The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series)

Home > Other > The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) > Page 37
The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) Page 37

by Tricia Wentworth


  Me-ow.

  He shakes his head with a cocky grin. “Not that I’m complaining any, but what was all that about?”

  I shrug. “I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate you. I’m happy the secrets are over, and I’ve missed you.”

  He kisses me rather roughly and pulls back again, mumbling, “Woman, you’ll be the death of me.”

  After we take a few moments to gather our thoughts and get our breathing under control, he offers, “Let’s go for a walk before I lose my mind.”

  I grin at him. “I’d love to.”

  “Oh. By the way, gorgeous, I’m sorry to say this, but I actually have a few secrets left up my sleeve.” He playfully smiles like he knows something I don’t as he grabs and throws on a black hoodie out of his backpack.

  “But you said no more secrets!” I whine.

  “But these are good secrets,” he fires back with a wink, looking mischievous.

  “Well that would depend on the content of said secrets, and I would have to know the matter at hand to properly judge whether said secret was good or not,” I argue while grabbing my coat.

  I know I’m technically supposed to be on lockdown right now, but with Lyncoln and my guards with me, I am as safe as safe can be. I haven’t gotten fresh air in forever so I’m not about to turn this opportunity down.

  He helps me into my coat and gives it a tug before wrapping my scarf around my neck. “Believe me, said secret is good.”

  I glare at him. “I hate your guts.”

  He laughs. “That isn’t what your body said a few minutes ago.”

  I punch him in the arm as we open the door and head downstairs.

  ****

  After we get back, a note is waiting for me:

  Reagan,

  Proposing tonight. Just giving you guys a heads up.

  Henry

  “What the hell?” Lyncoln shakes his head obviously confused as he reads it over my shoulder.

  I shrug.

  “She has her claws in him pretty deep if she still gets a proposal with her dad gone.” He clenches his jaw, visibly upset.

  “Maybe he’s just trying to be nice to her. Whether he likes it or not, he is kind of stuck with her at this point,” I offer then quietly add, “She isn’t innocent, but he did beat the crap out of her, Lyncoln.”

  He sighs. “Maybe he’s just going along with the original plan to not further piss off Hadenfelt in case he gets wind. That makes more sense than him actually giving a damn about her. Or else he wants to win to further his dad’s legacy and thinks he can do that now with her father gone.”

  I definitely don’t like that thought. I don’t want to think of Henry as competition. I stop Lyncoln by putting my hands on his massive chest. “Seriously. It’s fine. Everyone has already voted so it doesn’t affect anything tonight, or at least not this vote anyway. If I don’t care, why do you?”

  “Because when I got down on one knee, I knew I would only do it once,” he shakes his head and reaches to kiss the knuckles above my engagement ring. “He knows what kind of marriage his parents had. He wants that. So why would he insult the institution of marriage by proposing to someone he doesn’t even really like?”

  When he puts it that way, I don’t really have an argument.

  ****

  Hours later, I’m dressed again and ready to go. I’m wearing a rather interesting dress choice of Frank’s. My dress looks like it’s two pieces, although it’s really just one. The top is taupe colored and has designs of jewels making it sparkle. It has a square cut on the front with sleeves off my shoulders. In the back it connects where the sleeves meet and then opens beneath that, leaving my back bare. At my hips the dress turns red and is tighter fitting. It flows straight to the floor, with, of course, a slit up one leg. Albeit a proper one. So it looks like I’m wearing a red skirt with a taupe colored sparkly top, but really it’s one dress. It is equally elegant and beautiful. My hair is braided half up and to the side to accentuate the open back. I love all of it immensely, it may be one of my favorites. Top five for sure.

  Lyncoln is wearing a tan suit, a light blue and red gingham shirt, tan vest, and red tie. I don’t know how Frank always matches us together so perfectly, but his tie color is exactly the same color as my dress. Lyncoln has had a haircut today and is freshly shaven and smelling amazing as usual. His muscles are everywhere, and I am not a bit complaining.

  Holy hotness, he is a masterpiece.

  Gertie and Frank finish some last-minute touches and leave us for a moment before we are to head down.

  Lyncoln just stands, leaning in the doorway to the sitting area of my room, looking me over for the longest time, hands in his pockets, legs crossed at his ankles.

  “What are you doing?” I smile and reach to playfully smack him on the arm since we should be leaving for downstairs now.

  “Drinking you in. Having improper thoughts about you. Take your pick,” he grins wickedly.

  Oh. And just like that, I feel the tingles.

  “You need to marry me, sooner rather than later,” he adds half-serious, half-joking.

  “Okay,” I say as nonchalantly as if we were talking about the weather while I reach to grab my matching clutch.

  “Regs, I’m serious.” He grabs one of my hands and gives it a kiss on the palm and a squeeze to get my attention, then puts his hands back in his pockets in the typical Lyncoln pose that I adore.

  I look him dead in the eyes. “So was I.”

  He had my full attention. Oddly enough, I would marry this man tomorrow if I could. I know sometimes we argue and fight, and we aren’t perfect, but that’s life. After the last three weeks of doubts, I find myself now feeling the opposite… overwhelming optimism that we can figure out whatever life throws at us, together. The results of tonight matter infinitely less than I felt they did last night. I have more trust and confidence in this man than I ever did before. His telling me the truth last night slaughtered every single one of my doubts. The only one that would remain would be what if we lose tonight and I don’t ever get to see my family, but even then, I just know we’d figure it out.

  He slowly grins. “You would marry me? Now? Right this minute?”

  “Well, I think I’m wearing the wrong color of dress tonight, but sure.” This makes him grin even bigger, a rare all-out Lyncoln grin that stuns me. “Although I think there needs to be one more vote before becoming Mrs. Reed.”

  He smirks and almost groans. “Mrs. Reed. God, I love the sound of that. You’ll have my name and forever be mine.” He looks me over intensely.

  “I have been for a while now, Lync.” I smile shyly.

  He does groan this time. “I want to kiss you senseless right now, but we are due downstairs. You ready? To get this over with? Before we skip it altogether and go get hitched instead?”

  I laugh but reach to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Dougall would crap her pants.”

  He nods, smiling, while rubbing his hand across my bare back. “She would.”

  I take a deep breath. “Yes, I’m ready. Nervous, but ready.”

  He leans in to kiss my forehead. “You’re mine. It will be fine. As long as I have you, the rest is just details.”

  I give him a quick smooch. “Yes, but I want it all. I feel lots better after last night, now being in the lead, but still. I want you. I want my family here. I want the presidency. I want the happily ever after. I guess I’m just greedy like that.”

  ****

  Downstairs is chaotic and loud. There is excitement in the air at a level I haven’t felt before except maybe on the tour to Omaha when Lyncoln got down on one knee. We spend quite a while talking to Attie and Knox, who seem in good spirits despite starting the evening in third place.

  Word must have gotten out about Hadenfelt and his followers because I notice wherever Marisol goes, whispers follow. Henry, being the class act that he is, keeps his hand in hers and leads her around the room as if nothing is wrong. I still don’t like her enough
to want her to really date him or end up with him, but I’m glad he can be there for her, knowing what she has been through.

  I wonder at what point tonight the big proposal will go down. I’m torn thinking about it. Am I jealous? Not really. I want Henry to be happy even though it wasn’t that long ago I was wondering if I myself had a future with him. I’m more torn because I think he feels like he’s obligated to do this. If they do win, which is likely, he will marry her anyway because that’s just the way it’s done. He isn’t the type of man to have women on the side either, like we know the second and third presidents did. Henry would stick it out with Marisol out of respect for the presidency. Sure, he might eventually learn to love her, but that’s not good enough. A man like Henry deserves far more than that.

  After mingling a while with some of the cabinet members, I’m all too soon ushered to my spot by Lyncoln across the room as we are to await more results.

  This is it.

  The final two.

  The possibility of moving my family to Denver. It all comes down to this.

  And I am not at all ready for this. I don’t feel prepared even a little. I don’t feel anything other than nerves, actually. I’ve been so happy with Lyncoln all day. My trust in him is not only restored, but now impeccable. But at the same time, I have this nervous pit in my stomach. What if we just fixed one problem and tonight we get kicked out and handed a brand-new problem?

  Lyncoln pulls me into his chest for a minute and whispers in my ear, “Stop worrying. I love you.”

  Tears sting my eyes and I smile at him with a nod. Now that I’m done being mad and pouty towards him, I really, really want tonight to move in the correct direction.

  As Dougall is at the podium doing the introductions, more for this being televised than for the rest of us, I try to remind myself that we are already in the lead, so we can do this.

  We can do this.

  Can’t we?

  The blue screen of dream destruction comes to life.

  Here we go…

  Up first are the results from Detroit.

  We have won Detroit! We have 41% of the vote. Attie and Knox have 33%. Marisol and Henry have 26%.

  Holy crap! We won Detroit? In thinking about it for a moment, I know our support from Detroit probably comes from the attack when we were there, and Lyncoln’s having took charge. His military influence and leadership follow him wherever he goes.

  I barely pay attention to the next screen with the running totals because I am just excited to see what Omaha has in store for us. I feel a slight twinge of doubt, if for some reason my home township were to let me down and not pull through for us, it would hurt. It would hurt more than I would like to admit. But I just have to believe that my small township wouldn’t do that to me.

  A few claps and shouts of surprise can be heard as the results are up and we have won Omaha with 71% of the vote. Marisol and Henry have 16%. And Attie and Knox have 13%. I feel a huge smile on my face. Of course Omaha pulled through for me. We are all a great big family.

  The next screen is up, and we are still in the lead. Surprisingly, it’s pretty tight between Attie and Knox and Marisol and Henry. If for some odd reason Marisol and Henry go home, it would be the cherry on top of all the events of the last 24 hours. Attie and Knox are more deserving to be here. No, Marisol isn’t all bad like we thought she was, but her part in this, even forced, doesn’t make it fair for her to win.

  Finally, Seattle results pop up. We have won there too, but barely. We have 44% of the vote. Marisol and Henry have 43%. And Attie and Knox have 13% of the vote.

  Crap. It isn’t looking good for Attie and Knox. A part of me is getting eaten alive with guilt. If they were this close to beating Marisol and Henry half-heartedly campaigning, what could they have done if they would’ve really gone after it, not doubting themselves?

  Just like last time, another screen pops up with the Board votes tallied in with the total. Again, they don’t give us the percentage of panel votes. But, with their votes added in, we hold first with 48% of the vote. Marisol and Henry are in second with 27%. And Attie and Knox come in third with 25% of the vote.

  We freaking did it!

  My immediate reaction is a flood of relief. Even if we don’t win the whole shebang, now either Lyncoln or I don’t have to go without our families. The one thing that could possibly tear us apart is no longer an issue. With last night and tonight, I feel so confident in our relationship that I think we could take on anything right now. I love that man. I love my family. Now I can officially have both.

  Right next to that relief, I feel guilt… again. Attie and Knox are out. I think they could have done it. I know they definitely deserve it.

  Next thing I know, I feel strong hands around the back of my neck and am eye level with Lyncoln. “Babe, you did it.”

  I smile. “No, we did.”

  He kisses me lightly and pulls me into his arms for a moment. I forget for a split second that we are in a room with about a hundred people and cameras broadcasting everything. Instead, I focus on his beating heart. The heart of a man that saved all of us and purged the Hadenfelts from Denver almost singlehandedly.

  Finally pulling away from him, I move to find my way to Attie. We also have a long embrace.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper sadly in her ear as we hug.

  “I’m not,” she whispers back.

  We all reposition at the front around the podium where they are to give their farewell speech and we are to give our congratulatory ones. On one hand I’m so happy I could squeal a high-pitched girly sound, but on the other hand, I have to say goodbye to my very best friend.

  This sucks. My family gets to come to Denver, but this still majorly sucks. Attie’s doesn’t. Suck, suck, suck!

  Knox goes first and thanks the nation for their votes and the opportunities given to them. He mentions each township and what he has learned. Attie is up next and is as elegant and cheerful as ever. She nails her speech as usual and ends by saying, “Although we didn’t win, I know without a doubt there is a couple here that will make the best Presidential Couple. Don’t worry; our country is in the best and most capable hands,” she winks right at me.

  I smile. I’m sure the cameras don’t pick up on that, but it’s still nice for her to almost publicly give her support for us.

  Marisol and Henry go after that, and Henry seems more relaxed than he has been in weeks. Shortly into his speech, he thanks Marisol for being a good “partner”. I want to laugh at that, but then he is getting on one knee and opening a small box. A definite ceasefire on the laughing.

  I take a deep gulp of air and hold it. Lyncoln gives my hip a squeeze with his hand resting there.

  Marisol acts surprised even though she knew the whole thing was coming because her dad wanted this weeks ago. I watch as she says yes and they embrace in a hug and a quick peck of a kiss. I feel a little annoyed with the whole charade, but it is what it is.

  Only in this messed up situation would Henry propose to someone he doesn’t even love. He said he still loved me, yet here he is proposing to her. And don’t get me wrong, I don’t want him to be in love with me anymore. But, I do think if he proposes, it should be to the girl he loves and not to the girl he feels obligated to. No matter how many times I think about this whole proposal, at the end I always conclude that it’s a) stupid, and that b) Henry deserves more. So I guess I may as well stop thinking about it.

  Although I try not to constantly compare Lyncoln and Henry anymore, I do once more. Would Lyncoln have proposed because someone else wanted him to? No. He just isn’t that type of man. I’m surprised he even proposed to me publicly in the first place.

  Marisol’s speech is a joyful one and the crowd is into it. I’m about to roll my eyes and then am stopped in my tracks by her next statement.

  “I don’t think it’s a secret that my dad and Henry’s dad haven’t always seen eye to eye. I’m here to tell you that the bad blood in Denver is gone for good. I know the
type of man Henry is. He will never let any of us down. Thank you for this opportunity. Thank you for allowing us some grace to try to figure out our own paths, separate from our fathers.”

  Point: Marisol.

  So she isn’t giving up anytime soon.

  Game on.

  ****

  Having danced the night away after our speeches and having been as publicly lovey-dovey with Lyncoln as I could because I was feeling insecure about what Marisol said in her speech, I’m tired and my feet are officially done for. We only danced a few times on the nights of the other results, but tonight everyone is in such a good mood and no one is leaving, so a spur of the moment ball has begun.

  Everyone is in good spirits, everyone but me it seems. I mean, I’m ecstatic about my parents coming to Denver, and wondering how and when all that will take place, but I am also annoyed with Marisol and even a little with Henry right now. My best friend got knocked out of the competition by their fakeness. And now with Hadenfelt gone, they both seem to really want to win this. As close as we are to the Culling being over, it definitely isn’t over.

  And Henry’s intentions? Where are they now? I know Lyncoln has been skeptical of them this entire time. I can’t help but be a little now too with his still proposing.

  “Not that I’m complaining any, but you are all over me tonight, gorgeous.” Lyncoln grins as he pulls me in even closer as we dance.

  “Just proving a point,” I offer.

  “That you aren’t mad they got engaged?” he asks confused. “Are you trying to convince yourself or me or everyone else? I thought you were good with it.”

  I roll my eyes and playfully punch him. “No, I am good with it. Really. I am. I’m just trying to be real, like how we are behind closed doors when we can’t keep our hands off one another. What we have is real. What they have isn’t. That’s my point. I just wish everyone else could see it when it’s so apparent to me.”

 

‹ Prev