John stands closest to the guy, and I watch the way he clenches his fists, almost aching for me to give the word to do exactly that. They’re all upset it’sKev in the bed and not one of them. They’d love an excuse to rough this guy up as they evict him.
How do I know this?
Because Iknow.
Because I wish it wasmein that bed right now.
Because if my position was reversed withanyof the agents in my detail, I wouldstillwish it was me in that bed right now.
These guys probably won’t sleep until Kev turns a corner and is pronounced out of thewoods. They won’t sleep untilIfinally sleep.
AndIwon’t sleep until he turns a corner.
I know all of this.
Iknow.
Becausetheywill all be haunted for the rest of their lives by the bullet theyshouldhave taken.
Just likeIwill be haunted by the fact that I should’ve been wearing body armor, and I wasn’t. That I broke protocol, and it was Kev who put himself in harm’s way.
That myboy, who’s had zero protective training, threw himself in front ofme, a retired Secret Service agent who worked PPD.
That the man I swore to kill and die for, to love and protect and cherish, took a bullet forme.
A bullet intendedforme.
The special agents in my detail will also blame themselves far more than they should because I blame myself the most. I broke protocol to work the ropewithout giving adequate notice. Had I followed the plan and kept moving, we would have been inside the building. There wouldn’t have been a gap in coverage.
That’s all onme.
Worse, Iknewall this shit, and Istillwent for the photo op because I was thinking ahead to the elections, to help Elliot. I saw those happy, eager little kids, and I wanted them to have a good memory.
Kevin hung backbecause ofme, not wanting to walk ahead of me.
Because he’smygood boy, and according to public protocol, he’s supposed to follow me because he’s Shae’s chief of staff.
It also allowed the asshole time to reach the rope.
We hit an impasse as I stare at the congressman. He was probably very imposing in his younger days, one of those men who’s actually deeply insecure so he’s all bluff andbluster trying to make people bend to his will.
I see through him.
I have nothingtobend.
Right now, my focus is Kev, and I won’t leave his side until he fucking opens his goddamned eyes and I know he will be okay.
The asshole mentally regroups and straightens. “May I have a few minutes alone with my son?”
I wouldn’t put it past him to take a picture of Kev like this and release it to thepress in some sort of sick attempt to turn this around to get sympathy for himself.
“No.” I look at the glasses in my hands. “You can find a chair and drag it in here and wait with me, but I’m not leaving.” There are times I feel somewhat guilty that my former coworkers are now in a position of having to protect my ass.
This isnotone of those times, because if they weren’t here, I would havealready punched the motherfucker in his goddamned mouth.
I’m reasonably sure being the First Spouse won’t give me much legal protection, either. The pardon quip aside, that only works for federal crimes, not state and local ones.
Another impasse. The guy finally looks at one of my detail. “Go get me a chair.”
