Page 22 of The Senator

Getting involved in Spencer Brady’s clusterfuck wasn’t on my radar, so why was I putting myself out there to do something for him that I wouldn’t even do for myself?

What the hell was going on with me?

Spencer was pacing the room as he furiously pecked into his phone. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. When he didn’t move to answer it, I walked over and looked out of the peephole to see Vani standing at the door, fist cocked to knock again.

I unlocked and opened the door for her to come inside. I pulled on my shoes to give them privacy and took the elevator to the lobby to get fresh air. I walked out through the sliding doors, feeling the bite of cold on my cheeks. It was November in the mid-Atlantic, and as I was coming to learn, the weather could turn on a dime.

I saw a convenience store across the parking lot and decided beer sounded good, so I took the walk. I was still spinning as I considered the idea that I was not only attracted to Spencer Brady, but I genuinely cared about what happened to him and Vani.

Vanessa had explained to me earlier that they didn’t have a typical marriage. She said they’d never had sex, which I found hard to believe, initially.

They were both gorgeous, but when she explained her sexual identity to me, I understood. While it was clear they loved each other, and they’d been together for a long time, which created an intimacy between them I’d never had with another soul, they weren’t physically attracted to each other.

I couldn’t say I was jealous of their relationship, but I was a little green-eyed when it came to his former lover, the news guy. It seemed like the reporter cut and ran when things got tough.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts, finding a number I never thought I’d use. The offer—“If you ever need anything, make me your first call,”—would surely apply under the current situation.

“Hey, Nash. What’s up?”

“You told me if I needed anything, I should call you. That still stand?” There was silence over the line.

I heard a car horn in the distance before his throat was cleared. “Yep. Where are you?”

“I’m in Blacksburg, Virginia. I’m with Senator and Mrs. Spencer Brady. They’re my friends, and they’re in a bind.” I believed it only right to give him the option to say no.

“So, it’s not for you? What’s in it for me?”

Whatever it takes. “Whatever you want.” The words came out easily. I never knew I had the ability to be self-sacrificing. I’d just learned something new about myself.

Wednesday morning, I took Vani and Spencer to campus so they could check on Jay. I waited outside on a bench in front of the dorm to give the family their privacy. The deep rumbling sound caught my attention before I saw the bike.

A sleek Road King glided into the parking lot adjacent to the dorm. Denver Wilkes stood from the huge bike looking in my direction. He took off the helmet, stashing it into the saddlebag, before striding to where I was sitting. The grin on his handsome face made me happy to see him.

“How’d you get away by yourself?” As the Road Captain for The Devil’s Volunteers, a motorcycle club out of Sparta, Tennessee, he usually traveled with a large crew. It was a surprise to see him alone.

My time with the club was relatively short, but when I left for something else, I left a piece of my heart there with Clinton Barr—my best friend and mentor in the group home who had already phased out of the system.

Clint came back for me when I was fresh out of the system at eighteen, helping me survive the streets as we left Texas to start a new life anywhere but the Lone Star State.

We ended up doing some handyman work for the Volunteers that summer when we stopped in Sparta, and unlike me, Clint had taken to club life like a duck to water. Sadly, he was killed in an accident a few years earlier. Denver and Clint had been in a relationship at the time, and I knew Denver took it hard. I went back to Sparta for the funeral, and I’d hung with the guys for a few days to ensure Denver was okay. I rarely heard from him, but as he’d promised when I left after Clint’s funeral, he was there if I ever needed him. And he’d kept his word.

Denver brushed his hand over the black leather jacket he was wearing, which contained no club markings. “Incognito, man. Not my first time around the block. How’ve you been, little brother?”

I hugged him, clapping him on the back a few times in return, hoping he knew how grateful I was that he’d come. “I’ve been fine, really. I sort of stumbled into this problem…”

Denver laughed. “What’s her name? She the senator’s daughter?”

Oh, shit. “Uh, no. See…” I mumbled, not sure how to explain things to him when he was looking right at me.

“Nash, dear, is this man giving you trouble?” Vani asked as she sidled up next to me and gave Denver a withering stare.

“Vanessa Brady, this is Denver Wilkes, an old friend of mine. He’s, uh, passing through and stopped by to see me. Where’s Spence?” I heard the nerves in my voice.

“He’s talking to Jay. They had some air clearing to do. So, Mr. Wilkes, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Nash is a wonderful guy. He was kind enough to drive us down from Northern Virginia. Our son was in an accident yesterday, and we were too upset to drive, so Nash, here, agreed to bring us. Would you like to go over to the food court to get a cup of coffee?” Vani gave us the up and down. I wasn’t surprised she was suspicious. Denver was an intimidating guy at six seven. He was a bear of a man, who looked like he could snap me with two fingers.

Denver looked at me for guidance, so I nodded. “Yeah, let’s go. Vani, send Spence a text where he can find us.” Once she was finished, the three of us strolled across campus, Vani interrogating Denver like he was under a hot light in a police holding cell.

We went into a large building where, not surprisingly, tons of college kids were milling around a dozen food and drink options, finally taking a seat near a gourmet coffee cart. “I, uh, what can I get everyone?”

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