Page 70 of Power Switch

“Know your place, Secretary.” Shawn's title comes out as more of a hiss than a word.

I take several more steps backward until my back hits a wall.

“For now. What’s fucking funny,” he says with a chuckle, looking as relaxed as a tiger after a full meal, “is you truly believed I'd stop with her.”

My mouth pops open. A quick look to Kyle shows his mouth gaping as well.

“And with all that I know,” he continues with a confident, sinister smirk, “it’s too much to risk getting out for you to do anything about it. So no, Mr. President, I won't back off, and as soon as I have her out of the way, you're fucking next.”

At that moment, the door I entered the room through sails open, banging against the wall as four agents pour in. The three I don't know scan the room and march to Kyle's side, putting themselves within arm’s reach.

Trey's narrowed honey brown eyes soften a fraction after I'm looked over head to toe and found whole. He takes in the pool cue and my back at the wall and immediately goes back on guard. Three steps and he's beside me, arm wrapped around my waist, tugging me closer.

“You okay?” he asks, not looking down but keeping his focus on Kyle and Shawn.

Physically, sure, besides my heart pounding out of my chest and zero oxygen getting to my brain. But mentally? Hell no.

What the hell just happened? I search the billiards room in a daze, hoping something will help piece together the last half hour.

“Yeah, um, I’m good,” I stammer. “Just get me out of here, okay?”

With a crisp nod, we're on the move. Out in the hall, another five agents stand ready for anything. Champ stares me down like I've done something wrong while T looks ready to blow a gasket. I swear steam is coming right off his shiny bald head.

Trey starts to lead me toward the room I stayed in last night, but I balk at the doorway.

“No.” I swallow, trying to get my thoughts and emotions in control. “I want to go home.”

T nods and mutters orders into the cuff of his sleeve.

We pass Sam in the living room, his face scrunched with concern. “You're with us,” I say, pausing even though Trey attempts to tug me past. “I need to talk to you three. Alone.”

No one seems happy about the request, but I don't care.

I put up no resistance as I’m ushered into the dark SUV. My feet bounce against the floorboard as I wait for the rest of the team and Sam to load.

Now the hard part. I have an hour and a half to convince Sam to drop the case, figure out what the hell Shawn’s up to, and make a plan to get Taeler somewhere safe.

Because one thing is for certain: I might have sworn I'd make Sam drop the investigation, but I didn't sayIwould.

18

Trey

Fuck protocol.

Instead of directing Sam to the back seat with Randi, I shove him up front, mumbling something about safety and any other bullshit I can think of as an excuse for me to be in the back with her instead of him. “He got her on the way here” wasn't an excuse Tank was willing to hear when I first called dibs. But, me being me, I went rogue and now here I am, happy as a fucking clam in the back seat with Randi while Tank glares at me through the rearview mirror.

I raise my chin and smile when our eyes connect again. I don't stop my soft chuckle when he grumbles a few curses and tightens his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. He loves me. I just push the envelope sometimes. But let's be honest, Sam sitting up front isn't putting her or us in danger. Now if I would've been forced to sit up front while he sat inches from the one woman I want the most but can't have… well, thenhislife would've been in danger.

Adjusting in the seat, I shrug out of my jacket and toss it into the back. Randi's gaze stays out the window, seemingly deep in concentration as I attempt to get comfortable. Whatever happened in that room shook her. When I burst in with the other agents, she looked downright terrified. But of what? I'm guessing that's what she wants to discuss now.

“First of all, I feel like we need to get everything out in the open.” Randi doesn't turn from the window. Her hot breath fogs the thick glass where she's leaning so close her forehead is nearly touching it. “Kyle knows the front that Sam and I are a couple is fake. He didn’t say how, but hell, even my daughter knew we weren’t really a couple, so it wasn’t a shock that he didn’t believe it either. I never admitted to helping you, Sam, but I did confirm the DOJ is looking into some aspects of his decisions.” She sighs and presses her forehead against the glass.

Desperate to take a bit of the stress weighing on her shoulders, I slide my hand across the center seat and lace my fingers around her own. At my gentle squeeze of encouragement, her forehead rolls along the window until her hazel eyes meet mine.

“Earlier this year, Kyle put a bill in front of the house that would've stripped many Americans’ right to vote. It was worded in a way that no one noticed. Hell, I might not have even put it all together until it was too late if Kyle hadn’t brought it to my attention that first day in office.” Her attention focuses on our connected hands. “Trey here knew we wouldn't be able to stop it in the House or Senate without help. Which is why he's now in a forced relationship with Jessica Hawthorne.” A rustle in the front seat draws my attention to where Sam has now turned around, leaning against the center console staring at Randi. “I lied to you before, and for that I'm sorry, Sam. Trey and I aren't done, and honestly?” She clears her throat. “I don't think we ever will be.”

“Why keep up pretenses, then?” Sam asks, glancing between us.

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