Page 62 of The Illusion of Power (Passion and Politics #1)

Understanding dawns on his features. “And now he’s threatening two federal agents and the future First Lady for him, which you think he would only do if they’ve managed to somehow rekindle their relationship without anyone knowing.”

“Exactly. Maybe Jacob is doing all of this in some misguided attempt to gain his daddy’s love.”

We pull our doors open at the same time, dropping into the car. Cal starts the engine and cranks up the AC. “So we know the why, now we just have to figure out… everything else.”

“That would be so much easier if Charlie’s ass would call us back.”

I’ve never liked Charlie Monroe. She always had an unhealthy attachment to Cal, feeling entitled to his time and attention, growing resentful when he gave it to someone else.

When we left the Bureau, I was glad to be done with her.

I put her out of my mind, stuffed her entire existence into a box next to all the other things I can go months, if not my entire lifetime, without ever thinking about again.

Lately, though, all I do is think about her.

Hope Cal will mention her. Pray to hear her voice or, sometimes, when I’m really desperate, to see her face.

I’ll endure just about any interaction if it means getting answers that’ll help us protect Selene. And yet, there have been none.

It’s been over two weeks since Cal placed that first call, and while I respect the fact that she has a job to do and its not investigating Jacob Marsh, I am tired of fucking waiting.

“Call Charlie again.”

“Beck,” he groans in exasperation. “I call or text her every day, and she doesn’t pick up. She’s probably still on assignment.”

“Have you called her today?”

“We’ve been in that prison all day,” he points out.

Reaching over, I slide my hands into his jacket, fingers traversing hard lines of muscle to find the interior pocket where he keeps his phone. He shakes his head as I pull it out and slap it into his palm.

“Sounds like it’s time to do that. Make it quick, we have a flight to catch.”

Instead of making a comment about how impatient I am, he connects his phone to the car’s Bluetooth and pulls out of the lot after selecting Charlie’s contact. The line rings several times before going straight to voicemail, and he hangs up.

“I told you she?—”

The rest of his sentence is cut in half by the sound of an incoming call, and both of us wear stunned expressions when we see the name on the screen. Cal clicks the accept button with a quickness.

“Monroe?”

“Drake, I’m sorry I missed you.”

I open my mouth to point out that she’s been missing his calls for days now, but he holds a hand up to silence me. Since I’ve pushed enough boundaries for the day, I sit back in my seat and keep my mouth closed, listening as she spouts off some excuse about going dark for so long.

“You’re good. I’m glad you’re back safe,” Cal says. His tight grip on the steering wheel the only indication of his impatience. “Do you have anything for us?”

“Jumping right in, huh, Drake?”

Charlie’s voice is light and teasing, which only serves to further annoy me. Thankfully, that same feeling is growing in Cal. I watch as it writes itself into his features, hardening his jawline.

“I’ve been waiting to hear from you for weeks.”

She lets the statement hang in the air for a second before addressing it with a sigh. “I know. I’m sorry about that, and I’m sorry that I don’t have more for you right now.”

My heart drops into my stomach. All this fucking time wasted on waiting for her just for her to come back with nothing?

“What do you have?”

“Beckkk,” she drawls, her voice all sarcasm and loathing I’m not always sure is an act. “I was wondering where you were.”

“What the fuck do you have, Monroe?”

I don’t know if it’s the repeated question or the venom in my tone, but suddenly she starts talking.

For the duration of the drive to the airport, we listen to her drone on and on about Jacob’s shitty childhood and his strained relationship with his dad.

She tells us about him losing his job and room in her basement when his mom died.

This resulted in him crashing on the couches of a few of his father’s friends who managed to beat the charges from the Warner assassination attempt.

“So the Brothers are back?” Cal asks, merging into the car rental return lane.

“There has been an apparent revival, yes, and unfortunately, in today’s political climate, there’s no shortage of people looking for a reason to hurt or harm someone who is different from them.”

Feeling the onset of a stress-induced headache, I massage my temple. “Do we know how extensive their network is?”

“Unfortunately, no. Jacob is nothing like his father, which means the organization looks much different under his rule. There are no meetings in the back of bars or abandoned warehouses. Everything is online. Everyone is hiding behind VPNs and bouncing their IPs. Jacob is very clever. He’s brought a level of sophistication to the Brothers that was missing during his father’s reign. ”

My eyes narrow at the wistful quality her tone takes on at the end. “You sound like you admire him.”

“ What?”

She heard me the first time, but I have no problem repeating myself, projecting my voice a bit to make sure she really absorbs my words. “You sound like you admire him.”

“I have a healthy respect for his skills, and you should too,” Charlie throws back, leaving it at that.

“That was a lot of information, Charlie,” Cal says, ending the awkward silence. “Why did you make it seem like you didn’t have anything?”

“I never said I didn’t have anything, just that I was sorry I didn’t have more.

So far, no one can confirm Jacob has any plans to harm the Taylors.

As you are aware, any credible threats identified by the Bureau are reported to the Service immediately.

From what we can tell, his focus seems to be more on rebuilding the drug and sex-trafficking side of things. ”

Cal is parking now, his face grim. “You just said he’s clever. Isn’t it possible he’s hiding those intentions behind a VPN or bouncing IP?”

“Or bot accounts and troll farms?” I add, thinking of the connection Selene helped us make. We still haven’t been able to identify the woman, which means we don’t have anything definitive linking her or Jacob to the online harassment.

“That’s always a possibility,” Charlie agrees, sounding distracted suddenly. “At this point, though, it is unconfirmed. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

The call ends abruptly, and we don’t have time to dwell on it or discuss anything until we’re on our flight to Detroit.

Even then, we don’t say much, both of us caught up in our own thoughts and the bone-deep exhaustion that haunts our steps to the hotel room we have to share, as our late arrival has ensured that all the single rooms are taken.

I used to be so concerned about the optics of sharing a room with Cal, but tonight I’m past the point of caring. I’m tired and stressed, and I just want the comfort of sharing space with one of the people I love.

“You can shower first,” I tell Cal, dropping my bag on the bed closest to the door.

He grunts his acknowledgment, slinging his things down and rummaging through his suitcase to dig out his toiletries bag while leaving everything else in disarray.

Once he’s disappeared behind the closed door, I set to work unpacking.

Hanging our suits in the closet, sorting our workout gear into the drawers of the dresser.

I’m putting my phone on the charger when I hear a timid knock at the door.

I cross the room and open it, surprised and delighted when I find the only other person I want to see right now on the other side of it.