Page 162 of Enemy Within
“No, I want to hear what he says.” He was exhausted, run through from everything. From having to defend himself until his throat bled from speaking. For once, he wanted to hear another person speak, say something, anything that wasn’t an accusation against him. He could hope, at least.
Ethan looked less than convinced. But he followed Jack down the hall, and when Jack kept hold of his hand, he followed Jack into the private meeting room.
Senator Allen was already waiting inside. His eyes widened when he saw Ethan at Jack’s side, and then dropped to their joined hands.
Jack braced himself, but Allen said nothing.
“Well?” Jack was done being polite. He wasn’t the president any longer. And he wasn’t in the chamber either. “You wanted to talk?”
Senator Allen licked his lips. Looked down. Ran his tongue over his teeth as he stared at the carpet and pursed his lips. His mouth moved slowly, as if he was trying out his words before he spoke. “I… wanted to thank you for your testimony,” he finally grunted. “You spoke well, Mr. President.”
“Hopefully it keeps me out of prison.” Ethan’s hand squeezed down on his, so hard it almost hurt.
Allen’s chin lifted. “I don’t know what will happen. The committee is divided. Bitterly so. We’re going to deliberate through the weekend. I, uh—” He swallowed. “I’ll give the White House a call. Let President Wall know the decision before it hits the media.”
Jack’s jaw dropped. What world was he in? What alternate reality had he stepped into? “Senator… you have never liked me.”
“No.” Senator Allen shook his head. “I never have. You were too young. Too inexperienced. You’re a Millennial, and my generation has never liked yours. I was against your nomination from the moment it was suggested.”
The senator’s words hit him like bullets, echoes of Madigan’s words all over again. He was suddenly back in the Arctic, standing in front of Madigan’s sneering face. Then, staring down at his dead eyes, his broken, empty expression, after he’d killed—
Jack clamped down on Ethan’s hand and stepped closer to him, seeking his strength.
“But,” Senator Allen continued. “I respect you. Especially now. I was there. I saw the stakes at the White House and in the Situation Room.”
“What Jennifer did wasn’t in the hearings.”
“No. Her actions will remain locked behind closed doors. Hers and President Wall’s, when she left the country and brokered a treaty between China and Moroshkin.” Allen shook his head, suddenly seeming twice as old as his seventy years. But, he strode across the room and offered a handshake. “Thank you, President Spiers-Reichenbach, for your actions.”
Stunned, Jack took his hand. They shook, and Senator Allen smiled at him. “I’ll do what I can,” he said softly. “There’s a lot of anger in the committee. But I’ll do what I can.” He dropped Jack’s hand, nodded once, and headed for the door.
When it clicked shut, Jack turned to Ethan and collapsed into him, burying his face in Ethan’s neck again before the storm broke in his soul. Sobs tore through him, wracked his body. Ragged wails muffled in Ethan’s suit jacket. Everything he’d done had left him empty, a shell of a man, but Ethan’s arms and Ethan’s soft voice whispering in his ear brought him back, each and every time.
“It’s going to be all right, Jack,” Ethan whispered, stroking up and down his back. “You’re going to be all right. You did the right thing. You made the right choices.” He kissed Jack’s hair, his temples. Wiped his tears away with his thumb. “I’m here. I’m with you all the way.”
“That’s the only thing that matters,” Jack breathed, his voice shuddering. He squeezed Ethan’s hips, breathed out against his neck. “You and me. Together.” He wanted to say it, wanted to promise Ethan he’d be with him all the way, too, forever and ever. Raw terror held him back, a visceral fear that ate away at the bottom of his heart. “What if—”
“Then I’ll buy a house right next to the prison and visit you every day.” Ethan kissed his hair again. “I’ll never stop loving you, Jack. I’ll never stop being here. I am with you all the way.”
He curled into Ethan again, both fists grasping his suit jacket. “I’m scared.”
Ethan kissed him again and held him close, but said nothing. What could Ethan say? There was nothing they could do. Their lives were, again, held at the mercy of others. Their lives, and his freedom.You are being held accountable.
Some nights he wished he’d died in the Arctic. Wished the torpedoes that had slammed into theVeduschiyhad destroyed the ship and them too. He would have died holding onto Ethan, and that, at the end of the day, was all he wanted. A life, however long it was, beside Ethan for each and every day. Not this nightmare that loomed before him, the specter of prison and a life apart from Ethan. Would he even be able to take it? How long could he last? When would the agony, the loneliness, the aching heartbreak eat through his soul?
Madigan’s face flashed in the darkness behind his eyelids.You’ll never be free of me.
His stomach lurched, and if he had eaten anything that day, he’d have vomited, thrown it all up in a moment.
Even from beyond the grave, Madigan was still haunting him, still controlling his life. Still turning it to wreckage and ruins, rubble that he had to live with.
THEY SLIPPED OUT OF the Capitol and into waiting SUVs, dodging the press and a mob of people. Some shouted encouragements. Others jeered, promised to see him locked up for the rest of his life. Jack, his eyes red, kept his face down as he climbed into the SUV with Ethan, Scott, and Levi.
Ethan held his hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing kisses to his knuckles, his wedding ring. His thumb stroked over Jack’s palm. Scott and Levi stared out the windows, frowns fixed firmly to their faces.
They wound through DC, stopping at the InterContinental Hotel. The press hounded them again as they exited and headed for the entrance. Scott nodded from the backseat.
Some intrepid members of the press managed to slip into the InterContinental’s lobby. They chased Jack and Ethan to the elevators, where burly security guards held them back.
