For Immediate Release
Page 21
Perhaps that was Gideon’s nature, but Lance knew Gideon could be so much more than that. Maybe Gideon was coming to the same conclusion.
Lance broke the embrace, and now he felt strong enough to ask, “What’s your plan?”
Amelia attempted to engage Gideon in a look, but he’d turned away his face. “You move forward with your plans. Schrader will deal with the votes. Then, once his plan is complete, Gideon will remove him from power, and I will take over.”
“Oh.” Lance sat back against the couch. She didn’t just want Schrader dead, she wanted his power. Of course. “And me?”
“After Swardson is president, you can do what you want.” She averted her gaze. “I don’t want to have to ask you to keep doing what you’re doing, but if Magnus gets the idea his plans are changing, it’ll tip our hand.”
“And then he’ll kill you instead.” Lance got the measure of the situation.
She wanted power and position, not simple revenge. Vengeance, she probably could have had that a hundred times by now. And if Lance refused to play nice after, she could remove him. Would she lose any sleep over it?
“I’m sorry, Son. It’s him or me. That’s as it’s always been. But this way, if I come out on top, I shouldn’t have to fear reprisals.” She reached for Lance’s hand and he accepted her touch, but he eyed Gideon.
“What about him?”
Gideon turned, eyes mournful but his expression otherwise unreadable. “I’ll be fine, Lance. I agreed to do it, but I wasn’t going to if you didn’t want him dead.”
Lance smiled softly at him. At least someone cared about his opinion. He took Gideon’s hand and nodded. “Then I guess that’s what we’re going to do.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Lance had tossed and turned all night. He didn’t want Gideon to kill his father, didn’t want anyone dead. He wanted his simple life back. As he mulled over his choices, he constantly returned to one very obvious option: He could tell Elliot what was happening.
Surely Elliot would realize what a disaster the whole thing would be. Stealing an election? Being beholden to those people? Even at Lance’s most cynical, he couldn’t believe Elliot wanted that.
Lance gave Elliot a call. It was early yet but he figured Elliot was already up.
He was right. “Hey, sexy. You at home?”
“Yeah. I need to talk to you about something. Is there a good time today, or are you rushed?” Lance went into his wardrobe to pick out something appropriate to wear while crushing Elliot’s dreams.
“No, taking the day off for debate prep. Got the big televised debates on Thursday. I think I can squeeze you in.”
“Where are you prepping? You get a hotel? Somewhere in Austin?” Lance set out his clothes.
“Hilton has a conference room we can use for a few hours today. Want me to get a room?” Elliot sounded flirty, which Lance wanted no part of, but privacy would be good for this discussion.
“Yes. Get us a room. I’ll be by in a bit to listen to you. We can head up later.”
“Perfect.”
At least that part was easy.
The hard part was figuring out how to break the news to Elliot, and how to deal with the fall out.
It took only a few minutes to drive to the downtown Hilton and a couple texts to find the correct conference room.
Watching Elliot in his final preparations—debating stand-ins for the clown car of candidates—that initial spark he’d felt for the man reignited. Elliot sounded driven, brilliant. His cadence was on point, pivots perfect.
Lance thought he saw Schrader lurking in the shadows, but Lance had a shadow of his own. Gideon was somewhere in the building. He’d resumed his service with Corey, the two of them in allegiance with Amelia, probably.
That Gideon would overhear Lance telling Elliot was certain. What he’d do with that information, Lance wasn’t as sure.
He uneasily thought about Amelia’s words, that Lance loved Gideon. Did he love him? Certainly they shared an affinity, and Lance cared deeply what happened to him. There was a shorthand between them, having grown up in such uniquely similar ways. But love... That was complicated. Was Lance even capable of love? And even if Lance was, what were the odds on the cold-blooded killer?
Amelia wouldn’t have said it without a purpose. It was better for her that Lance and Gideon were allied. Pairing them would have obvious benefits.
Unless she was more right than she thought. Lance wasn’t bluffing that he was on his own side, but if Gideon was loyal to Lance, if Gideon loved him, then she’d overplayed her hand.
Could Gideon love him? After realizing his parents’ ambivalence, Lance felt highly unlovable. If Schrader and Amelia didn’t love him, how could a virtual stranger?
Lance didn’t have many cards in this game; he had to play the hand he was dealt. If Gideon was loyal to Amelia, Lance wasn’t sure what would happen after the game ended. Lance might die. Still, that seemed a better result than living in a world where maniacs were in power.
The debate broke up in the middle of Lance’s brooding. A member of security walked by and dropped a key card in Lance’s hand along with the room number. Lance took a deep breath and headed to the elevators.
Gideon waited for him inside. “What’s the plan?”
Lance considered lying, but there was little point in that. “End the game.”
Gideon sighed. “It won’t work.”
“He’s a better man than you think.” Lance stared at his reflection as he hit the button.
“He’s not, but even if he were, Corey’s been recording your liaisons.”
“What?” Lance eyed Gideon, but he’d known that. Why had he asked? “So they’d force him to stay in.”
“Stay in the race or ruin his career and lose his family.” Gideon stared unsettlingly ahead, noncommittal.
“What’s his choice? Stay in and be owned, or get out and be who he is.” Lance folded his arms as the car stopped.
“Not everyone is as viscerally opposed to having masters as you are, Kitten.” Gideon’s lips quirked briefly. It gutted Lance.
What was Gideon trying to say?
The doors rolled open, and Lance stepped out, keeping his back to Gideon until he heard the doors begin to close again. “I don’t know if I could love anyone, but if I could, it wouldn’t be someone who answered to a master.”
Lance waited for the bell to ring before proceeding down the hallway. The silence unsettled him. He felt like every room had an eye at its peephole, watching him go to the Elliot’s room in disgrace, the senator's whore.
But no, not this time.
Inside the room, Lance dropped the card on the end table and sat primly on the bed, waiting. It could be half an hour before Elliot made his way up. That left Lance a lot of time to consider and reconsider his plan. If Gideon wasn’t on Lance’s side, these might be his final moments. He could be removed before Elliot even arrived.
Instinct made him want to call Talia, but he remembered with much regret that she was also Amelia’s creature. The escape offered through Talia had strings attached. Was there ever a more pitiable fool than Lance Gatsby? At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised to find Gretchen had a secret past with Schrader.
Fortunately, before he could further depress himself, the door clicked. Lance held his breath, not sure who would come through the door. He braced for a fight, uncertain why he bothered. Even if he overpowered one minion, another would be sent.
Whose arrival did he fear the most?
Gideon.
Schrader would be terrible, but Lance he wouldn’t do the deed himself. Nor would Amelia. Gideon, though, that would hurt.
In the end, it was only Elliot, smile wide. The door was barely shut before he launched himself at Lance, pulling at his clothes as he tackled him back onto the bed. “God, I missed you so much.”
Lance allowed himself a moment to be swept up in the kiss. It felt good to be wanted, even if it was mostly physical. Warm kisses, hands on his body,
under his shirt, pinching his nipples. He arched his back, then shifted his hips, rubbing against Elliot.
If there was one job Lance was uniquely qualified for, it was meaningless sex. Was he a whore, after all? Maybe he should go with it. He’d deluded himself all these years about so many things.
Maybe he could pretend he had a family, pretend Elliot really cared, that any of this was real, that it meant something.
“Wait.” Lance pressed his hands to Elliot’s chest.
Elliot stopped and gazed down at him. “Can’t. Need to be inside of you. Now.”
He slid his hands down Lance’s torso and went for his belt.
Lance turned his face away from the kiss. “Elliot. Wait.”
“Come on. We’ll talk after. Please.” He bypassed the belt and Lance’s trousers with practiced ease. Shifting his weight, he slipped his legs between Lance’s.
“I need to talk now.”
Elliot slithered down Lance’s body to nuzzle his cock through his briefs. It was intoxicating, but Lance was losing patience.
“I said stop.”
Elliot blinked up at Lance. He frowned but rolled off him with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.”
Lance was tempted to let Elliot know how close to a broken neck he’d just come, but that wasn’t the fight he wanted to have. Elliot’s entitlement was just another reminder as to why this situation was untenable.
Lance zipped up his pants, mustering his dignity.
Elliot pouted. “The least you could do is take your clothes off.”
“Elliot, this is serious.” Refusing to look at him, Lance rose from the bed to put some distance between them. “I need you to take me seriously.”
“I do. I’m sorry I give you the impression that I don’t.” The bed springs creaked. “You inspire me. I wouldn’t have any of this without you.”
Lance could feel Elliot moving toward him, the static from his body edged closer along with his footfalls. “That’s true in ways that I need you to hear.”
Elliot stopped. “What do you mean?”
After a deep breath, Lance turned. “There are forces at work here beyond our control.”
Elliot’s eyes watered. He blinked back tears and averted his gaze. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Lance tilted his head, not sure how Elliot had grasped it so quickly. Then again, given what Elliot said versus his polling results, the fact of his popularity was a pretty glaring irregularity.
“It doesn’t have to be this way. You can quit the race.”
“I know, Lance. I do. And I love you, too, but I have my family…” Elliot took Lance’s hands and kissed his knuckles. “But it means the world to me that you feel that way.”
“Um. What?” Lance watched in horror as the realization dawned on him, and he had to stop himself from laughing.
Elliot grabbed Lance by the back of the neck and kissed him hard. “If you want to cool things down…”
“Elliot.” Lance disentangled himself from Elliot’s grip. “Elliot, the polls are fixed. People who want you to win the presidency are going to use our affair to manipulate you. They’re stealing the election.”
“What?” Elliot staggered backwards until he fell against the bed. “Who?”
“People. Bad people. People you don’t want to owe favors to.” Lance wasn’t ready or willing to divulge names. That would ensure Elliot’s death, not to mention the humiliating truth that the villain was Lance’s own father. “You need to quit the race. Susan knows about the affair; you can blame that. She’ll stick by you.”
Elliot chuckled. “If she’s not going to be first lady, she won’t.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “It was too good to be true, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Lance took a seat next to him and put his arm around Elliot.
“A guy like you into a guy like me. I was an idiot.”
“I was into you. I didn’t come here to seduce you.” Lance squeezed Elliot. How puzzling that was what upset Elliot most. “I was just convenient, I guess.”
“These mystery benefactors, they want me to be president?” Elliot rested his hand on Lance’s knee and squeezed.
“I don’t know that ‘benefactors’ is the right term. They’re thieves and liars, Elliot.” Lance watched Elliot’s hand creep up his inseam.
“This is politics. Everyone’s a thief or a liar. You think CEOs get to where they are by being nice? They’re ruthless.”
“Sure. This is more literal than that, Elliot. They’re willing to thwart the will of the people to get what they…” Lance stared at the ceiling, figuring out how to explain the difference between his parents and CEOs. “They break the law.”
“So they want access to someone who can change the laws to their advantage. Not so different from lobbyists. You really don’t follow politics, do you, Lance?” Elliot caressed Lance’s cheek. “You’re kind of innocent for such a wicked man.”
Lance stood, feeling like a fool. “I thought you’d be upset. I thought you cared about issues and voters.”
“I do, Lance. But I can’t do good for the people without getting in bed with some real sickos one way or the other. It’s the way this game works. The higher the office, the more you have to hold your nose.”
He was right, probably. Maybe. Lance didn’t know. He’d thought Elliot was different.
“I’m so fucking tired of being disappointed with people.” Lance tucked in his shirt and straightened his clothes.
Elliot had the decency to look stricken. He shook his head. “I thought you understood. This game… My wife… This isn’t… This isn’t a fairy tale, Lance.”
“That’s real loud and fucking clear.” Lance checked his pockets for his phone and keys and gave Elliot a final look. “Good night, Mr. President.”
Chapter Sixteen
The elevator dinged just before the doors rolled open. Gideon was there, waiting, because of course he was. He held a gun because Lance had this coming.
Lance gazed at the floor and stepped in beside him. This was it. Gideon had warned him, but Lance hadn’t listened.
He hit the button for the parking garage and tried not to envision the gun pointing at his back. The parking garage was Lance’s hope for escape. Gideon couldn’t shoot him so close to the hotel without attracting attention.
Lance lowered his head as the doors opened on the parking garage and walked through as if being sent to his death. He probably was. He wouldn’t run. What was the point?
“He didn’t care.” Lance looked over his shoulder at Gideon, who slipped one arm through Lance’s companionably and held the gun against Lance’s side.
“Elliot? I didn’t think so.” Gideon hurried Lance out of the garage and then down the street to a lovely, silver, late model Infiniti. It had the look of a rental. “You expect a lot of people. More than what most are capable of, Kitten.”
Gideon opened the passenger-side door and set Lance in before moving to the driver’s side.
Another moment when Lance could’ve escaped, or at least raised a fuss. But no, Lance belted himself in. Gideon did likewise and then started the car. He’d pocketed his gun; he probably knew he didn’t need it. Lance was lamb to the slaughter.
As Gideon drove to I-35, Lance gazed at him. “I’m glad it’s you.”
“Are you?” The corner of Gideon’s lips curled up, and something sparkled behind his eyes as he briefly assessed Lance. “Why is that?”
Lance rested against the seat. They were headed toward San Antonio. Probably back to Schrader. Interesting.
“Because I think you care. Maybe not a lot, I don’t know. I just think you understand.”
“Hm.” Gideon navigated traffic gracefully, no real aggression even though 35 was always a mess. “That’s possible, though you’re very complicated. I’m not sure anyone will ever really understand you.”
Lance exhaled heavily and directed the air conditioning against his skin. Being this honest made his skin flush, even if he was spe
aking in abstractions. “Least of all myself, I guess. But you know what I mean. You get what it is to be betrayed, to be…”
He had to stop. What did he really know about Darwin’s plans? Having an affair with Amelia would’ve been complicated, and certainly he hadn’t had Gideon’s welfare in mind when he did it, but could he have envisioned everything that followed?
As if reading Lance’s mind, Gideon asked, “That’s something we never grow out of, isn’t it? The idea our parents should make us their priority?”
Gideon raised a brow in challenge before returning his attention to the freeway. “My challenge is to let go of vengeance. That can’t be my priority anymore. As far as goals go, it was enough to keep me going for a while. But now…”
“Yeah.” Lance peered up at the clouds, suddenly struck with dread about where they were going and what was going to happen next.
In the shifting sands, Lance figured Gideon was allied to Amelia. Yet they were heading toward Schrader as far as he knew.
Unless they were going to some undisclosed location where it would be easier to dispose of a body.
“You said you wouldn’t kill my dad if I didn’t want you to.”
“I did.” Gideon’s jaw flexed, though he didn’t seem to be angry. Resigned, maybe.
The magnitude of what Gideon had promised him sank in, fluttering in Lance’s chest with possibilities he couldn’t wrap his mind around. He’d asked it of Gideon so casually, given how Lance had treated him.
Gideon deserved better. He’d been as destroyed by their parents’ machinations as Lance… More so, given where Gideon ended up. Maybe Lance would be the first to die, but Gideon hadn’t really lived.
Regretful, Lance took Gideon’s hand and wove their fingers together. “I won’t tell you not to do, if you need to do it. I mean, after.”
“After?” Gideon squeezed Lance’s hand and shot him a quick glance. His brow furrowed and then he smirked. “I’m not going to kill you, Kitten.”
Lance blinked. “No?”
“No.” Gideon brought Lance’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles.