Page 5 of Power Surge

Finally he breaks eye contact to lean close to his wife, pressing his lips near her ear. The wife’s head bobs, agreeing to whatever he whispered. Moving like two stone statues, they start around the open grave toward where Taeler, the swarm of Secret Service men, and I stand. When they near, an agent steps into the couple’s path, cutting off their access to me. Outrage bubbles in my chest as I clench both fists at my sides at the audacity of the fool.

The agent supporting the umbrella over my head steps with me as I stride through the multiple puddles. After maneuvering around the idiot standing between me and the parents of the man in the grave, I pause, waiting for whatever they need to say.

“We don't blame you or your daughter,” Chad's father shouts over the hammering rain. “Our son—” His voice catches. “Our son knew what could happen in the line of work he chose.”

Taeler doesn't reply, just simply presses her forehead against my shoulder, the rattling sobs starting once again. I gaze at the crown of her blonde head. If I’m honest with myself, I envy her ability to show emotion. Standing here, stone faced without a single tear shed, I must look like a fucking bitch. Inside I'm suffocating on guilt and grief. A young, vibrant kid is no longer here because of me. I take full responsibility for Grem's death, even if his parents don't place the blame on my head.

Grem's mother directs her attention to us, her gaze flicking from me and my entourage before settling on Taeler. A sad, watery smile ticks up the corners of her smeared red lips.

“He talked about you to us, often. Did you know that?” Taeler stifles a cry beside me at the mother’s confession. I rub a hand up and down Taeler’s bare bicep, offering what little comfort I can out in public. “I know he did what he had to do to protect the woman he loved.”

The crack in my already wounded heart deepens at her words.

Tense silence passes between us as we wait for Taeler’s response. The rainfall continues to pound against the umbrella as the wind whips through the graveyard, dusting my face with a fine mist.

A low mumble comes from my side, the words lost due to the loud background noise surrounding us. The three of us lean closer together, our attention on Taeler as we strain to hear whatever she’s trying to say.

With her beautiful face directed toward the soggy ground, she whispers once again.

“Taeler, we can't hear you over this rain.” The urge to shake her permeates every cell in an effort to pull her out of the zombie-like daze she's been in since this morning.

“I'm pregnant,” Taeler says loud enough for us to hear.

My eyes widen to the size of saucers. Those two words out of her mouth are like a punch to the face.

“Come again?” My voice is tense as I hold on to a sliver of my composure.

“I'm pregnant,” she says again, this time looking up from the mud. Her blue eyes, her father's blue eyes, lift to meet Grem’s mother’s searching ones. “I loved him. I still love him, and he’ll never—” Her words are cut off by a gulping breath as a renewed set of sobs commences.

Breath stagnant in my chest, I glance between Grem's parents, who seem as shocked as I am based on their wide eyes and slack jaws. Hand to my stomach, I fist the pristine shirt beneath my jacket, right above my belly button. Shutting my eyes, I inhale deep, forcing control over my storming emotions.

Not here. Not in public.

No, I have to get somewhere private. The desperate need for Trey’s arms around me nearly breaks what’s left of my composure.

I blink, hating what I have to do next, only to find Grem’s parents now smiling with happy tears glistening in their eyes.

Well, fuck. I'm an evil witch for what has to happen now.

“You can’t mention a word of this to anyone,” I state, my voice cold and emotionless, a complete contradiction to what’s eating at my insides. “You’ll both need to sign a nondisclosure agreement regarding this news to protect Taeler, the baby—” I swallow hard at that word passing my lips. “—and me. This cannot get out to the media.”

Horror-stricken faces turn to me. Yep, I sound like a bitch. No, actually I sound like the fucking president of the United States who just found out her daughter is pregnant with zero warning. I have to contain this for her safety, both from my enemies and the harassing media storm that will commence if this gets out before we’re ready.

Tugging on Taeler's arm, I angle us toward the waiting motorcade.

“Someone will be in touch with developments,” I say over my shoulder.

Not waiting for a response, I hurry us across the graveyard.

“Mom, stop. I—”

“Not here.” I offer a stiff nod to the unfamiliar agents as we pass. My heart pounds against my ribs, threatening to crack them wide open. Stars dance in my vision as we march through the grass with the implications those two words have on her, on me.

My feet slow as a familiar woman waiting beside a town car comes into view.

Celia Benson smiles when our gazes meet. Without an indication from me, she starts toward us. Standing beside the limo, I forget any sense of decorum and shove Taeler into the dry passenger compartment, then slam the door shut, sealing her away from the approaching evil.

Dread sinks into my gut at even the sight of her. I’d hoped that day in their sunroom when I punched her husband and effectively ruined their lives was the last time I’d ever see her. Guess I’m not that lucky.

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