Chapter Thirty-Six
I catch a ride from the White House to the residence with Secret Service and I’m watching the time. When we pull through the gate and into the driveway, it’s eighteen minutes from the call ending, and I see the light’s on.
What I can’t see is what lurks within all the shadows under the trees here and there on the grounds surrounding the house.
Leo’shere.
Somewhere.
Watching me.
Iknowhe is.
I canfeelhis presence.
He won’t leave until he sees me walk through the front door.
In fact, on the front porch, I stop and look around, studying the patches of darkness around me. Then I pull my phone out and wait with it in my hand.
Takes him thirty seconds to finally call. “Yes?” he says before I can say anything.
“I fuckingknewit.”
“I never promised not to watch you come home. I honored your request not to be inside when you arrived, even though I could just as easily have turned on the light and waited up on the third floor to surprise you.”
With my free hand, I flip a bird into the night.
He chuckles. “If you’re trying to bank punishment spankings for walking to the restaurant, sitting with your back to the door, not paying attention, and now this? Then keep it up.” Not quite the sadist in his tone, but damned close.
If he can see me that clearly it means he’s nearby. That, or he’s sitting in the guard shack and watching the video feeds.
But that’s nothere-here.
“You need to respect my space, Leo.” I head inside the residence, lock myself in, and deactivate and reset the alarm. “I amnotyour boy anymore—I am Elliot’s Sir. Ifsomeonehad been around for Elliot and hadn’t emotionally abandoned him,maybewecouldbe talking in-person right now.”
I hang up on him.
He’d better get used to that, too. I’m done coddling him. Elliot might be a hot mess on a skillet when it comes to his emotions, but at least he knows it andadmitsit.
In some ways, Leo’s equally fucked up, but probably doesn’t see it. Or refuses to admit it, if he does.
Psychologist, analyze thyself.
Now that I’m out of survival mode, so to speak, settling into whatever this is with Elliot, and can actuallythink, I’m…enraged.
Seriously, what was theactualdamned point of me sacrificing myself, my happiness, and my career, if Leo was just going to bail and let Elliot fail alone?
I think about that day at Elliot’s parents’ farm, watching my boy’s crestfallen expression over his dad’s reaction, and what kind of emotional state Elliot would’ve been in had I not been there to help him through it.
His fuckingsister, for cripe’s sake—oh, yeah, she’s already getting on my last nerve—and dealing with her and her relentless bullshit.
Then the shittiest of all shitty days thus far, the way today started.
Arealowner who gives a shit doesn’t leave, doesn’t abandon their pets. Not physically, not emotionally.
Hedamnsure wouldn’t waste a painfully earned opportunity like the one given to him.
Doesn’t render it moot by inaction.
