Page 74 of Power Term

But right now?

Right now it’s just him and me.

And that’s all that really matters in the end.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Randi

Out of all I’ve done in my life, this has to be the most nervous I’ve ever been. Of all the debates, challenging powerful men, and living through unnerving situations, why am I afraid now?

I hate this. The worry, anxiety, the voices in the back of my head telling me I can’t do it. Is that Shawn taunting me from the grave, still whispering in my ear about how I’m not good enough, nor will I ever be good enough, strong enough? I don’t know, maybe. Or has it always been there but my drive and self-built confidence have been enough to always drive it away?

The firm cushion of the buttercream sitting chair shifts as I lean forward. Elbows on my knees, I wring my fingers and attempt a deep breath to settle my nerves.

A twinge of discomfort causes a grimace, but it’s not as painful as it was. My body is healing quickly thanks to the days my doctors required me to rest. I hated every second.

I smile to myself despite the turmoil of thoughts running through my head.Well, I hated every second except that last hour with Trey in my bed before I was discharged.

I stare at my nude pumps. The shoes that cost more than three months’ mortgage on my trailer back in Boone. I don’t even want to think about the comparative cost to the tailor-fit pantsuit I’m wearing. Or the expensive toiletries and makeup stocked in my bathroom.

I shake my head, long silky dark locks slipping over my shoulder to frame my face.

“It’s just a press conference,” I mutter to myself. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Releasing my fingers, I shake them out, allowing the cool air to wick away the clamminess. A quick glance at my watch tells me I have thirty minutes before I’m expected.

Fuck, I hate the waiting. I could’ve scheduled it earlier—I am the president, after all, and it’s me they want to hear from—but under the guise of needing more time, I forced them to wait until today. Two days after my release. Four days from when Trey found me. Five days from when I was abducted and beaten.

I swallow hard. There’s a slight tremble in my hand as I raise a red-tipped finger to my teeth. Really I needed the past few days to get my shit together. Not that I have it all together now, but each day is better. Plus it gave me time to reconnect with Tae and that sweet little baby. We didn’t leave each other’s side for twenty-four hours after she nearly tackled me the moment I stepped foot into the resident side of the White House.

There was also something else I needed to do. Something personal I’ve been meaning to take care of for Trey. Between taking calls from the bed, the physical training exercises, and Tae popping in every hour to make sure I was still here, I was able to accomplish what I’d set my mind to. He doesn’t know yet. Well, at least I don’t think he does, unless his attorney called him the minute the funds were released.

Some might call it an abuse of power, but screw them. It wasn’t that at all. Yeah, it made reaching the attorney general way easier, since I have his number programed into my favorites list, but that’s not why he authorized the release of Trey’s trust fund.

No, that was all me and my Harvard education mixed with my debate experience. Once he saw the evidence and traced the funds back to the original source—Trey’s grandfather—the attorney general realized the oversight and corrected it.

Boom.

“That might be better than a boob punch to Celia,” I mutter.

“Who are you boob punching?”

I jump an inch from the seat, the hand at my lips coming to press against my racing heart. Breathing hard, I shoot Sam an accusing glare. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“I knocked.” Those dark brows furrow as concern flashes across his features. “Randi, no one expects you to be fine after what you went through.”

“I know,” I say on a sigh and lean back against the chair, angling my body to face where he stands by the door. “It’s just… I’m constantly on edge now, you know? Like every sound, every move might be the one that happens right before I’m taken again.”

“Are you seeing someone?” He steps deeper into the room and sits on the footboard of my bed.

“Yeah, and a friend.” Said friend, Sarah, has been a lifeline. Taking my calls at all times of the night, letting me ramble on and on. Helping me feel strong again by taking me through simple self-defense lessons until my body is fully healed and we can get back to our old workout routine—i.e. her kicking my ass. That first day back in the White House, she stopped by with T. I’ll never forget her look of absolute fury when she saw my bruised face. If Shawn wasn’t burned to a crisp and nothing more than ash and a bad memory, I think Sarah would’ve dug up his remains and killed him all over again.

I smile at the thought. I love my protective friend. Everyone needs a Sarah in their life. And a T. And a Trey.

“You’ll get through it. I have no doubt Benson will make sure of it.”

My smile widens. “Yeah.” Shaking my head, I disperse the memories that are trying to force their way forward. “What’s up? Why are you here?”

Sam’s bright green eyes burn through me. “We’re friends, Randi. I’m here to check on you.”

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