Page 9

Chapter Nine

Caleb

Wolves. Caleb was a little lamb surrounded by wolves. Mercifully, the event was nowhere near the scale of the ball he and Elias had attended, but the crowd felt three times more cutthroat. His eyes darted around the room and settled on Elias’ form across the distance. His smile was believable enough, but he knew exactly how fake it was. Everything about these events was superficial. That was the game—DC elites were insufferable but an unfortunately necessary evil. Showtime, Cay.

Squaring his shoulders, Caleb edged his way into another conversational group under the pretense of getting a refill. He needed lots of liquid courage to keep up the facade, after all. At least he could count on this crowd fully endorsing the fine art of day drinking. He was already halfway to tipsy and it wasn't even noon. Rosy cheeks and canned laughter from the other partygoers assured him he wasn't the only one who would be nursing a wine-fueled evening hangover.

Small talk and politics were the major talking points of the day, and he deftly navigated the land mines with his practiced mask of confidence and charm. What a lovely blouse. I adore your shoes. Who's your stylist? Your clutch is delicious. He could schmooze with the best of them, even if it left him feeling hollow and purely decorative. Such was the life of a political spouse, unfortunately. Mingling had never felt so exhausting.

He was balls deep in a riveting conversation about the perils of ‘woke’ agendas when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to squeal in alarm when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. The over-application of cologne penetrated his sinuses as an all too familiar voice broke through the hush of quiet chatter.

“Cay! I've been trying to pin you down all morning.” Aaron freaking Evans. Cay smothered a shudder of disgust and turned his grin toward the man.

“Senator, what a pleasure.” He lifted his wine glass in greeting before taking a gulp. Frat boys had nothing on him as he tilted the glass higher and downed the entire thing to refuel his reserve tank. Don't fail me now, Malbec.

“Walk with me,” Aaron quipped in all ice, his smile turning sinister. Perhaps that observation was simply Caleb’s imagination, to be fair.

“Ooo, clandestine luncheon chat. Lead the way, pretty boy.” Caleb swapped his empty glass for another on the bar, nodding to the hapless boy in an ill-fitting penguin ensemble of slacks and waistcoat typical of catering crews the world over. He smirked and winked before topping off the red wine.

“Nothing clandestine, Mr. Cohen.” Aaron’s hand shifted from shoulder to elbow, steering him away from the group he’d been talking with.

“That’s Cohen-Williams. I know hyphens are scary and confusing. You’ll get the hang of it, though!” Caleb kept himself easygoing and affable despite how twisted his gut was. “Montgomery-Evans has a nice ring to it. Or will you do Evans- Montgomery? Hrm… I prefer the former, if you're looking for opinions on the matter.”

“I'm not, nor would I ever.” Aaron stole a glance and the smirk on his face was not even close to kind or open. They slowed and eventually stopped in a corner far removed from the happy little clusters of conversation and brown-nosing. Elias’ concerned gaze from afar was met with a reassuring wink. Caleb could handle himself, as much as Elias’ need to intervene played across his features.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Senator?” Caleb lifted his eyes with an easy smile.

“We’ve heard some rumors, and I’m ever so curious to hear the news.” Feigning a casual air, Aaron let his shoulder rest against the dark wood paneling of the wall.

“Rumors? You'll have to be more specific. This is DC—rumors spread like STIs in a college dorm.”

Aaron sneered. “You know which rumor I’m most keen to hear.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Caleb crooned, pressing his free hand to his stomach with a smirk of the highest order. “It's true. I'm twenty weeks along. We’re keeping the news hush-hush until we have the anatomy scan. Hoping for a little sister for Parker!”

Disgust played over Aaron’s regrettably good looking face. Why was it that the ugliest souls had the prettiest faces? “Don’t fuck with me, Cohen.”

“Cohen-Williams.” Caleb patted Aaron’s forearm and reveled in the way the man pulled back as if the touch would taint his well-bred, all-American genes. “If not that rumor, which? Oh! Did you want to hear about the cabaret? I never took you for a fan of drag shows, but don't worry. I can get you tickets, buddy. Maybe even a private showing at the White House.”

“You make it very easy to despise you.” He made a show of scanning Caleb top to bottom before his sneer grew in intensity. “If you think the American people would vote for an abomination like you and Williams, I regret to inform you that your aspirations are dead in the water.”

“Mm. It’s Cohen-Williams. As much as you wish to ignore the fact that we’re married, it's still true, doll.” Caleb mirrored Aaron’s position with an equally casual air. “And I won't presume to know what the American people want, nor am I able to confirm anything you are assuming about our intentions.”

“Cut the shit, Caleb.” Aaron leaned closer, his invasive cologne mixing with the scent of wine to become a potent cocktail of overwhelming aromas. “Tread carefully. You might think you're all invincible, but I can promise you, you aren't.”

“Ooo. Threats during cocktail hour—what a faux pas. Were you actually raised in a barn, or more of a boat shed?”

“Trust me, you’ll know when I'm threatening—”

“Yes, now I remember! Boat shed. Definitely a boat shed.” Caleb tapped his chin with a squint to his eyes. “2006, Princeton versus University of Washington. Martin Moxley. He was a freshman, if I remember the story correctly.”

Aaron was good, Caleb had to give him that much credit. The only evidence he’d hit his mark was the briefest, nearly imperceptible flare of Aaron’s nostrils. He continued with an airy tone.

“Bludgeoned to death with an oar blade. The only suspects had airtight alibis.” Caleb slowly cocked his head. “I wonder how much those alibis cost daddy dearest.”

“You think you're cute, Cohen? You think this little show has me quaking in my Chelsea boots?” He huffed a breath through his nose like a big angry bull. Caleb simply smiled. “Make your next moves carefully. Neither you nor Williams have nearly as many friends as you might think.”

“I'd rather have fewer real friends than a mob of strangers pretending to be friendly faces.” Caleb jerked his chin toward the crowd of people mingling, circling like sharks in open water. “Trust that I know my place.”

“You really don't.” Aaron shook his head with a tut of his tongue. “And don't think we haven't done just as much research as you think you’ve done. It's a real shame your former husband didn't knock some sense into you when he had the chance.”

Caleb recoiled as Aaron lifted a hand to trace a single fingertip over the curve of Cay’s cheek. The permanent nerve damage that caused his crooked smile made the sensation even more stomach-churning than the toxic touch alone.

“Yes. A real shame.” Aaron’s hand dropped to pat the center of Caleb’s chest as his smirk grew lethal. It was that precise moment that Caleb could see, clear as a sunny day, that he wasn't dealing with a man. Aaron Evans had the cold, calculating look of a psychotic monster in his eyes. “Consider this a friendly reminder from the administration—stay in your lane. Both of you.”

Caleb tracked Aaron’s gaze and released a quiet breath with a subtle waver as his stomach dropped three floors to slam into the ground below. Elias must have sensed the scrutiny, his eyes darting toward them as a wrinkle formed between his brows. Aiming for reassurance and likely falling far short of the mark, Caleb smiled in response. The crooked curve never felt so hollow.

“Good chat.” Aaron straightened from the wall and winked. The action was a vile, evil thing. “Send our warmest to the family. Especially little Parker. He's got a good head for a future in DC. That mock government project was a real hoot.”

Outwardly, Caleb played the part. Inside, his gut turned to acid. If they weren't in the midst of a social event full of necessary contacts and key players, he'd have slapped Aaron in the mouth for daring to even speak Parker’s name. The innuendo in the words made his instincts turn even more homicidal. Without waiting for the social niceties of well-wishes and fake smiles, Aaron returned to the room, his perfectly plastic expression fooling all the people he crossed paths with, sharing hand shakes and atta boys. Caleb stood rooted to the spot as he tried to wrangle his lungs into working order.

“Babe?” Elias shifted into Cay’s space, his voice a mere whisper as he assumed a casual stance not unlike Aaron had been in. “What was that?”

“That, boss man, was DC politics in action.” Tearing his eyes from the boy-next-door grin plastered on Aaron’s face, Caleb lifted his gaze to Elias. “We’ve been warned to stay in our lane.”

“Hmn. Not surprising.” The distance between them gradually evaporated as Elias rested his shoulder against Cay’s. “You okay?”

“I'm nauseated, but alive. I do think we need to consider security measures. Especially for Parker.”

“He said something?”

Caleb rested his wine glass against his lower lip to obscure detection by any lip readers in the group. “They have eyes in the Day School.”

“Noted. We won't get Secret Service until I'm officially on the ballot—”

“Like hell,” Caleb quipped, turning narrowed eyes on his lover's face. “I wouldn't trust Addy’s SS goons as far as I could throw them, and you don't need me to remind you how small and delicate and not sports-ballsy I am.”

Despite the tension riding thick in the air, Elias chuckled under his breath. “Fair point well made, my love. Connor and the Gendry crew?”

“Precisely my thoughts.” Caleb exhaled to alleviate some of the pressure in his chest. “You get a gold star, baby doll.”

“Remind me to cash that in for a reward later.” Elias dipped forward to press his lips to Caleb’s temple. “Want to get out of here? I've choked on enough hairspray and ambition for one day.”

“God, please. I think I need oxygen and a detox.”

“We’ll stop at the vegan place. Best I can do.” Elias lifted his hand, palm up, and smiled as Caleb laced their fingers together with a squeeze.

“Yes. We need milkshakes before I share the details of my lovely conversation with dear ole Evans.”

“Milkshakes and a Valium or two.”

“Fuck it—hard liquor.”

The laughter they shared was thin, but genuine enough to make their smiles believable as they made their slow departure from the scene. Everything about DC was like walking a tightrope in a stiff breeze while three sheets to the wind. Thank God for the high school drama club and a lifetime of impossibly high expectations. His acting chops were most definitely going to be put to the test. At least the hand in his remained a steadfast tether to reality. Small mercies were sometimes all he needed to make it through days like this. If only he could rid himself of the residual taint of Aaron’s ominous words. As if conjured by mere thought alone, the aforementioned Senator called across the room, just as they were about to make a break for it.

“Cohen! Williams!” His hand caught their gazes as they turned toward the voice, waving jovially overhead as if they were old college buddies who recently reconnected. “Great to see you both. Get home safe.”

Elias returned the gesture with a flash of his palm. Caleb marveled at how genuine the smile on his face looked. The crush of his grip around Cay’s hand betrayed how much it took for him to play the role.

“God bless, Evans. Send our love.”

Only once they were safely secured in the BMW did Caleb finally speak. “God bless? Really?”

“Four of the attendees today were from the FRC.”

Caleb balked and shuddered. The Family Research Council was an evangelical organization hellbent on lobbying against same-sex marriage, among other things. “Oh, ew. Thank goodness I missed those introductions.”

“Intentionally, on their part.” Elias stole a glance with a sad smile. “I won't pretend to like it, not even a little bit. But I can toss them a scrap and pretend I have a holy-roller streak. Besides, it was a little fun to throw Aaron for a loop.”

Caleb snickered under his breath and shook his head. “I love you.”

“Love you too, babe.” Elias linked their hands together, lifting Caleb's to his lips to dust a kiss over his knuckles. “More than I could ever put into words.”

“Gosh, stop. I'll cry and my eyes will be all puffy. I'm wearing contacts. Behave!” Despite his playful words, Caleb clung tighter and shifted closer to rest his head on Elias’ shoulder. These were the moments that would get them through any potential storm. These moments, paired with their love, would always be more than enough.