T mumbles something too low for me to understand.
Screw this.
Taking a big step back, I yank open the door. The two men stand inches apart, their hands curled into tight fists. Neither looks my way.
“Oh stop it, you two. Duke it out later, okay? Right now I need one of you to tell me why I can't check my phone and why T's here so early. What's. Going. On.”
T's the first one to break the stare-off, his dark brown eyes finding mine.
“It's out.”
“Not following. What's out, T?”
“Your mom. Your life. Plus some sources saying you’re cheating on Birmingham with one of your Secret Service agents. It's being covered on every network. Hell, they already have people on location in Boone and camped outside that rehab facility you put your mom in.”
I can't breathe. The room spins. All the blood drains from my face, and my hands tremble at my side. Eyes still locked with his, I shake my head, disbelieving his words.
“No, that's… no. It's impossible. Not now.”
I stagger back, the wall stopping me from tumbling down. Both men rush across the room, Trey's arms reaching me first. I'm numb, barely registering the tight grip around my waist that keeps me from falling to the floor.
“Easy, Randi,” Trey whispers into my hair.
My breaths come in short pants, desperate for small amounts of air.
“Randi, look at me.” T's thick fingers wrap around my chin, tipping my gaze up to meet his. “Calm down. You can't solve anything passed the fuck out. Do you hear me?” His voice is stern, commanding. “Get it together. Now.”
“Match my breaths, Mess. In.” Trey’s chest puffs out, pressing against my back. “And out.” Wisps of my air float forward on his deep exhale. Over and over he urges me to mirror his deep breaths. After several rounds, the room stills, my vision clearing.
“I'm, okay. I'm… oh fuck.” I gasp, clasping a hand around my neck. “This is bad. It's bad, isn't it?”
My eyes frantically search T's for answers.
“It's not good.”
“Tell me.” I ball my hands into small fists. “Give me my phone.”
“Let's get you to sit down first,” Trey says, already guiding me across the room. He sits me in the buttercream-colored chair but doesn't go far. Squatting between my legs, he gives a comforting squeeze above both knees.
“How bad is it?” I ask T again.
“The worst are calling you a fraud,” he states, zero emotion in his tone, the stone-faced protector mask back in place. I groan, dropping my face into my awaiting palms. “The best are focusing on the cheating angle.”
“This couldn't have come at a worse time. Now we have zero time to come up with a new strategy. Early voting starts today.”
“The timing is… questionable.” I drop my hands, blinking rapidly at T, his tone giving me pause. “I find it odd that right when you're making headway in the polls after that debate, this bomb drops. The timing of everything seems planned. Plotted.”
My mouth pops open, gaping wide.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper. “You think Shawn did this. You think Shawn's the one who leaked it all.” I whip around to face Trey. “Before the debate, he suspected something was going on between us.”
T huffs and crosses his trunk-like arms across his broad chest. “Anyone could tell there was something going on between you two if they saw you together.” I cringe. “You're an idiot, playboy. I had no idea it was this”—his mitt of a hand waves between us—“deep.”
“Whoa. Playboy?” I scoff.
“Can we focus on the issue at hand, please,” Trey grumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Why didn't you say anything?” He turns on the balls of his bare feet to face T.
“I thought it was innocent flirting. If I'd known this?” He looks to me and shakes his head. “You both know you're playing with fire, don't you?”