Page 13 of Since Always

I nod. “A long time ago. And, yeah…he's always been a jackass." I glance down at the empty glass in my hand. "I'm going to get a refill. Anyone need anything?" The smoke in the room is suddenly making me feel claustrophobic.

I stand at the bar a few moments later, ordering a drink and chatting with a woman who is trying to pretend that she doesn't know who I am. I know she is lying. You learn to pick up on these things.

"So, what do you do...Owen, you said?"

I nod, grabbing my drink and laying down a tip for the bartender before turning back to her. She very clearly wanted me to buy her one as well, but I don't want any reason to prolong this conversation.

"I..."

"Don't you recognize him?" an unwelcome voice behind me says, as a hand lands on my shoulder. "He was voted the Sexiest Politician in America last year."

"Were you jealous? I can ask them to send you a participation badge, if you want," I say, and Mark laughs.

"It's good to see you up here enjoying yourself, Owen. You know what they say. All work and no play..."

"Makes someone who actually does their job?"

He smirks and the girl slinks away, aware that her presence here is no longer wanted. Not that it ever was.

"Did you see the news this morning?" Mark says, glancing around to make sure no one is listening. "Looks like we might get a Supreme Court Nominee soon. The President must be thrilled."

"I think the President has known Justice Brooks for a long time. I'm not sure he's thrilled to find out the man has stage four cancer."

"You know your problem, Owen? You overestimate people."

"Is this you disparaging the President, Mark? I didn't think you were allowed to do such things when you're that far up someone's ass."

"The President's priority is his party. Our party. You can't pretend you won't be happy to get the seat."

"Well, first of all, the President's priority is his country, not his party."

"And just think of what us having another seat will do for our country."

"You know, the thing about it is, I don't even get why you would care. You've planted yourself so firmly in the middle I'm not sure another Democratic justice would even serve you at this point."

I am about to say something more when I see her. She is with the same kid she was with earlier. Except, this time his hands are on her waist, pulling her into him as she laughs at something he says. Mark senses my distraction and follows my gaze across the room.

"Wow," he says. "Is that little Cassidy Sloane? Damn. She's grown up nicely. That's a lucky fucking kid right there. Man, that's a nice set of..."

"I would stop talking if I were you," I say, my muscles tensing. I don't know who I want to punch more—Mark or the kid—but I know Mark is closer. I also know I can't afford the fallout of a public fist fight with him.

He stops and studies my face, but I still watch Cass and the boy. His hand is trailing up her torso now. Is she drunk? I can't quite tell. If he is, I should stop him, but, then again, we have played this game before, and I am getting a weird sense of déjà vu. I turn away.

"Interesting," Mark says.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He takes a slow drink. "Well, I guess it makes sense that you would be protective. After all, she is like a little sister to you, right? Didn't you and Kaitlyn used to babysit her?"

I know he is trying to sniff me out. Trying to catch me in something.

"Kaitlyn did." I try to convey nothing with my tone.

"Ah. Well, that sounds like my sister. She always did love kids, didn't she?"

There it is; the edge of the knife. Always ready to cut.

I have no response and he knows that. It is his trump card. It will always be his trump card.

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