Page 17 of Escape into the Night

Aaron sneered. “You know which rumor I’m most keen to hear.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Caleb crooned, pressing his free hand to his stomach with a smirk of the highest order. “It's true. I'm twenty weeks along. We’re keeping the news hush-hush until we have the anatomy scan. Hoping for a little sister for Parker!”

Disgust played over Aaron’s regrettably good looking face. Why was it that the ugliest souls had the prettiest faces? “Don’t fuck with me, Cohen.”

“Cohen-Williams.” Caleb patted Aaron’s forearm and reveled in the way the man pulled back as if the touch would taint his well-bred, all-American genes. “If not that rumor, which? Oh! Did you want to hear about the cabaret? I never took you for a fan of drag shows, but don't worry. I can get you tickets, buddy. Maybe even a private showing at the White House.”

“You make it very easy to despise you.” He made a show of scanning Caleb top to bottom before his sneer grew in intensity. “If you think the American people would vote for an abomination like you and Williams, I regret to inform you that your aspirations are dead in the water.”

“Mm. It’s Cohen-Williams. As much as you wish to ignore the fact that we’re married, it's still true, doll.” Caleb mirrored Aaron’s position with an equally casual air. “And I won't presume to know what the American people want, nor am I able to confirm anything you are assuming about our intentions.”

“Cut the shit, Caleb.” Aaron leaned closer, his invasive cologne mixing with the scent of wine to become a potent cocktail of overwhelming aromas. “Tread carefully. You might think you're all invincible, but I can promise you, you aren't.”

“Ooo. Threats during cocktail hour—what a faux pas. Were you actually raised in a barn, or more of a boat shed?”

“Trust me, you’ll know when I'm threatening—”

“Yes, now I remember! Boat shed. Definitely a boat shed.” Caleb tapped his chin with a squint to his eyes. “2006, Princeton versus University of Washington. Martin Moxley. He was a freshman, if I remember the story correctly.”

Aaron was good, Caleb had to give him that much credit. The only evidence he’d hit his mark was the briefest, nearly imperceptible flare of Aaron’s nostrils. He continued with an airy tone.

“Bludgeoned to death with an oar blade. The only suspects had airtight alibis.” Caleb slowly cocked his head. “I wonder how much those alibis cost daddy dearest.”

“You think you're cute, Cohen? You think this little show has me quaking in my Chelsea boots?” He huffed a breath through his nose like a big angry bull. Caleb simply smiled. “Make your next moves carefully. Neither you nor Williams have nearly as many friends as you might think.”

“I'd rather have fewer real friends than a mob of strangers pretending to be friendly faces.” Caleb jerked his chin toward the crowd of people mingling, circling like sharks in open water. “Trust that I know my place.”

“You really don't.” Aaron shook his head with a tut of his tongue. “And don't think we haven't done just as much research as you think you’ve done. It's a real shame your former husband didn't knock some sense into you when he had the chance.”

Caleb recoiled as Aaron lifted a hand to trace a single fingertip over the curve of Cay’s cheek. The permanent nerve damage that caused his crooked smile made the sensation even more stomach-churning than the toxic touch alone.

“Yes. A real shame.” Aaron’s hand dropped to pat the center of Caleb’s chest as his smirk grew lethal. It was that precise moment that Caleb could see, clear as a sunny day, that he wasn't dealing with a man. Aaron Evans had the cold, calculating look of a psychotic monster in his eyes. “Consider this a friendly reminder from the administration—stay in your lane. Both of you.”

Caleb tracked Aaron’s gaze and released a quiet breath with a subtle waver as his stomach dropped three floors to slam into the ground below. Elias must have sensed the scrutiny, his eyes darting toward them as a wrinkle formed between his brows. Aiming for reassurance and likely falling far short of the mark, Caleb smiled in response. The crooked curve never felt so hollow.

“Good chat.” Aaron straightened from the wall and winked. The action was a vile, evil thing. “Send our warmest to the family. Especially little Parker. He's got a good head for a future in DC. That mock government project was a real hoot.”

Outwardly, Caleb played the part. Inside, his gut turned to acid. If they weren't in the midst of a social event full of necessary contacts and key players, he'd have slapped Aaronin the mouth for daring to even speak Parker’s name. The innuendo in the words made his instincts turn even more homicidal. Without waiting for the social niceties of well-wishes and fake smiles, Aaron returned to the room, his perfectly plastic expression fooling all the people he crossed paths with, sharing hand shakes and atta boys. Caleb stood rooted to the spot as he tried to wrangle his lungs into working order.

“Babe?” Elias shifted into Cay’s space, his voice a mere whisper as he assumed a casual stance not unlike Aaron had been in. “What was that?”

“That, boss man, was DC politics in action.” Tearing his eyes from the boy-next-door grin plastered on Aaron’s face, Caleb lifted his gaze to Elias. “We’ve been warned to stay in our lane.”

“Hmn. Not surprising.” The distance between them gradually evaporated as Elias rested his shoulder against Cay’s. “You okay?”

“I'm nauseated, but alive. I do think we need to consider security measures. Especially for Parker.”

“He said something?”

Caleb rested his wine glass against his lower lip to obscure detection by any lip readers in the group. “They have eyes in the Day School.”

“Noted. We won't get Secret Service until I'm officially on the ballot—”

“Like hell,” Caleb quipped, turning narrowed eyes on his lover's face. “I wouldn't trust Addy’s SS goons as far as I could throw them, and you don't need me to remind you how small and delicate and not sports-ballsy I am.”

Despite the tension riding thick in the air, Elias chuckled under his breath. “Fair point well made, my love. Connor and the Gendry crew?”

“Precisely my thoughts.” Caleb exhaled to alleviate some of the pressure in his chest. “You get a gold star, baby doll.”

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