The hand turns into a tight fist wrenching my head back. “Thatwasn’ta request.”
I sit up and Jordan brings me a tray holding a ham and cheese sandwich, a brownie, and applesauce. “This reminds me of army food,” I joke as I pick up the sandwich.
Jordan also brings me two bottles of water. “Well, it is a military installation,” he says. “We get what we get and be glad for it.”
“Finish it,” Leo adds.
I do. Barely. Jordan takes the tray from me and hands me a third bottle of water, which I open and take a couple of swallows from.
Leo closes his laptop and sets it aside so he can face me. “We’ll settle our personal shit when we return to the White House. We need a serious discussion about this, El. I mean it.”
This is the most he’s said to me since we lifted off from Andrews. “I’m POTUS. You know what that means. Sometimes, I’m going to make decisions you don’t agree with. When you were on The Shift you had to do what you were ordered to, right?”
He squeezes my hand, his voice gentle. “You’re not my protectee—you’re myhusband. And you defied the head of your detail. Who you still owe a public apology, by the way.”
I scowl. “He said that?”
“No.I’msaying that. He deserved better treatment than that. He will literally give his life for you or me and you blew off not only him, but a carefully constructed and well-rehearsed plan. A plan designed to keepyousafe.”
“I needed to be in the SitRoom.”
“No, you needed to be in the bunker, where everyone else could be brought down to you. Not as nice as the SitRoom, granted, but with all the functionality of the SitRoom.”
“And what does that look like, Leo?” I meet his gaze. “That it’s revealed while our nation was under attack by unknown forces I cowered in the bunker like a little bitch?”
He scowls but before he can respond I plow ahead, surprising even myself. I slap the lower section of my left thigh, where my fingers striking Duck make a plasticthump. “I already have a perceived disadvantage with the public. I’m a one-legged guy running the country. If they see me being ‘weak’ and diving for cover when people are blowing up vital shipping infrastructure, how’s that going to play during Ciro’s campaign, huh? The GOP will try to paint him with a coward’s brush.”
Leo takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts before responding. “I believe you’re wrong about that.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I’m not. I ordered Ciro and his family—with hischildren—onto a plane and out to safety. That’s good PR for me, putting him and his family first when I could have chosen to run. But if it’s revealed thatIbolted for the bunker when there was no proof I was in danger? ThenIlook weak. And Cirwilllook weak by default, because he’s my VP.”
Jordan stands on the other side of the bed, silently watching us with his arms crossed over his chest. He still wears slacks and a button-up but he’s loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves.
I press ahead. “So now the story is that despite my detail wanting me to run for cover, I opted to defiantly remain behind and direct things. That I refused to be evacuated until after I’d addressed the nation, and only then because I knew Ciro and his family were safe. That I refused to panic and I refused to be cowed. The captain’s the last one off the sinking ship, right?That’sthe solid-gold story that will boost Ciro’s numbers.”
Jordan sucks air through his teeth. “I have to admit, he’s not wrong.” He looks at Leo. “He has a very valid point, like it or not.”
“I donotlike.” Leo reaches up and cups the back of my neck. “You have to promise me you will apologize to Lyman.I’masking this, not him. He didn’t tell me what happened. But I’m telling you that to keep him from being undermined with his peopleyouneed to make this right.”
“I will.”
“Publicly,” he insists. “Not public-publicly, obviously. I mean, in front of other people. Youknowwhat I mean.”
“I know what you mean.” He means in front of some of my detail as well as in front of enough people who might have been in the SitRoom so that word makes it around I admitted I was wrong.
“Please do that soon, okay?” Leo asks.
“Yeah.” I lean in and kiss him. “Love you, asshole.”
He finally smiles, his hand shooting up and fisting my hair again, hard enough to make my eyes water. “What was that,pet?” Despite his painful grip even the very air in the room feels… I don’t know,lighter, somehow.
I grin. “You can’t punish me with that bum knee.”
“But I can store them up.” He points at Jordan. “Or have him do it for me.”
Jordan holds his hands up. “Basta. Still Switzerland.”
I laugh at Leo’s scowl. “Not that I’m overruling you but how isthatsafewordable?” he asks Jordan.
