A few conversations later, including a humorous one with Vanessa’s father, it’s finally time to light up the blue screen and see what the results are. Like he did back in my room, Lyncoln takes my hand bringing my knuckles above my ring to his lips.
“I love you, Regs,” he says and kills me with his blue-browns.
I smile at the same time I feel my blush and a touch of shiveries from the way he is looking at me. “I love you, Lync.”
Here.
We.
Go.
The first township to pop up on the screen is Detroit. I wince wondering if Marisol and Henry will have wooed this township over with their deceitfulness. Much to my surprise, we have won Detroit with 40%. Marisol and Henry do have second with 29% though. Attie and Knox have 17%. Elizabeth and Maverick have 14%.
There is a round of applause. I take a deep breath. Surely if Omaha pulls through, and with winning Detroit and our current third-place standing, we should make it, right? I want to just run and hide until it’s all over, but I can’t stop watching. My happy ever after is literally minutes away from being shattered.
I don’t even bother to really comprehend the overall total with Detroit plugged in that pops up next. I don’t want to get disheartened by once again seeing Marisol and Henry at the top. I look up to see the bars on the graph, but I don’t even look at the percentages this time around. Omaha is next. They’ll pull through for me, right?
Without having to wait any longer, Omaha pops up on the screen. There is a murmur of agreement in the crowd as they see that we have 66% of the vote. We took Omaha by storm.
I smile and look at Lyncoln. I knew they would pull through for me. We are all one big family in that way. Attie and Knox have 16%, Elizabeth and Maverick have 10%, but the very best part of this graph is that Marisol and Henry have only a measly 8% of the vote. I don’t dare look their way because I know Marisol is absolutely fuming. Serves her right!
Realizing that everyone at home is watching in across the nation, I find a camera and mouth the words, “Thank you.”
With the next overall chart, I am surprised to see that we are in second with our percentage of votes. This excites me and depresses me both. It looks like we might make it, but how am I supposed to say goodbye to either of the other couples, especially when Elizabeth and Maverick, currently in last, helped send votes our way and sabotaged themselves? The only couple that deserves to go home here is the couple sitting in the lead. I sigh and Lyncoln squeezes my hip. All we have left is Seattle and the Board.
And finally, after a very dramatic pause, the last township chart is up with Seattle’s results. Seattle was almost as close as Vegas in terms of percentages, but we won, barely, with only 30% of the votes. Attie and Knox were second with 27%. Marisol and Henry were third with 26%. Elizabeth and Maverick only had 14%.
Unbelievable! We dominated… well sort of… because it isn’t really dominating if you only have a third or less of the votes, but we dominated all three townships this time, after not winning any yesterday.
Whew.
Now all that’s left is the Board of Director’s votes. Will they help us or screw us? Knowing each and every one of them quite well, except for maybe evil tester man, Mr. Alexander, I don’t know what to think. If we don’t do well with their votes, it will sting more than the others. It will definitely feel more personal. And Taggert did say Hadenfelt had some influence on the Board.
The next screen is up and rather than see the percentage of votes that we all got for the panel votes, it instead is just our overall with the panel votes added in. I guess that makes sense as it doesn’t take much math to be able to figure out that if you have about 16% of the Board vote, then only one person voted for you.
This last screen though, the overall with Board votes added in, is what matters most and is what they will use to make the projections for the next vote. We are at 30.6% giving us second place right behind Marisol and Henry who have an even 31%.
Holy crap! Holy shoot. Holy crapshoots!
WE FINISHED LESS THAN A PERCENT BEHIND MARISOL AND HENRY!
I want to celebrate and jump for joy, but as I look at the chart I see that third place is Attie and Knox with 23.5%, and Elizabeth and Maverick take last, and will be going home, with 14.4%.
Whoops, cheers, and tears are then happening throughout the room. Lyncoln turns to me, with a hand on either side of my face, and kisses me hard, eliciting some whistles in the crowd close to us.
Before he pulls away, he looks me in the eyes and whispers, “We did it.”
“We did it,” I whisper back and give him another quick smooch.
Looking at the crowd before us, I see everyone toasting and chatting about the final three couples. Some people are already talking about who they will vote for next. I am overwhelmed and cannot believe that we not only are safe, but we got second overall after everything was said and done. And then a raw sadness hits the bottom of my gut as I grasp that we might not have done so without Elizabeth and Maverick’s help.
I grab Lyncoln’s hand and make our way to the middle of the stage area up front, where we will all be saying goodbye to them and then giving our speeches. All of this is still televised and as I look at the big clock in the room, I realize that everyone in Omaha is staying up late to see all of this.
When we finally get there, I join Attie in hugging Elizabeth.
“How can I ever thank you?” I whisper in her ear.
She whispers back, “No, how can I ever thank you?”
As we separate, I look at her and honestly say, “But it should have been you two. With your being from Denver and his being from Vegas and those being the two population powerhouses, it definitely shouldn’t be you going home.”
She stops me by putting a hand on my arm, and says quietly, “But I’m totally okay with it not being us. And if it was us, with Marisol and Henry in the end, we would lose anyway. We know we can’t go against the heirs to the presidency and win. You guys can.”
This makes me teary. Attie notices and yells, “Group hug!” and the three of us are hugging all over again.
As we finally separate again, Lyncoln comes over to give Elizabeth a hug and I give Maverick one.
“Please stick around, we will miss you both terribly. Denver needs you here,” I tell him.
“Don’t worry, we don’t plan on going anywhere, Reagan,” he smiles and then winks. “You guys have got this.”
After we have all aptly hugged each other and have organized ourselves up front, Elizabeth and Maverick go first to give their farewell speeches. As everyone quiets down, I’m flooded with guilt. I get to stay in the Culling, but probably only because they allowed me to.
Elizabeth begins, saying sweetly how much of an honor it was and that she learned so much about our country. She says thanks to Maverick for staying by her side, and she thanks the rest of us for becoming lifelong friends.
Maverick is up next and his speech is very similar. Except when he goes to thank Elizabeth, he gets down on one knee and proposes to her.
Holy crap!
I can’t hear his exact words over the crowd’s cheers, but I know he tells her there is no one else in this life for him. She, of course, starts crying and says yes. I find that I myself am crying, wiping at my eyes, in watching all of this, but I selfishly know it is only partially because I am happy for them. The other reason I’m crying is because Maverick could have done this at any point along the way, whether it be on the tour or after, and they would have received a lot of votes because of it. Instead, he waited until they were leaving. Their loyalty leaves me breathless. Why did they do this for us?
The crowd chants their names. Although they are going home, they also get a happy ending. Everyone loves a happy ending.
Ending up in second place, we go second to last for our speeches. Attie and Knox each give amazing speeches per the usual and then Lyncoln goes first so that I have more time to think about what in the world I am going to say. “Hey guys,
thanks for the votes and especially to Maverick and Elizabeth for giving us yours,” isn’t going to go over very well. But how do I properly express the gratitude I feel in this moment?
Lyncoln looks at me and I start paying more attention to what he’s saying.
“And I would especially like to thank this amazing woman by my side. She is my best friend. She is my equal. With her by my side, we can do anything,” he kisses me on the cheek and the crowd eats it up.
I’m up. Here goes nothing.
I smile and shake my head as I start. “First and foremost, and before I forget, I would like to thank Omaha for your continued love and support. I will never forget where I came from, as it has made me into the woman I am today.” I stop and pause a moment to take a breath and fight off more tears before beginning again. “If you would have told me a few months ago that I would be standing here today, I would have laughed in your face. Yet, in three months’ time, throughout the ups and downs and many trials of the Culling, I have found my passion. I have found the love of my life. And I have found friends whose loyalty knows no bounds.
“My country chose me for this and I could not be more honored. I have a lot of work still left to do and a lot of fight still in me. It won’t always be easy, but our country is worth it. You. Each and every one of you is worth it. I would love to serve you as your next Madam President, if you’ll have me.” I stop to smirk, realizing how much I actually mean those words. Elizabeth didn’t want this job, but even though it’s a disaster, I do actually want to do this. I look at Lyncoln and smile. “Just call it a job perk that I get to marry this handsome hunk while I’m at it.”
I finish and the crowd cheers. Lyncoln playfully grabs me and dips me, planting a kiss right on my lips as they cheer even louder. I cuddle up under his massive biceps as we move off the stage for Marisol and Henry to finish out the night.
****
“Wow. Okay, air! Squirt gun! Call in the cavalry!”
My hair was once up and off my neck but now seems to be escaping, no thanks to Lyncoln. My lips feel tingly, large, and well used. And my body would like nothing more than to continue this intense smooching session on the couch in my room. Who knew just kissing could be so… whoa. His breath is warm on my neck making my skin crawl with all sorts of un-ladylike feelings.
Lyncoln sighs disappointedly but chuckles as he leans back and looks at me with his passionate and downright hungry eyes, “Fine. Your wish is my command. Again.”
I’ve apparently been playing with his hair again, his jacket is off one of his shoulders, and his tie is all sorts of crooked. No harm done though, he is still, unfortunately, fully clothed.
I smile. “You would think we won the whole thing tonight with how you are trying to celebrate with me right now.”
“Honey, I fully intend to show you how I will celebrate with you when we win.” Then he leans in and whispers softly, “Though we might have to wait for all of it.”
Wow. Where do I sign? Why aren’t we already married again?
Despite his steamy words, he backs up and gives me some space and I blush about a hundred different shades of red. “No word?” I ask, referring to Red Hawk, desperate for a change of topic.
He shakes his head and smirks. “Not yet.”
“I know you’re worried,” I offer. He sent Langly and West both, both of which he works closely with. He would never feel the end of the guilt if something were to happen to them.
He shrugs. “It comes with the territory.”
I nod. “I know, but these are your best guys.”
He nods with me. “Yes, but I have to send my best guys if I’m not there to see it through myself.”
I wonder how much he is beating himself up for not going. He’s trying to put on a strong front, but how is he really doing? Behind that confident and macho exterior. “Anything I can do to help?” I ask, feeling completely useless.
He breaks into a rare, all-out grin. “You were just doing it.”
“Snoodling, you mean?” I smile, teasing him with the word he always uses.
He nods, leaning in and bringing his nose to mine while resting his forehead on mine, whispering, “Letting me get lost in you.”
Well, allow me to let you get back to that, sir.
Seeing his rare vulnerability does me in every time. Feeling the need to be closer, I crawl onto his lap and let him continue being lost.
Chapter 19
Saturday morning by the time I wake up, Lyncoln has already left for DIA. I’m about to get ready and leave for there myself, but there is a knock on my door.
Already dressed in my black gear, I open the door to find Attie smiling and carrying a tray of muffins and fruit. Her short, light brown hair is down and resting at the top of her shoulders. She’s wearing jeans and a sweater.
“Morning!” she smiles all chipper.
“Hey.” I’m happy to see her but somewhat confused.
All the Culling couples have been at DIA every available day for quite some time. I know she is one of those weird and insane individuals that like mornings, so I’m surprised she isn’t over there by now. And why isn’t she dressed in gear by now?
“I can tell you’re confused why I’m here. Well, our men are busy today with Red Hawk, so Lyncoln sent me to keep you company because he knows you will be sitting here worrying. Both of them told me that the fewer people that are there today, the better. Lots of boring strategizing. Tomorrow, when everything goes down, we will of course be there. And if it makes you feel any better, Marisol and Henry aren’t allowed to go today either.”
I don’t like this at all. If it is “my plan”, why can’t I be there? Does Lyncoln not want me there? Or is he trying to protect me because he thinks it’s going to go poorly? And if Henry knew that Knox got to go and he didn’t, he’d be pissed. All final four men have been part of military happenings now for weeks.
This brush off stings a little. With Samson gone, my usual job cannot be done today, so I guess I have to look at it that way. It’s back to being just a Culling candidate, apparently. And if I can’t go, at least Marisol can’t either. All she does at DIA is talk with her father’s cronies anyway.
“Come on in.” I smile at Attie. This isn’t her fault. I can’t kill the messenger, so to speak. Lyncoln probably sent her fully knowing I couldn’t send her away or be mad at her. Fully knowing she is the only one to save him from my wrath of frustration.
For the next few hours, we get comfy on the many pillows of my bed and girl-talk about the Culling, our men, really anything and everything. I am truly happy to have met a friend like her and realize it has been way too long since we have done this. Lounging and girl-talk has been nonexistent lately.
“So how is all the research on the new interrogation techniques?” I ask her.
She shakes her head in disgust. “Horrible. One of the options is the starvation method in which you don’t feed the person in question until they answer your questions. At that point, they are so hungry they will say anything.”
Yuck. I sigh. “I wish we didn’t even have a need for interrogation anymore. I am almost starting to agree with Lyncoln that there need be no interrogation. If they are stupid enough to attack, they are stupid enough to either lose their lives or spend the rest of them in prison.”
She nods. “A lot of the options and research I have done makes me want to puke. But seeing what I have seen, and with my love of the medical field, there has to be a better option.” She pauses. “Knox is trying to create a way in which we can put the person in the simulator and instead of them seeing an interrogator in questioning, they will think they are in a dream and will be talking to someone they trust instead.”
“Wow.” I’m totally impressed, jaw open in how brilliant that sounds. “That would do it.”
“Much safer,” she says proudly then adds, “And effective. But he says there will be a lot to develop with the software. It’s his new pet project, when he has time anyway. He hasn’t figured ou
t a way to make them think they are dreaming either, so I have been emailing some of my Vegas colleagues to find out as much as I can about the state we are in when we are dreaming along with hypnotizing.”
“Interesting,” I say impressed. Leave it to those two to be brilliant enough and caring enough to come up with a way to end the painful and cruel part of interrogation.
“I can’t wait to marry that genius man,” she says with a smile then blushes. “I mean I know we are moving slower than everyone else and I wouldn’t say that we are exactly head over heels like you and Lyncoln, but we do care for each other a great deal. I know he would be a great husband, and I think that goes for if we stay in the Culling or not.” She pauses. “We haven’t said I love yous yet, but I think it’s only a matter of time. I think he just doesn’t want to say it right now because that’s what’s expected of a Culling couple, and he doesn’t want me to think he’s doing it for the wrong reasons. We’ve talked about getting married, so I know he must feel that way anyway.”
“And so when’s the wedding?” I grin at her rambling.
She shrugs. “Some time when this is all done. If we don’t win, I want to plan it all out for a while. Though he would probably prefer for it to be tomorrow since I am sticking to my guns about no sex until we are married.” She blushes and I’m grateful that it isn’t just me that has this telling trait.
I laugh a bit surprised that sex is even on the table if they aren’t verbally saying they love one another. Relationships are weird. Sometimes the most logical sequence of events for a successful relationship are done all out of order with zero commitments or expectations. And sometimes the most illogical pairings in relationships, i.e. Lyncoln and my relationship from the start to current day, seem to work. Logistics just don’t seem to work where the heart is concerned. The problem is that desire seems to muddle things and make us drunken fools rushing into decisions we wouldn’t normally. That’s why I’m proud of Lyncoln and his stance on our relationship, all aspects of our relationship. His respect for me is wrapped around his love for me.
The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) Page 27