring Jessica into this mess. I knew they would want me to ease back into the scene, so I asked her to
help. She was more than willing, considering she knew how much stopping the bill meant to you and she sees you as a friend.”

  Jealousy heats my core. I fist the blanket tighter, my nails digging into the flannel cloth.

  “I told them it would be a fake couple-type thing, just her on my arm at charity functions and galas and shit like that. My parents have wanted us to join our two families, the Bensons and Hawthornes, and this was a way for me to make sure they couldn't say no. My plan was after the four years—”

  “Four years!” I exclaim, nearly jumping out of my seat.

  He shoots me an incredulous look. “I wanted to wait until you were done with your term before backing out on my end of the bargain so the backlash wouldn't affect you. My parents are vindictive assholes. If I showed even a hint of not following through, they would've turned every last person in DC against you.”

  I let out an annoyed huff and situate the blanket back around my shoulders. “Everyone is already against me. Not sure how anyone could make it worse.”

  “If anyone could, it's my parents.”

  With a heavy sigh I press the blanket against my closed eyelids. “What do you have to do at the end of the four years?”

  “I was to truly enter the political scene, run for office, whatever my parents deemed me fit for. Wouldn't surprise me if they had hopes of me running for president or vice.” He rolls his shoulders and stretches out his neck.

  “What's with the snitch you mentioned?” T interjects.

  “It's why I can't back out like I planned. This was all for show, even with their promises of cutting off my inheritance and trust if I backed out. I never intended for it to go further than Jessica and me attending a few parties. And why—” I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. Shit, this is bad. “Why I couldn't say no when they altered my original plan in their favor. Instead of using Jessica as my pawn, I'm now theirs. After we win the Senate, after the bill fails, my mother will host a party where she will announce my engagement to Jessica.”

  “Engaged. Like an arranged marriage type of thing,” I deadpan. “You’re joking. Did I time warp into eighteenth-century England where parents can do that legally? What the hell, Trey?”

  He shakes his head, those shiny dark locks glinting in the rising sun. “I suspect Jessica told them of my plans to give everything up, to not follow through once I got what I wanted, which is why they changed the plan. There was still a loophole, one I saw immediately. I could still walk away, maybe losing a little face with the media, but I could still do it. That’s when my mother dropped the fucking bomb on me, saying if I didn't follow through, she'd make sure I was charged for assault with a deadly weapon.”

  The two men share a hard look. T curses and storms to Trey's side, shoving his shoulder hard. “Why in the hell didn't you tell me sooner?” he roars right in Trey's face.

  “I didn't know if it was one of our guys or that fucker in Boone. I still don't know.”

  “Jimmy,” I whisper to myself. “That's what she's holding over your head?”

  Trey glances over T's shoulder and nods, his eyes dark with guilt and sorrow.

  “So all this is because of me. All of it.” Emptiness swallows up my earlier surging emotions, leaving me cold from the inside out. “Why? Why did you do it, any of it?” Nothing makes sense. Why would someone like him put so much effort, so much care into me, us? He had the perfect life before I walked into it, and now it's fucked because of my sheer presence.

  A shadow drapes over me, forcing my eyes up. Trey's honey brown eyes search mine, the laugh lines I love so much now creased with visible concern.

  “You know why,” he whispers. Bracing one hand on the back of the rocker and one on the armrest, he leans forward, brushing his nose against my own. I inhale deeply, soaking in his scent and the warmth radiating off him.

  “I feel… I feel guilty,” I admit. I search his eyes, looking for any signs that he also blames me. “None of this would've happened without me here.”

  “I also wouldn't have had a reason to fight, to want to give my all for someone. I love you, Randi Sawyer, and there isn't anything I wouldn’t do for you.” Inching closer, he closes the distance between our lips, brushing his softly over mine. “Don't feel guilty, please. I did this, and I'll get out of it. Somehow.”

  “Damn,” Tank grunts, breaking our tender moment. Trey shoots him a glare, his eyes softening when they meet mine again. The wicker groans as Trey pushes off to stand straight. “That mother of yours is one cruel piece.”

  A grunt of agreement from Trey has a small smile pulling at my lips.

  “That she is. Threatening to send your son to federal prison isn't really something that’s listed on the top ten things a decent mother does.”

  Flicking the blanket off my hands, I reach forward and interlace my fingers with Trey's, giving them a squeeze of reassurance. “I’ll admit my mom is a lot of things, and I've cleaned up after her a lot, a lot a lot, but even her shit show is nothing compared to what your mother sounds like. I didn't think it would be possible for me to feel sorry for you, Trouble, but I do.”

  “Any idea who the fucker is who told her about that incident?” T asks.

  Trey shakes his head. “No clue. The past couple weeks, I've been trying to feel the guys out, but hell, it could've even been one of the beta team members. A couple were there too, remember? Or one of our guys could've mentioned it to someone on another team and somehow my mother caught wind of it. Or that fucker I beat the shit out of said something.”

  T lets out an annoyed grunt.

  Footsteps and then the opening of the back door draw our attention. My secretary, looking a little disheveled like she'd been snatched out of bed, pauses when she finds three sets of eyes on her. Chewing on her lip, she tucks a chunk of hair behind her ear and shuffles her weight from foot to foot.

  “Madam VP?”

  I roll my eyes and push up from the chair, casually snaking my hand from Trey's to tuck it back under the blanket. “It’s Randi. How many times do we have to cover that?”

  She nods fast like a bobblehead doll. “The president's secretary called, said the president demanded I find you.”

  “Of course he did.” I look from Trey to T and back to my secretary. The fucker probably wants to ask how I'm still alive. If the boys’ pursed lips and tight eyes say anything, it's that the two men agree.

  “He wants you in the Oval Office as soon as possible,” she says, her voice trembling.

  “Okay, thanks.” The woman doesn't move an inch. My paper-thin patience from the long night and too-heavy morning conversation snaps. “I got it, okay? You're good to go back home. I'll see you later.”

  With a relieved exhale, she flashes a quick, uneasy smile and darts back into the house.

  “I'm going home,” T announces, sounding tired. I take in the deep bags under his eyes and the slump of his normally straight shoulders. Fuck, how could I forget these guys have been up for nearly twenty-four hours? Plus the stress of the night would wear even the toughest man down. “I'll let beta team know you're heading out and to not leave your side.”

  Not giving it a second thought, I stride across the porch and wrap my arms around his thick waist. The buttons of his dress shirt press into my cheek as I squeeze him tight.

  “Thank you for everything, T. I'm so glad you're okay.”

  “It’d take a lot more than last night to take me away from my Sarah.” Pressure against my shoulder urges me back a step, putting a gap between us. “But I do need to know you heard me earlier. To make sure this doesn’t happen again, we need to know everything. Every conversation, every strange call, every weird feeling. You have a big part in keeping you and us safe. Do you understand?”

  I nod and bite my lip to keep it from trembling. “I do. I'll be better, promise. Now that I know what's going on,” I say, giving him a glare with zero fight behind it, “I'll be sure to keep you guys in the loop. But you have to do the same with me. I know I carry
too much on my own shoulders, and I know I let the stress weigh me down, but I need to know all this stuff. I'll relax when I'm dead.” I give him a weary smile, which he returns with a soft chuckle.

  “Not on my watch, Randi.” With a wave to Trey, T marches into the house, leaving Trey and I alone on the now-glowing porch.

  “What are you thinking, Mess?” The stress and exhaustion in his tone pulls at my heart.

  “Do you like her?” I ask before I even process my own words. They just slip out like my heart is talking instead of my head.

  “Jessica?”

  “Yes.” I roll my eyes. “Jessica. Are you not too disappointed about the relationship aspect of the agreement?”

  Trey's nose scrunches, his whole face pinching. “Fuck no. Listen, my parents and her parents have wanted this for a long time. That's all this is. I don't like her. Hell, I can barely stand being around her. I love you, Randi. You're the one I want to be with.”

  I wince and press the heel of my palm against my breastbone.

  What do I feel? I search my heart, dig through my thoughts, trying to figure out what to tell him. I'd love to put him at ease, let him know what he did was okay, but I can't. Not until I know what I'm thinking, what I’m feeling about it all. A lot has happened in the last twelve hours, and I need time to process everything.

  “I need time,” I say, looking away before his sad puppy dog look breaks me. “I don't know how I feel about last night, about what you said, what you did. Part of me is grateful that you'd give up so much for me, that you'd even think about doing something like that for me. I've never had someone who gave up everything. That was always my role—giving and giving and never getting anything back. So it's new, and I don't know how to process it, because then there's the fact that you've known about this for months and didn't tell me. Did you think I would be mad? Did you want to let me think I did this all on my own once the bill failed?” I shake my head. “When did you know about this forced relationship with Jessica?”