Caught by the Chief of Staff (A Presidential Affair Book 2)

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Caught by the Chief of Staff (A Presidential Affair Book 2) Page 12

by Jennifer Rebecca


  “Yes,” I answer him, meeting his gaze and showing him that I’m neither lying nor afraid. He accepts my answer with a nod.

  “When was this?” Jake asks.

  “March,” Rick and I reply at the same time.

  “About when we were assigned to cartel op?” Jake asks with a raised brow.

  “The one and the same,” Rick growls.

  “Well,” Jake says, steepling his fingers together and reminding me of the little poem Rachel would recite when she was a toddler as she folded her chubby fingers the same way. “That is interesting.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Rick states casually, making Captain Black lose his patience.

  “Care to share with the fucking class?” Black barks.

  “Yes,” Jake says, clearly enjoying riling up his aide. “As you know, Rick and I were on the same SEAL team. On one deployment, we were presented with an off-the-books mission. It seemed… off. But we were young and dumb and weren’t necessarily in the market to question orders that came from way above our pay grade.”

  “Or we would have, if I hadn’t been on a one-man suicide mission,” Rick adds, making me gasp.

  “No,” I say before I can stop myself.

  Rick gives me a sad smile. “I was pretty messed up after my wife left me,” he says. “I jumped at any mission they gave me. It didn’t matter how dangerous. And if it seemed like a one-way ticket, even better.”

  “Rick—”

  “And I was there for my brother,” Jakes says. “And I had no intention of running for office when my dad retired.”

  “But this one was different,” Rick finishes.

  “Different, how?” Black asks.

  “It didn’t go as planned and people died,” Rick admits.

  “And you think this mission is connected?” he asks the two of them.

  “Yes,” they both say in unison.

  “Why?”

  “Because of what the blackmailers mentioned,” Jake replies.

  “They said, ‘Old ghosts will rise, and others will pay the price. Pass the bill or pay the price,’” Black recites.

  “No,” Rick corrects. “It said the ‘Old Ghost’ as in singular and—”

  “My old callsign,” Jake inserts.

  “Someone knows way more than they should,” Rick says, sending chills down my spine.

  “Who else would know about that op?” Captain Black asks.

  “We should call Wes and Lee,” Rick says from beside me.

  “Just to warn them, but that op was after they got out,” Jake agrees with him.

  “I’ll call now and put it on speakerphone,” Rick suggests, and Jake nods in agreement.

  Rick slips his phone out of his pocket, the one with the new sim card, and swipes his finger across the glass to unlock it when he types in his code. He selects the phone app and dials in a number by heart before pressing the speakerphone button. The ringing sound fills the room, and we all collectively hold our breath.

  “Special Agent O’Connell,” a deep voice answers. Wes was one of the few friends I met when Rick and I were dating. It was only once in a bar in San Diego, but he was kind and welcoming, even if there was an almost sad aura around him.

  “It’s Donovan,” Rick says.

  “And Chancey,” Jake says.

  “Well why wasn’t I invited to the party?” Wes laughs.

  “It’s not so much a party,” Rick says darkly. “But we’ll get to that in a minute.”

  “You wouldn’t be near Goodie’s office, would you?” Jake asks, always the diplomatic one. Rick used to be just as charismatic and yielding. Is this what I did to him? Did I make him this brute of a man? Something tells me I better be prepared for the answer when it comes, because it won’t be a sweet and gentle fairy tale.

  “No,” Wes answers. “With Claire on desk duty now that she’s as big as a house, and if you repeat that, I will not only deny ever having said it, but I will help her hide your miserable fucking bodies.”

  “So pregnancy agrees with your blushing bride?” Jake laughs, which is ironic, because Grace is just as terrifying. She looks at me, and I can tell she knows what I’m thinking, because she raises a delicately sculpted brow—the one she cussed me out over while I waxed them—at me in challenge. I just stick my tongue out at her and shrug, making her laugh.

  “No fucking way,” Wes grumbles. “I love her, but she’s a monster.”

  “That sounds like how Angie was.” Jules laughs.

  “I was just thinking the same,” Grace agrees with her on the antics of their college friend I’ve only ever heard about secondhand. She was at the inauguration; I just didn’t have time to meet her, because the newly minted Chief of Staff was dragging me from the building to have his wicked way with me.

  “So Goodie isn’t around?” Jake asks, bringing the conversation back around.

  “No,” Wes says, and I can hear his heavy sigh across the line. “With Claire on desk duty and miserable, he’s having to cover her field work. There’s something heating up in the area that sounds like it might be ready to shift to my office, but I’m actually out of town at the moment working another case. I’ll be happy to pass the word on though.”

  “Something has come up here, and it looks like it’s linked to a mission we carried out after you guys got out, but I just wanted to give you the heads up,” Jake tells him.

  “Funny you should mention that,” Wes says, not sounding like anything is funny at all. “The case I’m working on?”

  “Yeah?” Rick says.

  “I’m in Virginia. Palmer is dead.”

  “What?” Rick asks.

  “When?” Jake questions.

  “It’s recent,” Wes answers. “He ate a bullet.”

  “Fuck,” Rick bites out. “I didn’t know he was struggling.”

  “No one did,” Wes replies. “I had just seen him at Claire’s shower. He seemed fine.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rick says. “So fucking sorry.”

  “Me too.” Wes sighs. “Anyways, it sounds like there’s more to your story than ‘some shit came up over an old mission.’”

  “You’d be right,” Rick says, closing his eyes tight. “Someone kidnapped my daughter after blackmailing my wife.”

  “I’ll be at your house in D.C. at nine,” he states and then hangs up.

  “Typical Wes,” Rick grumbles, making Jake laugh. “Still calling orders.”

  “Looks like the gang is getting back together.”

  “So what now?” Captain Black asks.

  “I think we need to figure out who could be behind this,” Jake responds.

  “And we need a plan to get my daughter back,” Rick growls.

  “Oo-rah!” Gus, Joe, and Captain Black all shout.

  “I can’t help but feel like this all goes back to getting to the president,” Captain Black says. “I don’t know the story as well as you do, but—”

  “But what?” Rick asks.

  “It all sounds to me like someone is moving the pieces on a chessboard, and it all goes back to the president. I think we need to go way back before they were married. Before Mrs. Donovan was even in the picture.”

  “We’re going to need sustenance for that,” Jules says. “Is there any food in this joint?

  “The freezer and pantry should be fully stocked,” Rick says. “I don’t come out here enough to keep perishables in the fridge.”

  “Excellent,” she says as she claps her hands and jumps up to move into action. Grace tries to jump up too, but her heavy belly has her off balance and a little stuck.

  “Fuck,” she bites out. “Jules, give me a hand or I’ll never get up.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say something, darling?” Jake’s eyes twinkle before he lifts her up like she weighs nothing at all and sets her on her feet. “There you go.”

  “Yes, thank you,” she says, making it sound like a blatant threat. Jake pats her on her backside, making her growl before she stomps off into the kitch
en behind Jules.

  “Uhh… I should go make sure she doesn’t poison the president,” I say, making the room chuckle to various degrees.

  Rick just smiles at me. “I think they’ll be fine,” he says to me before placing a gentle kiss on my temple.

  “Now, where were we?” Captain Black asks.

  “Whispers of Collusion Smack White House”

  Chapter 16

  Power doesn’t come cheap

  “I’ll… uhh… just go see to that coffee,” I say as I stand up to scurry out of the room. The sound of masculine chuckles following behind me.

  “She’s not used to so much talk of missions and political intrigue,” I hear Rick say quietly as I walk away.

  “How much did you share with her when you were married?” Captain Black asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “Ouch,” he replies to Rick.

  “I’m regretting that now.”

  “She saved your life,” I hear him whisper just as I slip into the kitchen, but it’s Rick’s words that ring in my ears and play over and over in my head, and probably will for the rest of my life.

  “I know.”

  “Cara?” I look up when I hear Jules calling my name. “Honey, are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “They’re kind of scary out there.”

  She gives me a knowing smile that I wonder more about. “I think with you they’re more bark than bite.”

  “What about with you?” I ask and immediately wish I could call the words back into my mouth.

  “What about me?” She laughs, but it doesn’t seem all too genuine. “I can run with the big boys. I don’t need to be cared for.”

  Something about her words makes Grace stop her freezer raid of frozen pizzas and shoots Jules a weird look. I wonder what’s going on there. I look to Grace, and she shakes her head quickly before Jules can see our exchange.

  “I came to help with… whatever it is that’s going on in here,” I say, making both women laugh. “What am I missing?”

  “We were gossiping,” Grace admits.

  “I don’t doubt it,” I add. “Why leave me out? That’s not fair!”

  “We were talking about you,” she admits.

  “Well, thanks for that.”

  “It was all good,” Grace says quickly.

  “It was brave what you did,” Jules adds softly. Her tone surprises me, making my eyes snap back to her. She really means that.

  “Or stupid,” I admit what’s been bothering me the most. “I feel like I’ve done nothing but play into their hands. Whoever they are.”

  I walk over to the coffeemaker; it’s an old Mr. Coffee, and the sight of it makes me smile. I needed this bit of real life in the midst of these powerful people and their fancy shit. I’m more of the blue-collar hanger-on they like for some reason, and I’m not even sure about that. It’s probably Rachel. Everyone loves her.

  I feel a sob bubble up in my chest, and I choke it back while I pour water into the coffeemaker. This is so fucking unfair. I layer a paper filter into the bowl and scoop coffee grounds into it. Rachel loves to paint filters like this one with watercolors and make sun catchers. I have to grip the counter tight at the memory as it hits me like a fist to the belly. How could I have been so stupid? I knew they would make good on their threats, and I took one more night with Rick anyway. He’s my weakness, and he always has been.

  But now it’s going to cost me my only child.

  I don’t even think about what I’m doing as I grab the bag of coffee grounds, hurl them across the kitchen, and scream. I scream with everything I have, because this is all so unfair. I scream and scream, because there’s nothing else I can do.

  “Jake!” I hear Grace shout, but I don’t care. I’m too lost in my grief.

  I drop to my knees and slam my palms against the floor. The coffee grounds grate against my skin. She can’t be gone! I can’t live without her. I lay my forehead down on the old linoleum floor, and tears course down my face. Through it all, I keep screaming. My voice is harsh to my own ears; its rasp is painful to hear.

  “Ryan! Rick!” Jules shouts. “Come quick!”

  I hear heavy footfalls, and still I don’t care. How could I care about anything right now? Or ever again? Nothing matters now. All that matters is Rachel.

  Strong arms close around me and hold me tight. I struggle. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be calm. I want to fight.

  “Hush,” Rick says calmly as he pulls me into his lap, but it only serves to make me struggle more.

  “No!” I scream. In my frantic attempt at flight, I see everyone file out of the kitchen quietly, but I don’t care. “Let me go.”

  “No.”

  “Let me go!” I scream.

  “Never!” Rick roars back. He holds me tighter.

  “You have to let me go,” I cry harder. “This is all my fault.”

  “It’s not.”

  “It is!” I sob as Rick cradles me in his arms. “I could have stopped this.”

  “No, honey,” he says sadly. “They always would have come for me.”

  “Why Rachel?” I rasp, my voice is now completely shattered. “Why my baby?”

  “I’m going to get her back,” Rick promises as he tucks my face into the crook of his neck. “You have to believe me. I’m going to get her back.”

  “It should have been me,” I pant as my chest feels too tight. I can’t get a breath in. I claw at my neck, but it’s no use.

  As it turns out, those were the last words I spoke before everything went black.

  Apparently, now is the time to panic.

  “White House Chief of Staff Moves Ex into His House. Hearts Aflutter”

  Chapter 17

  Settle in

  “Hello?” I hear Rick’s deep voice answer his phone after it rings somewhere deeper in the house, and I open my eyes.

  I feel like shit.

  My throat is rough and scratchy, and my head is pounding. Thick crust coats my eyelashes, and after the epic meltdown I had, I’m guessing I look like a cousin of Quasimodo.

  I look around. I’m lying in a rough pine log bed that’s probably barely a double bed. Matching furniture is scattered all around the room, and bare light-yellow walls that have aged with time, but were obviously still cared for, surround us. On a better day, I would wonder how often Rick finds time to come out here and remember his grandparents, people I had never gotten the chance to meet.

  “Hey, baby,” he says as he sits down in the crook of my legs, his phone call clearly over.

  “Hi,” I say, brushing my hair back from my face. Someone must have taken down my bun.

  “How are you feeling?” Rick smooths the palm of his hand up and down the outside of my thigh. It’s not sexual; it’s comforting, almost like he’s gentling a spooked horse.

  “Like hammered horse shit,” I respond, making him smile enough that the sides of his eyes crinkle. The Rick of my youth didn’t have as many lines around his eyes where now they’re more prominent, yet, but this Rick is older, more seasoned, and no less handsome. If anything, age has made him better-looking.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asks softly.

  “That you got better-looking with age, and I just got old.” I laugh, but the laughter dies in my throat when his palm lands flat on the outside of my ass. The crack was just enough to sting.

  “Ouch, what was that for?” I ask as I rub the skin to soothe the burn.

  “You are not old,” he says while making an angry face. “And I’m still older.”

  “Yeah, but you’re hot and still in great shape,” I admit before patting my tummy. “And I got squishy.”

  “I had no life outside of work before you came back,” he growls. “And I like you soft.”

  “Thanks,” I respond, rolling my eyes.

  “If we were alone, I’d show you how much I like it, but I think you already know.”

  The reminder of where we are and why shoots ice wat
er through my veins, cooling my pique. “Yeah.”

  “Hey,” he says. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “How can you say that?” I demand, pushing up from the bed and away from Rick. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “Like you,” he strikes with his words, ripping my heart in two. “I seem to remember you promising forever and then running at the first hurdle.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “You know what’s not fair?” he asks me but doesn’t give me a chance to answer, which is probably a good thing, seeing as the list of my transgressions grows by the minute. “That I was denied a life with you and our daughter, and now that it’s all out on the table, you’re still running.”

  “I’m not running.”

  “Good,” his voice rumbles in his chest. “Because I think I’ve made myself perfectly clear.”

  “Oh yeah?” I snap. “How’s that?”

  “If you run, I’ll chase you. Simple as that.”

  Simple as that.

  But it’s not. Nothing is simple at all. Rick is lying to himself and me if he thinks this can end well at all. I know he’s just telling me what I want to hear, but I’m tired of lying and being lied to. Why can’t we just be honest with each other? Why does it always have to be so damn complicated between Rick and me? I can’t keep doing this. I said my goodbyes already, so if Rick wants to keep pretending everything will work out all right in the end, that’s fine by me, but I won’t be here to play his games.

  “I need to get back home,” I say as I push to sit up.

  “So that’s how we’re going to play it?” he asks, eyeing me speculatively.

  “Play what, Rick?” I push out a frustrated breath. “I’m not playing at anything.”

  “Sure,” he murmurs. “We can go back home.”

  “Thank you,” I say, letting out the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. It’s a huge relief, if I’m being honest. I was afraid Rick wasn’t going to let me go back to my life, not that I could go back to things the way they were after everything that happened, but I needed space to figure out what I could do to help my daughter. Maybe I could call the kidnappers back and offer a trade, her for me. But I can’t let Rick know that’s the plan, so getting some much-needed space to figure things out and get my head on straight is a huge boon.

 

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