Page 163 of Hate Mates

“I don’t want to hear it,” I say, making my way out of my office. “We need to get to the rally.”

She raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

As we walk out of the campaign headquarters, I’m clutching the evidence that could destroy Weston. I’m not sure if I’ll use it, and I’m finding it hard to concentrate with the throbbing that’s still pulsating between my thighs.

My thoughts are crowded by what, or who, I’ve just unleashed.

SIX

7:00 PM

THE RALLY

The community center is packed full of people from both sides of the campaign—the current mayor’s office and mine. Everyone’s wearing badges showing their respective allegiances.

This is it. The moment I’ve been working toward since I was a little girl. I’ve always wanted to make a difference. If I win tonight, I can. The long hours, the constant effort, and the sacrifices I’ve made will all be worth something.

Beth intercepts me as I walk toward the stage to deliver my final speech. She looks me up and down, making sure my suit isn’t wrinkled, my hair is neat, and I’m not visibly shaking.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

I nod, even though my stomach’s doing somersaults as a result of all the stresses of the day. There’s a constant chatter in my head about what is the right thing to do.

“I’m fine,” I reassure her.

If I say it enough times, I will be.

My mantra, and all that shit.

Beth’s gaze lingers on me for a moment longer.

“Do you want to talk about what happened with Lincoln Caldwell in your office?” she asks, an eyebrow raised. “You two seemed to have been…” she coughs, “conversing. Intensely.”

“He brought me the evidence we need,” I respond. I know that’s not what she’s asking about. There could have been no doubting what happened between Lincoln and me in my office. Even I was aware that the scent of passion filled the air. “He handed it to me on a silver platter.”

“I think you know that isn’t what I was talking about. Be careful, Sophia. Trust your instincts. Don’t waste all your hard work.” Beth folds her arms across her chest. “Are you going to use the information?”

I hesitate, my eyes flicking to the stage. “I think I’m going to have to. It’s the only way to win.”

“Sophia, remember why you started this campaign in the first place. It wasn’t just to take down Weston. You’ve always said you wanted to rebuild this city and make real, tangible changes—better schools, better infrastructure, and accountable leadership.” Her voice gentles, and her eyes become softer as she delivers the encouragement I need. “That’s what people believe in when they look at you.”

She’s right. I want to talk about what I’m going to do for this city.

But I can only achieve it if I win.

There is so much doubt within me at the moment. It’s been a long day, and I need to figure out what’s right and wrong. I know I need to be me, but I’m not sure who that is anymore. Lincoln Caldwell has clouded my judgment.

Or has he?

Maybe he’s helped me find the real Sophia Tucker and made me a worthy adversary.

Beth squeezes my arm. “Go out there and tell them the truth about what you stand for.”

I draw in a deep breath, nodding. “Thank you,” I whisper, and I mean it with all my heart.

As I step onto the stage, the spotlights are blinding, but I can feel the energy in the room. It’s all focused on me and what I’m about to say. People want to believe in me. They want me to give them an honest alternative.

I grip the microphone.

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