Page 112 of Incisive

I refuse to let hope re-enter my soul.

“I love you, too, El. I just…I have responsibilities.”

“Do you even believe most of what you’re selling?”

“Stella laughs. “Do Ibelievewhat I’m selling? Bro, how long have you been in this town? No one believesanyof the bullshit they’re selling. Not even the libs. Well, maybe some of the hayseed Congressional reps, the newbies, but they’re the only ones. And after a few terms in Congress, and sticking them on the lobbyists’ teats, it usually cures them of that. The only thing anyone believes in ismoney. That’s thetruereligion, and anyone who says it’s not has their head crammed too far up their own ass and believes their own bullshit.”

She actually laughs but it doesn’t sound forced or practiced. “I believe in the money I deposit into my bank accounts.In God We Trust, am I right?”

This might be the most honest conversation we’ve ever had. “I would be willing to include you in more public events if you weren’t repping people who want to strip rights from others and want to impose their religion on everyone. Or who want to restrict voting rights for people.”

She goes silent for a moment. When she next speaks the sharp edge returns to her tone. “Yeah, well, unfortunately they pay alotbetter than anyone in the BLM movement, or other lefty and progressive groups. Can my staff arrange the rest of this? Or do I have to come grovel more in person wearing a horsehair shirt and a crown of thorns?”

Aaannnd the moment’s gone.“Have your staff get with mine. Talk to you later—I have to go.” I hang up, shaking from the sudden rage that slams into me.

I fought and nearly died in service to my country, to protect free speech and voting rights and everything else that stems from those things.

For my own sister to gravitate toward greed instead of what’s right just…

Pisses me off. I feel sick and angry.

Mostly angry. Because I sense what little hope I apparently did still hold for our relationship slip through my fingers and that pisses me off, too.

Jordan’s smile fades as he steps forward. “What’s wrong? What’d she say?”

I stare at the phone. “Nothing.” I tamp down on my anger so he doesn’t see it. “Just Stella being Stella.” And that’s not a lie. “Make sure she’s on the list, please. No suite access, though. She can stay downstairs and backstage. And no plus-one, either. Just her.”

“Yeah, sure.” Still, he watches me.

“What?” I eventually snap.

His hands slide into his pockets. “Talk to me, El.”

That he’s not automatically dropping into Sir mode to rein me in means he’s trying to feel me out. Part of me resents that he doesn’t immediately step in and take charge of all of this for me.

Guilt flows in on the heels of that.

It’s not Jordan’s job to deal with my family issues, even though I know he’d happily do that. Just like I can’t waltz in and tell his family to go fuck themselves, even though I’d really like to do exactly that for how they treated him.

I think about how to phrase it. “Don’t pass this around but maybe she’s finally seen the light about Ellis. I won’t get my hopes up. Anything she does is for herself, not for anyone else. If she thinks she can make out better staying married to him I’m sure that’s exactly what she’ll do.”

“I won’t be setting any extra places at the holiday table, is what you’re saying?” There’s a lighter edge to his tone, the hint of a smirk trying to break through and my rage washes out once more as quickly as it arrived.

“Not anytime soon, no.”

He leans in for a quick kiss before leaving to go do whatever magic it is Jordan engages in while I return to studying my briefing materials.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t dispel the dark seed of worry now planted deep inside me.

My mind flashes to a hot desert day as this same feeling threaded through me. A tingling at the base of my spine.

Before the familiar daymare can take over I shove it away and bury myself in my work. I have enough stress right now.

I don’t need to invent or invite any from Stella and her greedy life.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

Stella and her personal issues—andpretty much everything else about her—drop from my mind as my re-election campaign rolls into the final turn. The polls might be running strongly in my favor but there’s no way in hell I’ll coast across the line.