Page 15 of Power Switch

“I'm sorry, but I can't help you,” I whisper, not daring to look him in the eyes. Walking to the bookshelf, I pretended to scan the spines. “I have another meeting I need to prepare for. I think it's time for you to leave.”

The soft click of his dress shoes echoes around the library. Out of my periphery, I see him pause at the door.

“I know I didn't know you back then, but I sure as fuck expected more out of you than this. You're no better than the rest of them.”

With that, he throws open the door and storms out.

I slump forward, pressing my forehead against the hard spine of a massive book. My stomach cramps at the frustration and disappointment in his voice. The sexy gravelly tone he has going on didn't do anything to soften the blow of his words.

Movement by the door snags my attention. The soft leather rolls along my forehead as I shift to see who's entered the library.

T and Trey stand at attention, hands lightly clasped. Blowing out a heavy breath, I stare at the book spines.

“That seemed to go well,” Trey says, zero humor in his voice.

I huff. The skin of my forehead peels from the spine as I stand straight. “I need a drink.”

“No,” T says.

“Fine, a cigarette.”

“Negative.”

“Killjoy,” I retort.

“Been called worse.” T shoots a mock salute my way.

A corner of my lips turns upward. “Same.” Hanging my head back, I let out a loud unladylike groan. “Fuck,” I say, drawing it out into multiple syllables.

“Tell us,” Trey demands. “We can help.”

I shake my head and turn to my two best friends. “I wish I could. You have no idea. But what he told me is real shit. Beyond Kyle creating that stupid bill to take away voting rights. If I disclose what Sam and I discussed, I could be prosecuted, and I won’t do that to you or to me.”

A ball of nausea rolls in my gut. Sweat dots along my forehead and dampens beneath my arms. I make quick work of shoving my sleeves up to my elbows before toeing off one shoe, then the other. The cold hardwood quickly soaks into the bottoms of my bare feet, instantly cooling the sudden hot flash.

I swallow and glance around the library, hoping the answer lies somewhere in this room.

“But I want to tell you,” I admit.

T and Trey share a quick look, an unspoken conversation happening in that split second.

“I think you need to get out of this house,” T says.

“Okay,” I agree, uncertain of his change in topics but whatever. “But remember, the president wants me dead, which is why I’ve been held captive in this house.” They’ve kept me locked in the house since that night we were ambushed. Going out for the party last night was a rare taste of freedom. No matter how many times I told them, “All work and no play make Randi a dull girl,” they were relentless about keeping me safe in this house.

Both men nod.

“My apartment is secure.” My mouth gapes at Trey. “We can keep her away from the windows.”

“We'll sweep it for bugs—”

“The hell?” Trey groans. “You're an overprotective busy bee.”

“Busy bee?” I say on a giggle, rewarding me with an almost smirk from Trey.

“This is national security we're talking about. Mix that with the two fucktwats, Birmingham and Whit, I'm not taking any chances. We go to your place, scan it for bugs, then… eat lunch.” The exaggerated wink T shoots my way causes a snort to escape. I slap a palm across my nose just as another slips out. “Have Jessica order the food. That way no one knows it's for Randi.”

My gaze snaps to Trey's. “I'm sorry, what? Is she fucking living with you now?” I take a deadly step toward the two men, my eyes no doubt blazing with jealousy and giving them a peek into the violent side of my crazy.

---