Page 66 of Power Twist

Sweat builds along my forehead and slicks my palms. Every scenario of how to get out of this whips through my mind, but nothing makes sense. Nothing would work. What I'd planned before—walking away after the four years, because then their influence in this town wouldn’t matter when I screwed them over—won't work now. It's like they knew I planned to back out only when it wouldn’t affect Randi’s term negatively. But the only person who knew that plan was….

I lock eyes with Jessica. “You sold me out. You told them my original plan.”

She nods, tears glistening along her lower lids. “Do you love her?”

“For how long?” I grit out. Sliding my clammy palms into the front pockets of my black jeans, I dig my stubby nails into my thighs. “How long will we have to play the engagement? What are the terms?”

“One year,” Mother says, inspecting her perfect nails. “This isn’t something you can just step away from like I know you were planning to do before. A deal is a deal, son. I get you the votes and you stick to the engagement and the marriage next year. After the wedding, you’ll leave the secret service for good.”

I shake my head. “Not going to happen. I'll play the charade, but I will not marry her,” I shout, jutting a finger in Jessica’s direction, “or leave before the end of the term.”

“Of course you will, sweetie. This is an alliance,” Mom says with a laugh. “Not marriage in the technical term. You need me, and you need this.”

Turning my gaze to the window, I stare out onto the lush estate, still budding with the last effects of spring. I could always get the votes needed and back out; it's not like they would send the bill back to vote. But what about the backlash I was worried about before? If I back out after the bill fails, my family will ensure Randi is ruined. So which would be worse, Randi’s political ruin or me marrying Jessica?

I could always go along with their plans—the engagement, the marriage—then end it after Randi’s term. But will I really leave the secret service? Leave Randi unprotected for the remaining two years of her term? Or I could agree to everything right now, then back out of the resignation piece once it comes time.

“Oh, and son.”

I slide my annoyed gaze to Mother, who's now lounging along her favorite chaise while Jessica silently sobs in the corner. Crying over hurting Randi or knowing I’ll never love her because my heart belongs to another?

She really didn’t know. A part of me feels bad for her. She made this new deal with Mother not knowing all the pieces, and she was played just like me. This will kill Randi. She thought she had a friend in Jessica. Maybe she does still. Jessica wouldn’t be this visibly upset if she knew she was screwing Randi over.

“Don’t even think about double-crossing me. I’ve done my research. You see, I've played this power game longer than you, honey, and I can spot loopholes in any deal. If you back out of any part of our new deal after you've gotten your end of the bargain, well then, I might be forced to release some less-than-positive information about you to the press.” Her lips dip in a fake frown.

“And what's that?” I ask. Tugging my hands from my pockets, I cross both arms over my chest and widen my stance, readying for a fight I’m not sure I’ll be able to win. How’s that for a slap to the balls.

“Oh, let me see here. How about assault with a deadly weapon? What is that nowadays? Ten, maybe fifteen years in federal prison? Maybe more since you’re an officer of the law.”

I feel every last ounce of blood drain from my face. “How…?”

“Come on now, dear, don't think so little of me. It was easy when you know where to look.”

Realization smacks me in the face like a sack of bricks. “Who told you?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she says while wiggling her finger back and forth. “I don't reveal my sources. So, son, what will it be? Jessica and your whore of a girlfriend, or no Jessica and no VP? Easy choice if you ask me.”

Right, like I have a choice at all. And knowing Mother, this is only the beginning. From here on out, new items will be added on, new expectations. This new deal is just a baseline for my future torment.

The real question is, can I live with myself with Randi gone or with her here and hating me for doing this behind her back? Sorrow wells in my chest, pushing a tightness in my throat.

Neither outcome ends with me with the woman I love.

Chapter Seventeen

Randi

June

My cheeks pulse with a low ache from holding my broad smile for so long. After a quick professional goodbye, I unseal the phone screen from my ear and rest it on the desk. I scribble the location and confirmed time into the planner, underlining it several times for emphasis. This is my fourth meeting to get on the books with an influential senator since the OPEC summit three weeks ago. Two of the senators I met with last week said they would consider my counterpoints to the bill while the one yesterday flat out said no, but hey, can't win them all. Hopefully the one I just scheduled for Thursday night swings my way.

With an excited groan, I pitch the pen onto the desk and lean back in the large leather-back chair. Closing my eyes, I relish the few seconds of peace this moment offers. Since the cold shower intervention, I've worked diligently to hand some responsibilities off to those who are capable. With the various committees and obligations taken care of by others, I've had time to focus on stopping the bill and delegating the other things as they've come through. I hate to admit it, but T was right. The suffocating pressure and stress I was carrying would've drowned me.

Thank goodness for friends who are willing to give the tough love needed to save you from yourself.

Pressing the tips of my heels to the rug, I swivel left and then right, smiling with my eyes still closed. T and Trey—all the guys, really—are amazing. Even though Trey's been acting funny the last couple of weeks. More closed off than usual, sad almost. We haven't had a chance to talk alone, but hopefully we can soon so I can stop the nagging feeling that something's wrong. Surely he would've told me if there was, right?

Shaking my head, I lean forward and reach for the pen to jot down a few more notes when the phone vibrates against the polished dark wood. My brows furrow as I read the bright screen: Unknown Caller. Swiping my thumb against the smooth glass, I press it against my ear.

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