Page 24 of Accepted Precedent (Love & Politics #3)

Mickey

ONE YEAR LATER

W aking up to Evelyn’s perfect, naked body tucked into me every morning isn’t enough.

This past year has been the hardest of my life, hiding our relationship away from the world.

Andrew works late most nights, and I can’t remember the last time he touched Evie.

It has to be months, and I feel like we’re losing him.

He’s cold, distant, as if the two of us have traded places this past year.

Something’s not right.

Evie stirs, rubbing her arse against my now-hard cock, pulling me from my overthinking. I kiss her shoulder and whisper against her skin, “What are you up to, angel?”

“Nothing,” she sings, then lets out a whimper as I slide my hand between her legs. “We don’t have time.”

“We always have time.” I slip two fingers inside her, and I’ll never tire of her delicious moans.

“I… I have to get ready for Jaclyn’s wedding.”

“You’re not in the wedding, just attending, so we have time,” I counter. “Also, there may not be a wedding.” I inwardly chastise myself for the slip-up.

Glancing over her shoulder, she pins me with a glare. “What are you up to, Mr. Gallagher?”

“The less you know, the better, love.” I drag my fingers from her and bring them to my mouth, desperate for a quick taste of her. If we stay here any longer, she’ll pull the truth from me. “You should get ready.”

Evie shifts to face me, brows still furrowed. “Please tell me you’re not going to let my best friend marry that cheating piece of shit.”

I swipe my thumb between her brows, softening her expression. “I can’t tell you how, but I promise if I have any say in it, Ms. Taylor won’t marry that arsehole.”

“Thank you, Mick,” she sighs in relief. “She deserves better.”

Pairing Christopher Blake with the Washington darling was a good idea in theory, but once he had a taste of power, it went to his head. If I can’t control him, he won’t step foot in the Oval.

Evie closes the distance, bringing her lips to mine.

Her kisses are sweet and gentle, and I love when she’s soft like this—only for me.

Always the light to my dark. Mine. I groan as we break apart, and as she slips out of bed, I can’t help admiring her incredible curves. It hurts to not have her in my space.

She saunters off to the ensuite, teasing a glancing over her shoulder. “Join me for a shower?”

“Sure.” I can never say no to this woman— my woman.

As much as I want to make love to her this morning, there isn’t enough time to properly worship her.

We make quick work of washing the night off us, but I can’t resist stealing kisses.

She was always supposed to be mine, and I’ll never get enough of her.

Part of me hates that she’s now on birth control.

On days like today, I’m overcome with the need to breed my little angel, but she would have to pretend it’s Andrew’s—which would kill me.

Once we’re dried off, I change into a suit without a tie while she prepares for the wedding, which should be canceled by now.

I haven’t heard from Christopher’s aide, Cara, and I’m getting nervous.

She’s been on my payroll for a few years and was the perfect woman to tempt the philandering arse. He’s never been able to resist her.

I check the location tracking on her phone, and it appears she’s in a car.

It doesn’t make sense; if she left him, she should’ve called me.

I can’t risk talking to her if she’s with him, so I send a quick message to one of my fixers before pocketing my phone in my jacket.

Someone will need to finish the job if she didn’t.

After a few deep breaths, I step behind Evelyn at her vanity as she puts on the diamond earrings I bought her nearly a decade ago. My heart swells; she kept them all these years. I help with the necklace and press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Beautiful.”

“Of course they are. You bought them,” she laughs. Her breath hitches as I trail my lips along her jaw and suck hard on her neck to mark her, grazing my teeth on the now-sensitive, dark pink spot. “Damn it! Now I’ll need to cover that up.”

“Don’t you dare. You know I wasn’t talking about the jewelry. I have to get going, love. Have you heard from Andrew?”

She nods. “Yeah, he said he’ll meet me at the venue.” I lean in, about to kiss her goodbye, when my phone vibrates in the breast pocket of my jacket. “You going to get that?”

“No, darlin’.” I close the small distance and don’t fucking care that I’m smearing her lipstick. If things were different, I’d bend her over right here, more than happy to be seen in public with her looking well-fucked… and mine.

My phone buzzes again, and this time I reluctantly check it, hoping it’s Cara. It isn’t, but I’m glad it’s Dave, who I’ve tasked with calling in Christopher’s heart attack. This wedding can’t happen, and I need good news.

Dave Smith

Boss, we have a problem.

Project Boutineer was unsuccessful.

Fuck.

“Sorry, angel, I have to deal with this. I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Evie deserves better than me rushing out of here, but there are bigger things at stake. I press a final kiss to her lips, then click the call icon next to his name as I leave the room. “What happened?”

“I was outside of the hotel, waiting for Cara’s text, but it never came.

She could’ve got the dosage wrong. So I just waited longer.

About thirty minutes later, they both walked out and retrieved their car from a valet.

They drove off and… Fuck, Mick! This is the most fucked-up thing I’ve seen in a while. ”

“Spit it out!”

“She was, well… her head was twisted in the crash as if she was giving him a blowie on impact. He ran the car off the road. She’s dead; he’s unconscious."

“Dead? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure! The arsehole drove off the road—likely mid-orgasm. He finally had a heart attack and?—”

“That’s enough,” I snap. “Is her location correct?”

“Yes, boss.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

I button my jacket and rush out to the sedan waiting for me. They’re only ten, maybe fifteen minutes away. When I arrive at the scene, there are several emergency vehicles, and I pull up the local fire chief’s number and click call.

“Huffman,” he answers as if he doesn’t know it’s me.

“Chief Huffman. As you’re aware, your team was dispatched to a scene. I need it to disappear.”

His gruff reply pierces loud enough through the receiver I have to turn it down. “And how the fuck do you expect me to make that happen, Mickey?”

“Figure it out. I need your team out of here within the next two minutes, or we’re going to have problems.” I hang up, and less than a minute later, the men file into their trucks and drive off.

“Boss?” Dave hedges. “I did a quick assessment, and it looks like it was a delayed response to the overdose.”

Fucking hell. Can’t anyone properly do their job?

“Aye, it’s a fuckin’ mess. We need to keep this quiet. I’ll see if Ned or someone else is available for cleanup.”

Dave catalogs everything while I call Finn. He picks up on the second ring, greeting, “Hey, Mick, have you heard from Cara?”

“You’re not going to believe this!” I take a deep breath. “She got the dosage wrong. The heart attack didn’t hit until he was driving to the venue— No, don’t fuckin’ touch them, Dave— He fucking killed her.”

Finn snaps, “Killed her? How? When?”

“In a car accident. He is supposed to be married in?—”

“An hour, I know,” he groans. “Did he die?”

“No. Her face was in his lap.” I take a closer look. “Snapped her neck on impact. I want to transport him off-site. Who can we trust with this?”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll contact the Blakes to see what they want to do.”

“I’ll do my best to keep everything quiet here. Let me know as soon as it’s taken care of.”

I hang up, trusting my brother to manage any political fallout.

Christopher’s heart attack was supposed to cause him to stand Jaclyn up for the wedding.

She’d be humiliated, but it would prevent him from having any chance of running for President.

The bastard couldn’t keep his cock in his trousers, and now I have to clean up vehicular manslaughter and figure out his medical care while he recovers.

The story that he got into an accident on his way to the venue could garner sympathy from the public.

We need to stick to the original plan where she is left at the altar.

The last thing I want is him weaseling out of this one.

We’ll have to find a place to keep the accident off anyone’s radar. I own a building in Alexandria that could work, so Dave and I glove up and load Christopher into the back of his sedan, then adjust Cara to make it appear as if she was driving.

Ned arrives at the scene, and I couldn’t be more grateful for his help with this one. “Well, Mr. Gallagher, what do we have here?”

“Just Christopher Blake doing what he does best—fuckin’ everything up,” Dave answers for me.

Ned adjusts his glasses and blows out a long breath. “Will this one be a slice and dice to make him disappear? I haven’t used my wood chipper in a while. Or do we need to save him?”

“Save him… for now.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he grumbles. “We’re having his brother, Alex, brief the family.

Once they decide on a story, let me know what you want to do.

For now, I’ll transport Christopher to the location you sent me and ensure there is minimal press around the accident.

I’ll warn you right now, this one is going to be pricey. ”

“Why the hell couldn’t he have died in the accident? It would’ve been so much cleaner—and cheaper.”

We finish staging the accident while Ned transports Christopher to our facility and arranges for an entire medical staff to meet them there.

Part of me hopes that he sustained serious injuries, internal bleeding, or something to warrant us ending his life.

The last thing we want is for him to be seen as a hero after cheating on his fiancée—on their wedding day, no less.

An image of Evelyn and Andrew the morning they were married briefly dances across my mind, but I quickly brush the thought away.

I grab Cara’s phone and destroy it, then call in the accident on my own. We need to leave the scene before emergency services arrive, and as I get in the car, my phone buzzes in my palm with an incoming text from Finn’s new favorite little pawn.

Alexander Blake

I’m standing in for Chris.

The Taylors have been briefed.

The Taylors? Fucking hell, can’t anyone follow instructions today?

I call Ned, and everything has gone from bad to worse.

He confirms that Alex spoke with Jaclyn’s family and will be pretending to be his twin for the wedding.

Chris will be legally married to Jaclyn, which puts him back on track to the Oval.

If he succeeds, I’ll need to secure the rest of Congress to ensure he doesn’t destroy this county.

The man doesn’t believe in climate change and tried to ban queer books in his state.

Alex, on the other hand, would make an amazing President, but insists he does more good as Senator.

With everything shifting, I want to focus my attention on Jaclyn.

She’s not ready to lead—spent too many years in the shadows like Ileah and Evelyn.

Those poor women have been forced to dim their light for the men in their lives, and it’s about time they shine.

Once we arrive at the facility, we make our way through a labyrinth of doors and code boxes. My favorite fixer has a twisted sense of humor and has named this Project Snapped. If this situation wasn’t so dire, I’d find it more entertaining, but now I’m reconsidering keeping Christopher alive.