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I really need to make a list. A kill list, sans the kill part.

What would that make it?

“Think your mom will help us find dirt on Kyle?” I ask absentmindedly.

I can't call it my “to do” list. That makes it sound sexual, and the last men on Earth I’d “do” are number one and two on that list.

“Probably not. It's one thing to help us stop the bill, but this is….”

“My level of crazy but not hers,” I say with a genuine smile. It’s cool. I know it sounds a little off thinking I can take the two on. But one of them just tried to kill me—again—so all sanity has left the building. If it ever resided there in the first place, that is.

“Exactly.” Leaning forward, he brushes a barely there kiss along my lips. “I'm going to get the doctor.”

I watch as he crosses the small room, checking out his muscular calves, flexing thighs, and round ass. Biting my lip, I stare at that ass until the door closes behind him.

“Down, girl,” T says, humor in his light tone. “So, we're going after Birmingham and Whit.”

I nod. “I think Kyle first since the DOJ already wants him gone as well, and then we focus on Shawn. The easiest out would be to get the information needed to impeach Kyle, even though gaining said information wouldn’t be the easiest.”

“We don't know if it was one of them who planted the poison. You’re jumping to conclusions.”

I shrug. “Even if Kyle wasn't directly responsible for today’s incident, we know from the Russian intelligence we were given that he’s contacted people to harm me. I have to do this, T.”

“You realize if you do take these men on, your political career and your life will be at risk even more than they are currently.”

“I don't care about the first. The second, well, that's what you and the guys are for, right?” I shoot him a hopeful grin.

His cheeks bunch with a wide smile. “Hell, woman. You weren't kidding about keeping things interesting.” He chuckles. “Do what you need to do. We've got your back.”

The door swings open, and a doctor walks through with Trey hot on his heels. As the doc goes through the motions of his release checklist, readying me to get the hell out of here, I zone out.

Kyle will get what’s coming to him. Then I’ll tackle the Shawn issue. Not much of a plan, but I’m done sitting back and being on the defensive.

It’s time to take control of the game.

No matter what it takes.

* * *

Two weeks of taking it easy. Two weeks of being waited on hand and foot and meetings coming to me. Two whole weeks of plotting Kyle’s demise, and still I have zero clue as to how. Sam is still optimistic that I'll somehow gain information on the oil scam he has going on, but I'm not so sure. If the poison was planted by Kyle, or someone he paid off, then he already knows I'm working with the DOJ and will keep things even closer to his chest than ever before.

No, the original way to help Sam is scrapped. It has to be something else. Or another way for me to gain the information we need without involving Kyle at all.

I do have another way, but… do I really want to involve the Russians with Sam around? That relationship is controversial at best, but do I really have another choice?

This is what I've debated back and forth while lounging around the house, hating the easy life. Outside of this beautiful prison, life has continued. My various community projects are performing well under those I've selected to lead them. Small positive impacts for those living below the poverty line are dotting up all over the map. Which is good since my mind is elsewhere.

Trey's annoyed voice reaches my ears where I sit in the living room. Unpretzeling my legs, I quietly press my toes to the vintage rug beneath the couch. Tiptoeing across the floor, I let my ear lead me, hoping to catch bits and pieces of his conversation as I creep toward the open french doors.

“You know I can't,” he says, voice tight. “Don't ask me that again.” I hold my breath so he doesn't hear me through a long pause in the private conversation. Taking a step closer, I stay hidden behind the wall and angle my ear closer to the door. “Stay at your place until I can get there, then.” My heart drops. “I gotta go. Yeah, bye.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, I seal my back against the wall as his footsteps draw closer. He searches the room as he steps across the threshold, gaze darting until he finds me.

I wave.

Wave.

I'm the vice president of the United States, and I just gave a spirit finger wave. Go me. I’m so winning this day.