Chris has brought me a toasted bagel with cream cheese, a hard-boiled egg, a banana, and a blueberry muffin.
He points at the plate. “There’s got to be atleastone thing on there you can eat this morning. So…eat.”
I sit back and stare at him with an eyebrow arched.
He breaks first about thirty seconds later.“Whyisn’t this working?” he mutters. “It works whenhedoes it. I’veseenhim get you to do self-care when you’re close to dropping from exhaustion and haven’t eaten in days. He can make you eat when I can’t. What thefuck, Shae?”
I take pity on him and reach for the banana, which I think I might be able to manage a couple of bites of. “Because I’mscaredof him,” I tell him. Which is the truth.
Don’t ask me why—I don’t know.
Why are sheep scared of the Border Collie?
Not even the bad kind of scared. That’s stupid, yes, but I can’t explain it. Do I think Kev will harm me? No.
Still…
“Yeah, see, I don’tgetthat,” Chris says. “I’ve put bruises all up and down your ass. You’ve seen whatIdo tohim. I’ve broken into your house, tied you up, nearly choked you unconscious, and had reallylong, hard, raunchy sex with you, and you aren’tscaredof me?”
After slowly peeling the banana about halfway down, I sit back in my chair and fellate the fruit.
All while my eyes stay fixed on his. And as a realization rumbles through me that, no, I can’t eat. If I try, I’ll puke.
A deep, low rumble rolls from him and I watch the front of his jeans fill in. “That’s a dangerous game,girl.You want to brat me, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you upstairs right now and spank your ass. I can get away with that. I’m your husband. Secret Service will snicker and laugh at us and hold the door for me so I can carry you through.”
I deep-throat the banana, because I just figured it out myself, the answer to his question.
He takes a step forward, his fists clenching, and I pullthe banana out and whisper, “Red.”
He freezes.
I take a small bite of the banana, just the tip, slowly chewing and swallowing it. “That’swhy I’m afraid of him,” I say, finally able to verbalize it for the first time in the nearly six years I’ve been doing this with Kevin. “I don’t get to safeword with him in the office.”
Just like sheep don’t safeword with Border Collies.
* * * *
By noon,I haven’t heard from Kevin or Leo.
Benjamin Cussler, Kev’s deputy chief of staff, conducted the morning staff meeting. I only find out about that after the fact when Angie drops by to coordinate the afternoon press briefing talking points with me.
I don’t want to appear like I’m out of the loop, or have a larger personal stake in this than I already do, but it’s starting to piss me off thatI haven’t heard anything yet.
I trust Leo to take care of Kev, but I want toknowhow he is.
How does this factoid escape Leo’s notice? Leo knows how I am, and knows who Kev is to me and Chris. How can he keep me out of the loop like this?
I’m glad I don’t have any appearances today, no public speaking to do here, either.
Yay.
I head upstairs when I know the kids are home from school so Ican spend some time with them. They’re sitting at the table in the family dining room with Yasmine, and already have their schoolwork spread out.
“Hey, guys.” I hug all of them. As I’m sitting down, Hudson pipes up.
“Where’s Uncle Kev?”
“And Leo?” Ivy asks.
