Page 72 of Enemy of My Enemy

He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “I don’t like this,” he breathed. “I don’t like this at all.”

“Do you trust me?”

Ethan’s head snapped up. Scott was more than just his best friend. He was his brother, someone he had become a man beside. Scott knew everything there was to know about him, had even known about Jack and him from almost the first moment it began. He’d carried his broken body to safety, had helped him retake the White House and save Jack, save the world, and for God’s sake, he ran lube for him and Jack. Trust wasn’t a big enough word for how deeply he believed in Scott.

“You know I do. With everything.”

“Even with him? With J-Jack?” Scott stuttered over Jack’s name.

Ethan hesitated. He frowned. Took a deep breath as he searched his soul. “Yes, I do.”

“Thentrust meon this. Trust me to do my job and to protect the president. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Slowly, Ethan nodded. “I’ll let him know.”

* * *

Jack tookthe news better than Ethan had.

“If our friends are asking for this, then we should give it to them. They need our help.” Jack crossed his arms with a heavy sigh. “Is there something else we can do to help? Somehow relieve the burden?”

“Never leave the White House, ever? Not host any outside personnel? No more state dinners?”

“I’ll be crawling the walls if we can’t ever leave.”

“When the president travels is always the worst.” Ethan sank into one of the chairs in the Residence’s kitchen. He and Jack were cooking, a dinner of rice and pan-seared strips of steak. A spinach salad, tossed in vinaigrette, and a bottle of red wine waited on the table. “In order to really secure this funeral trip, the advance team should have been on the ground a week before Evgeni Konnikov died.”

“Is the security that you guys strive for really possible?”

“It has to be.” Ethan’s hand came down on the table, a heavy slap. “It has to be, always. It’s your life.”

Jack looked down. He’d shucked his suit and his shoes after leaving the West Wing, and he wore jeans and Ethan’s sweatshirt and walked around barefoot. “It’s not just my life. It’s your life too, now. And if keeping you safe means you stay here, then that’s what we do.”

Ethan still wanted to puke at the thought of Jack going without him. Of not being at his side. “Will you be all right?”

“Will you?”

He shook his head. “No. To be honest, no. I’ll be out of my mind until you’re back.” His foot jiggled, an endless bounce against the table leg. One hand dragged over his face. “I’ve been thinking about Ethiopia all day,” he groaned. “How we planned for that.”

“This is different.”

“Flying into a foreign nation with limited prep time in an area where known terrorist attacks occur? Yeah, totally. Completely unique.” Ethan watched Jack’s eyes slide closed. “The only difference is, this time, there’s been an actual threat against your life. Madigan is still out there.”

“He won’t ever get near me.”

Ethan scrubbed his hands over his face again, trying to block out the memories of Ethiopia, of their careful and meticulous security plan falling apart in tatters around them. Him, Scott, and Daniels all just struggling to survive and get Jack to safety as bullets flew.

Where was Madigan? How could he insert himself so easily back into the world? How far had he spread? How deep did he go? He was an ever-present nightmare, a golem hiding in the shadows of the world.

“Hey,” Jack whispered softly, much closer than he’d been before. Ethan opened his eyes. Jack was right in front of him, looking down with a soft smile. He stroked his fingers through Ethan’s hair. “Scott’s great at his job. I trust him. He was trained by you, and he’s almost as good an agent as you.” Jack winked.

Ethan snorted. “I’m really not the poster boy for a perfect Secret Service agent.”

“You’re my poster boy for a hero, and you’re the man I love.” Jack dropped a kiss to the top of Ethan’s head. “And everything will be fine. I’ll be back before you know it.” He stepped back as the timer went off for the rice. “I’ll get the steak. Can you pour the wine?”

He filled their glasses as Jack warmed up the pan. He stood behind him, wrapping one arm around Jack’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder as Jack started searing the steak. “Still going to miss you.”

Jack kissed his cheek. “I’d miss me, too.” He grinned when Ethan snorted, and then he sobered. “You really are my hero. And you always will be.”