Page 3 of Chief

I am not a good man, and have never claimed to be one.

I am a bastard.

In this case, it works in my favor.

Not only do Inotdiscourage Susa’s affection, I nurture and groom it. Shamelessly.

Also in secret, because—ironically—I don’t want to hurt Owen. It’s easy to convince Susa to keep things quiet, too, and why. Because she cares about Owen. Is attracted to him, even.

But it’smeshe lusts after. Once I realize who she is, who her father is, then yes, Iabsolutelyhave to have her.

Weneedher if I’m ever going to get Owen elected governor. More accurately, we need her father and his pull over movers and shakers in the GOP if we’re ever going to gain traction to make a successful third-party run.

While I did my time in the Army and not the Marines, the mottoImprovise, Adapt, Overcomeapplied there, too. Especially in-country.

I apply it to this situation.

Hooah.

Thus a heavenly third-party union is forged in the tropical fires of Hell that are Florida politics. I wouldn’t subject Owen to allegiance to one party or the other. Fuck both of them. Both have strengths, and both have even more weaknesses.

Fatal flaws. Flaws I refuse to inflict upon Owen’s political career. I’d rather lose honestly as a third-party candidate than bend over and whore him out to the elephants or the jackasses.

Neither of them are good enough for him. We’d build something from the ground up, something better.

Something we could look back on and be proud of.

Something that wasours.

And we have, even if Benchley Evans publicly “jokes” that our status as Independents somehow contributed to his heart attack.

No, asshole, that would be too much booze, a shitty diet, and smoking cigars for over forty years that did it to you.

Your daughter achieving what she has in her career should be considered the crown jewel in your life’s accomplishments, not something to fucking joke about with a wink and a nod to your buddies that indicates you all think she did thisbecauseof you, not inspiteof you.

More accurately,tospite you.

I think all these things, but I hide them behind smiles and well-placedyes, sirsandno, sirswhen talking to the man.

I’m a bastard, but I’m not stupid.

If I piss him off too much, he’ll do anything he can to hurt Owen, even if it means Susa’s political career becomes collateral damage in the process.

I know this, because Benchley is as much of a bastard as I am.

Fortunately, I have more than a little leverage against the man to keep him in line.

Leverage Susa and Owen know nothing about.

And, hopefully, never will.

* * * *

This has been a long and interesting journey, these past twenty years. Tonight, as I stand here in this hotel suite and watch Susa and Owen at the window, where they’re staring down at the downtown Tampa skyline following our public victory celebration downstairs, I can’t help but smile.

My pets say I have different smiles, and this one is probably the one they’ve labeled “thatsmirk.”

I watch Owen hold his arm out and Susa tucks herself against his side, his other hand coming to rest on her tummy as he drops a tender kiss to the top of her head.