Page 23

CHAPTER 23

Kayley

I didn’t sleep well Friday night. I made the mistake of looking up Stella’s video, the one exposing her husband and his asshole buddies as the masterminds behind the attacks, and I knew I’d have to banish that from my brain if I wanted to be supportive for Elliot and his parents.

What I really wanted to do was scream that the bitch got what she had coming for aligning herself with the fuckers in the first place and causing so much death and destruction.

No, that wasn’t charitable.

And also no, it wasn’t a mindset I wanted while dealing with my in-laws. Norah and Oliver Woodley were nice people and didn’t deserve the international grief porn that people wanted to create from their pain.

I finally spoke to Leo briefly late Saturday night, and when I heard his voice, I shelved my plans to ask him to use his pull to get Vic out of working. He obviously had more than enough on his plate already.

“Jordan and I flew down to Florida today,” he said. “George Forrester went with us.” He was a miraculous shipwreck survivor who was the former governor of Tennessee and the husband of Elliot’s deputy chief of staff, Declan. He was also an attorney.

“To Stella’s house?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“Not really, no. It was… awful.”

I knew I could say anything to my brother because he despised Stella, too, but I still picked my words carefully. “How do you want me to approach this? When I’m in DC?”

“Oliver and Norah love you, Kay. Let them cry on your shoulder. They love you like a daughter—they need that more than they need a counselor. But I know you can help be a buffer for them from the public and the press if I’m not right there with them.”

“How’s Elliot doing?”

Leo’s ragged sigh still sounded weighty by the time it reached me all the way from DC. “Jordan and I are keeping him vertical and moving. It’s… complicated.”

“I’m sure it is. Do you want me to talk to Elliot when I get there? With my Dr. Cruz hat on?”

He considered it. “Maybe,” he finally said. “There might be things better coming from you than me. Things that he might discount because he thinks I’m saying them only because I’m his husband.”

“Okay. What about Jordan? I heard he saw the video. Is he all right?”

“Yeah, he was there when it went down. I think he’s dealing with this better than any of us, quite honestly.”

Sweet, innocent Jordan? “That would not have been on my bingo card, bro.”

He snorted. “He’s tougher than you think. Listen, I need to go. See you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Love you.”

He paused. “Kayley, maybe I don’t say this enough in meaningful ways, but I need you to understand I love you and I will do anything to keep you safe. You know that, right?”

I hated the way my nose prickled, tears struggling to break through. “I love you, too, you stalky weirdo.”

That usually earned me a laugh, but not this time.

“I mean it, Kay. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Leo. You already scared the crap out of me one time—you aren’t allowed to do that again, you know. You scared a good five years off my fucking life falling out of the goddamned sky.”

Finally, a soft laugh. “How about I buy you a drink in the White House when you get here to make up for it?”

“That’s a start, dude.”

I wanted to sleep but now my bed felt achingly empty without Vic in it. We’d texted a few times, but apparently PPD had put him on the team making the arrangements for the funeral transportation, meaning he was busy.

When I boarded the small charter plane with my parents and our security teams on Sunday morning, I felt like crap after another nearly sleepless night.

Mom warily eyed me. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine. As fine as I can be.”

“Did you have a nice birthday?”

“I did,” I said.

She pointed to my colorful bracelet. “That’s… new.”

I looked at it, at the multi-colored glitter pony beads, and fingered the tracker fob. “It is. Friends made it for me.”

“Um, oh.”

Obviously I wasn’t going to tell them I’d been to a kinky dude ranch. “Long story,” I added.

“Is Vic joining us?”

I didn’t want to talk about this, but if I didn’t, Mom wouldn’t let up.

Meaning best to get it over with sooner rather than later. “They recalled him to DC. I’ll meet up with him there. He’s busy.” Actually, he hadn’t yet replied to the good-morning text I’d sent him.

Fortunately, Mom took the hint when I pulled my sleep mask over my face and turned away from her.

Because the last thing I wanted to do right then was talk.

Especially not about Vic.

I managed to nap on the plane, but my dreams were filled with nightmares of being snatched from Vic’s arms and spirited away to some dark, shadowy chasm while the rest of the world exploded.

No, that’s not subtle at allllll .

We landed at Andrews and were driven to the White House. I texted Vic when we landed, but he still hadn’t replied by the time we arrived, which…

Concerned me.

Jordan met us downstairs, engulfing me in a huge hug after he hugged my parents.

“You okay?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks for coming.”

When he started to step back, I didn’t release him, staring into his eyes. “Are you really okay?”

He looked haggard, dark lines limning his cheekbones beneath his hazel-green eyes. “I’m not worried about me. Leo and I are focused on Elliot and his folks right now.”

“Yeah, but someone needs to worry about you,” I said.

“I promise I’ll be okay,” he said. “Leo and I will work on that after we get Elliot and them through this.”

That had to be good enough, for now.

We headed upstairs and yes, I kept an eye out for Vic the whole way but didn’t spot him.

Leo, Elliott, and the Woodleys were gathered in the family living room when we arrived. We all hugged but I saved Leo for last. I had to lean over because he was using a wheelchair due to recent knee surgery.

“We should talk,” I softly said. “Alone.”

“Yeah.” When I started to stand, he caught my wrist and smiled as he ran his fingers over my colorful bracelet. “He told me about that. Love it.”

“Kind of weird to have a day collar from my brother,” I whispered, and that made him snort and struggle to hold back a laugh.

“Where is Vic, anyway?” I asked.

“Sorry, I don’t know. I think he’s here today. I haven’t seen him.”

I’d already sworn I wouldn’t ask him to find out but then he crooked two fingers at one of his detail, whispered to him, and sent him off, presumably in search of Vic.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

I really didn’t want to make this about myself when Elliot and his parents were so obviously hurting.

But this was one time I wouldn’t fight my brother.

Ten minutes later, I sensed something and turned to see Vic emerge from the elevator.

I stood and walked over to Jordan as Vic approached the living room doorway.

“Is there anywhere we can talk?” I asked Jordan, indicating me and Vic. “Alone?”

“Sure. Upstairs in my office. The one that used to be Leo’s, and you’ll see my nameplate on the door. Door’s unlocked. Take as long as you need.” He looked at Vic and I sensed from Jordan’s furrowed brow that he currently felt a protective kind of way about me.

Ironic. Considering he was younger and I’d been worried about his well-being ever since I’d learned he’d departed DC for Florida because my stupid brother was a stupid man. Before Elliot brought Jordan back, that was.

“Thanks.” I led the way, Vic following.

He caught up to me. “I’m sorry I missed your texts, baby. It’s been insane around here. I was going to call you later tonight.”

“It’s okay.”

It wasn’t, but I refused to be a petty bitch.

Not about this, anyway.

Besides, he was literally at work, on the clock, and no way in hell would I pitch a tantrum about this. He wasn’t a cashier at a convenience store—he literally protected POTUS. He had enough stress to deal with right now.

Once we were alone with a closed door between us and the rest of the world, I didn’t waste any time.

“I take it you’re staying in DC?” Although I felt reasonably confident I already knew that answer. “Not coming back to LA with me for the rest of your leave?”

“I’m sorry. All hands on deck, given the circumstances. All leaves cancelled. I’m sorry about our vacation.” He sighed. “Again.”

“Yeah, so am I. But it’s not anyone’s fault. At least we had a week together.”

Well, it absolutely was the fault of Stella Woodley’s husband’s grandiosely narcissistic, psychopathic bullshit, and his psychopathic buddies, but since Ellis and Stella were both dead now I felt that could safely remain unsaid.

“We didn’t get to finish our talk,” he noted.

“No, we didn’t.” Yes, I should be plowing into this but I dreaded it. The air in the office felt thick and heavy and horribly stifling, and it had nothing to do with the literal atmosphere.

He glanced at his watch. “Baby, I need to be downstairs in the supervisor’s office in five. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing.” In fact, every apology felt like needles raking across my soul. “You’ve got a job to do. I get it.”

He studied me for a long moment and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. I wanted him, wanted to be with him, wanted him to actively choose me over his career—yet I felt guilty as hell for wanting to put myself above the obvious needs of the literal fucking country.

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Table it again? For now, until all this blows over?”

I made myself nod. “Yeah. Sure.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I love you.”

I blinked back the sting of tears threatening to burst free. I refused to do that to him, to make him feel guilty for a situation that wasn’t in any way his fault.

“I love you, too,” I said. “Please stay safe.”

He pulled me into his arms and slanted a long, gentle kiss across my lips. “You, too, baby,” he said before releasing me and opening the door. “I’ll text you later.” With that, he headed out.

I leaned back against the desk and the space was so small I could reach out with my foot and gently nudge the door to shut it.

Only then did I close my eyes and cry, because… I knew .

I knew .

I couldn’t make myself demand he choose me over the Secret Service any more than he’d demand I choose him over my career.

And, until one of us could do that, I would always come second to The Shift.

Because Vic was just like Leo and Chris Bruunt in many ways, and that’s exactly how they’d choose. The greater good over themselves. Service before self.

Goddammit.