“McGrath? Never heard of him.”
“I’m the forerunner for the Democratic nomination for president of the United States, with three point five percent of the popular vote,” he snapped, tugging his shirt cuffs out of his suit jacket, the familiar mannerism making her dizzy, lightheaded.
The men ignored him, staring instead at the twirling, lingerie-clad man. “Where do you think he gets lacy panties that big?” one man asked. “My wife, she’s big-boned…”
An electric ringing whined in Jackie’s ears, getting louder by the second. Doug McGrath was running for president. The frontrunner had dropped out of the race. Doug was in the lead for the party’s nomination.
Terror gripped her tightly as she grabbed her iPad, wincing in pain as she moved. She went to CNN and searched for his name, quickly confirming her fears. She covered her mouth with her hand as a picture of two men filled the top of the screen. Not just a skit then, but reality. Thunder cracked sharply overhead. She bit her lip and closed her eyes.
It’s your fault he’s gotten as far as he has.
She stared at the closed door of her bedroom closet. There was a box in there, tucked high on a shelf—the evidence that could ruin Doug McGrath. It had been left there, undisturbed for years as Selena grew up and her father made his way up the ladder of political success.
But Jackie had made her choice the night she was almost killed. She’d chosen her daughter, and she would still choose Selena if she were given the same choice today.
It was the cold that came back first in her memory—always the cold—the wind blowing across her wet skin and saturated clothing as sirens wailed in the distance. She’d stood in the moonlight, her teeth chattering as shivers overtook her body.
“You tried to kill me!”
“I saved your goddamn life! You keep your mouth shut and I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars. We both pretend this never happened.”
“What good is money? Can it buy me a new life?”
“As a matter of fact, it can.”
She let the tablet fall out of her hand onto the bedspread, her stare unfocused. “We had a deal.” Surrender pulled her down and she rested her head on her pillow beside her daughter. She needed to run. Needed to hide. Needed to protect Selena and keep herself safe from the man who never wanted his daughter to live.
And if he was elected? Could she hide from the president of the free world? Tears came in a rush, unstoppable. She’d feared the intruder had something to do with Doug, but now there was no denying it. Nor the gun they’d found after she’d been attacked and Bill had killed the intruder.
That gun had been meant to kill her.
The deal that had kept them safe all these years had expired the moment Doug McGrath set his sights on the White House. They wouldn’t stop now, not ever. She was a liability. She had proof of his heritage, and Selena was a living, breathing testament to his lies. Jackie had to take the girl and leave. Get far away from here.
But on the screen, a weatherman was detailing the forecast and the storm damage already sustained. “…leaving large sections of the highway impassable and closed to vehicle traffic, and we’re not even through the worst of it yet. Flooding from the storm surge and the additional heavy rain put much of the area underwater…”
“No, no, no…” Pictures of flooded streets flashed on the screen, followed by a map showing the majority of roadways in red. .
She was stuck here, as surely as if she were fenced in by a prison’s walls. She was a sitting duck, just waiting for Doug to make his next move. The only things standing between her and Selena and certain death were the Navy SEALs downstairs in the kitchen.
She buried her face in the pillow. Why did Bill have to die and leave her alone like this? Why did he have to be taken from her right when she needed him most? “Please help us, Bill.” She wiped her tears into the fabric. “Help me keep my baby safe.”
An image of Ian flashed in her mind, his bronze skin dramatically scarred, his wide shoulders and muscled arms seeming to fill every room he went in. It was as if Bill was telling her to trust him, to lean on this man in his stead. Sloan had called him Razorback, and the nickname suited him.
Sharp.
Wild.
She fell asleep still thinking of him, her pillow wet with tears.
9
Razorback swore colorfully as the Jeep carrying Jackie and Selena drove out of sight. “How the hell are we supposed to protect her when she insists on going off alone?”
“Technically, she’s with her neighbor,” said Sloan.
“You know what I mean, dickhead.”
“She’s been pissed at you since yesterday on the beach. What the hell did you say to her?”
