Page 70 of The Illusion of Power (Passion and Politics #1)

SELENE

I ’m tired of people looking at me and talking to me, or worse, talking around me.

Having whole conversations where I am the topic of discussion, while I sit there and say nothing.

Do nothing. Just breathe and think and try to feel anything other than the paralyzing fear that’s clawed its way into my chest and made itself at home.

Cal, Beck, and Charlie are doing it now, the whole talking around me thing.

Discussing all the things that could go wrong today as we drive to the polling center, where I’ll cast my ballot early because Jordan essentially forbade me from mailing it in the way Aubrey had.

She even resorted to reminding me of my lack of leverage and, thus, precarious standing in this arrangement to silence my protests.

When she floated the idea in our now-daily security briefings earlier in the week, it was met with a lot more resistance than I’d been able to muster, mainly from Cal and Beck.

Beck, specifically, had raised hell, asking Jordan if she’d lost her fucking mind while Cal followed up with a calmer, more strategic refute about needing to limit my exposure as we get closer to Election Day.

In the end, neither of their responses mattered.

I knew they wouldn’t. By the time the meeting started, I’d already accepted that danger was imminent, that Aubrey and Jordan would send me out like a lamb for slaughter just for the shot to burn the image of me walking into the polls to vote for my husband into the minds of every American.

Hell, they’re probably praying I’ll catch a bullet between the eyes on my way in, that way they can shift the last days of their messaging to talk about how I died carrying out my civic and marital duties.

“Jordan’s going to get her photo opp after all,” I murmur, looking out the window at the news vans lining the street in front of the polling center.

There are reporters and camera people everywhere.

Some of them are interviewing people wearing ‘I Voted’ stickers, but most of them have their eyes and lenses trained on the line of SUVs we just arrived in.

Cal puts the car in park, turning a fierce gaze on me in the back seat.

Beck does the same thing, and I return their stares, wishing we were alone so we could speak freely.

I want to say that I love them and that if the worst should happen, four days from now or today, then I’ll die the happiest I’ve been since losing AJ.

I want them to know how much I appreciate them and how much I value the way they’ve fought and advocated for me.

I want to tell Cal that he’s a gentle fire, silent and lethal, and laugh with Beck about how loud he always is in his outrage.

I want so much, and in this moment, I can’t have any of it because Charlie is sitting beside me, watching and listening, taking up space in the only moment of togetherness I’ve had with my men since sneaking out to Cal’s house the other night.

I’d visibly deflated when I heard she’d be riding with us today, so much so that I didn’t bother to respond after she explained her supervisor thought it’d be necessary to have her on site, even if she couldn’t get out of the car for fear of her cover being blown.

Not responding was rude, I recognize that, but I don’t care. And I still don’t care that we’re technically being rude now, forcing her to sit on the outside of our bubble while we exchange gazes filled with longing and love, and hope it’s enough.

“If you see anything that looks even remotely off,” Cal says, forcing a calmness into his voice that is betrayed by the wild look in his eyes. “You press the button on that bracelet and get yourself somewhere safe.”

“We’ll get to you in seconds,” Beck assures me, his jaw tight. “No matter where you are, we’ll find you.”

Charlie sits up, locking the screen of her phone. “Bracelet?”

I turn to look at her, registering the shock and dismay on her face, and my heart starts to beat wildly.

Fear that the moment and mention of the bracelet have given something away rips through me.

It grows stronger when her eyes travel down to my wrist, tracing over the line of gold and diamonds circling it, then dissipating swiftly when she nods her approval.

“Smart,” she says, glancing at Cal and Beck. “Why wasn’t it included in any of the reports of the precautions we’re taking to keep Selene safe?”

Cal is stone-faced, offering up a lie quickly. “It’s a new addition to her jewelry collection.”

“A gift from Aubrey,” I add, throwing in a tense smile.

Beck opens his door, ending the conversation before Charlie can see through our collective lie. “We should get her inside.”

I fidget with the bracelet nervously, cognizant of Charlie’s eyes on it. “It’s a beautiful piece,” she says as Cal pulls my door open. There’s a disconcerting juxtaposition between her compliment and the heavy curve of her downturned lips. I try to make sense of it, but there’s no time.

Beck holds the door handle, blocking the cameras and reporters with his body.

Cal offers me his hand, and I take it, squeezing his fingers lightly before letting go.

Suddenly, there’s a wall around me made up of bodies in black suits with faces I can’t see and names I don’t remember because most of them have only just become part of my detail.

Hicks, who has finally decided to take my safety seriously, thought it was necessary to increase security, even going so far as to have local police monitor my parents’ and siblings’ homes until the threat has passed.

Those numbers don’t do me any good as I pass through the doors leading to the main voting area, though.

I walk into that space alone, leaving Cal, Beck, and all of the other agents in the lobby because the woman at the door said their presence in the room could be considered voter interference.

The doors slam shut behind me, and I’m essentially alone.

I feel the vibration of it in my bones, and I am too aware of the vulnerability that comes with it, of being thrust into the world on your own after months of always having someone between you and it.

The line moves too slowly, and I can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me.

Well, I mean, of course, people are watching me.

I’m the wife of the man who cheated and is still going to be President.

I’m the woman whose son died in a school shooting.

I’m the future First Lady of the United States of America, and I’m standing here with them, voting in person like I’m a normal American.

It’s such a ridiculous notion that I almost burst into laughter as I finally make my way into the booth.

Standing in front of the ballot machine feels…

weird. I’ve spent so long thinking about this day, this ballot.

So much of my life has been determined by this election, and now it feels almost disappointing to be here, especially when the options on the ballot are what they are.

When the campaign started, I felt certain I would have no qualms about voting for Aubrey, but now my heart and my mind long for a better option. My muscles are tight with resentment and fury as I reach for the screen.

“Here goes nothing,” I whisper as my finger hovers over the box beside Aubrey’s name. Just before it connects with the screen to make my reluctant selection, a loud boom sounds out around me, and the building quakes, sending me flying into the machine.

I brace myself against the table, wincing as the blaring of car alarms outside causes my ears to ring.

“Was that a bomb?” the man in the booth next to me asks.

My already pounding heart starts to gallop, slapping against my ribs as I try to breathe, try to focus, try to make sense of the worried murmurs from the other voters and poll workers.

The word bomb is now rippling around the room, a fearful echo that sweeps through the crowd in a second.

“Everyone stay calm,” someone says, but their demand is drowned out by the second explosion that sounds like it’s on the other side of the doors I just walked through, in the exact spot I left Cal and Beck standing just a few minutes ago.

My hand goes to my mouth to stop the horrified groan crawling up my throat, but it’s no match for the melody of fear.

Fear for them. Fear for me because I might not know much right now—like how to put one foot in front of the other and get the fuck out of here—but I do know I’m the reason this is happening.

The awful truth of it resonates deep in my chest as a third bomb goes off.

This time, in the room with us. Everyone screams as the ceiling comes crashing down, glass and drywall and smoke blanket the room, adding a haze to the layer of darkness that descended on us when the power went out.

People are screaming, and they’re not all fearful screams. Some of them are loud, guttural expressions of pain their body can’t hold anymore, and my voice is among them.

I blink up at the broken beams and wiring hanging above me, wondering how I ended up on the floor, and when I hit my head hard enough for blood to be running into my eyes.

I’m coughing through my disembodied screams, lifting the arm that’s not pinned underneath several privacy screens and what looks like a ruined ballot machine to put pressure on the gash in my forehead.

Unfortunately, that free hand isn’t the one with the bracelet on it, and it wouldn’t matter if it were because Cal and Beck know exactly where I am, but they haven’t come for me yet, which means something is wrong.

Are they hurt? Are they dead?

The questions float around my head in a loop that never ends. Blood pools in the corner of my eye and rolls down, staining my skin with crimson tears as I lie waiting for whatever comes next. The screams have tapered off, and my body has gone numb with the acceptance that it won’t be anything good.

Because I’m trapped, and I’m hurt, and I’m scared that whoever did this did it to get to me.

It feels like the only logical explanation, even though Charlie’s intel all but guaranteed that Jacob won’t make his play for another four days.

The FBI and the Department of Homeland Security opted to leave him free for a bit longer, wanting to catch him in the act like they did with his father in order to make sure the charges stick.

They’re supposed to have eyes on him right now, but I have first-hand knowledge of how easy it is to slip a tail when you’re determined, and Jacob is determined…to kill me.

“ Selene. ”

My eyes flutter open at the feel of firm hands on my shoulders. I don’t know when I closed them, don’t know when the weight of all the things pinning me down was moved, don’t know anything except that the person in front of me isn’t one of the people I was hoping to see.

“Charlie?” I blink rapidly as she hoists me up and off the floor. My vision swims with red and blurs of the room around me.

“We have to get you out of here. Can you walk?”

I nod even though my neck aches with the effort, and she grabs me by my hurt wrist, yanking me away from the people clamoring to get out of the front door.

Her hold is less than gentle, and she’s moving far too fast for my staggering steps, but there’s no time to complain about that. All I want to know is one thing.

“Are Cal and Beck okay?” I ask, not caring if my asking about them first makes me seem too attached, if my calling them anything other than Agent Drake and Agent Beckham lets on to the fact that I belong to them and they belong to me.

Charlie doesn’t react to my use of the personal monikers. In fact, she doesn’t react to any of my questions, continuing to drag me through a maze of hallways that takes us deeper into the building and further away from the last place I saw the loves of my life.

“ Are they okay ?!” I scream, snatching away from her to bring our march to a halt, realizing too late that she has her index finger looped through my bracelet. It snaps from the force of my pull and clatters to the floor.

“There’s no time,” she growls impatiently when I try to bend down to pick it up.

I’m still reaching for it when she grabs my elbow and yanks me down the last stretch of hallway that leads to a door that’s already propped open.

I can only assume it’s the entrance she used to breach the building, but I can’t understand why no one else came with her, why the black SUV idling by the door doesn’t have an agent waiting outside of it but there is a familiar face in the driver’s seat, why as soon as we pass through the threshold the entire world goes black.