Page 69

“You fucker.” Kyle shakes his head. “I told you to back off after the first time.”

“I remember.” Shawn raises a shoulder and leans back, getting comfortable. “And I did, just not completely. She's too fun to fuck with. Plus… well, this way I'll get the VP spot one way or another.”

“You're so fucked up,” Kyle says, exhaustion in his tone. He swipes a palm down his face before leaning forward to grip the edge of the pool table, head dangling between his shoulders. A pang of sympathy hits me in the chest. Yes, he's mean and manipulative and an arrogant ass, but he's still a man. A man who seems to be in over his head.

If only we could work together, give each other a high five and figure this shit out that he's gotten himself into. But that will never happen. He's too arrogant to listen to me. Hell, I've heard he doesn’t even listen to his press secretary or advisors. Why in the hell would he listen to me if he doesn't even value their opinions?

“One way or another?” I ask, the only question I can form that makes sense.

Shawn just continues to smile.

“Drop the investigation. The inquiries. Fuck, drop even the thought of getting me out of office,” Kyle says softly, palming the cheek I hit.

“You know I can’t do that,” I reply with a shake of my head for emphasis. “It's abuse of power, Kyle. I can't sit back and let this mess you’ve gotten our country into unfold when I know I could've done something.”

Well, there it is. Gone is the illusion of Sam being the one working the investigation. If Kyle is smart, he’ll realize I just admitted to helping the DOJ and am now in direct conflict of my agreement with him and the Birmingham estate.

“Told you Miss Self Righteous wouldn't drop it.” I narrow my eyes at Shawn. “You should've just let me take her out like I suggested.” Carefully unfolding himself, he stands and dusts off some invisible lint from the sleeve of his dark blue dress shirt. “I still can.”

I follow his questioning look across the room to Kyle, who shakes his head.

“You're talking about killing me,” I say, astounded. “Right in front of me? For real?”

Kyle sighs and leans against the edge of the pool table. “Just stop looking for the answers, Walmart. Don't push me on this. Don't make me be the person who takes it too far.”

Like Shawn.

“Didn't you already?” I ask, poking the pool cue in his direction. “You put a hit out on me!” I shriek. “You tried to poison me!”

“How the fuck do you know about that?”

I open my mouth only to snap it shut again. Well, shit. Can't really tell him I'm BFFs with the Russian president. Pretty sure he'd skewer me right here if he knew I had access to that kind of information.

“Don't give him all the credit,” Shawn says behind me, now too close for comfort. I swing the pool cue around, ready to defend myself.

A commotion outside the room draws our attention.

“Seems your fuck buddy has had enough of waiting.” Shawn sneers.

“Randi.” I whip my head toward Kyle. Again the exhaustion and fear shine through his posture and tired eyes. “I will take everything you love. Remember that when your morals get in the way of doing the smart thing.”

My knees go weak. “Okay,” I whisper. “You have my word. I'll talk Sam out of the investigation.” I suck in a deep breath. “Please don't hurt her.” My voice trembles.

“What a waste,” Shawn bites out. “I should just finish this now.”

“Shawn,” Kyle growls. “I cannot add her murder investigation to my plate right now.”

“Wow,” I snap. “Sorry if me dying would be an inconvenience to you.”

“Not enough time in the day,” Kyle muses. “Follow through with Sam, Walmart, and Taeler stays safe. And you.” He levels a hard stare at Shawn, who appears unaffected by the ire in Kyle’s glare. “Stop it with the assassination talk. Someone will hear you. And while we're at it, stop whatever else you're doing.”

Shawn stuffs his hands into the front pockets of his tailored suit pants. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I told you to fucking stop after the first time, and now I'm telling you again. Stop it with that shit. It's a cunt thing to do.”

“Oh, like putting a hit out on her and changing your mind at the last minute to only scaring her?” Shawn scoffs. “Weak-ass pussy.” Rolling his shoulders, he angles his head left and then right. “No wonder those fuckers pulled one over on you. Weak.”

Agitation rolls off Kyle. He stands tall, puffing his chest out in a dominating move. Eyes wide, I take a step back, not wanting to be anywhere between these two. It seems not all is hunky-dory in their odd friendship.