Well, it means this is real and I’m utterly fucked.
Jordan returns with Casey-Marie a few minutes later and she’s carrying my personal cell phone.
“I have the head of your parents’ detail on the phone, Mister President,” she says. “They’ve kept them off the phone and away from the TV.”
Then she holds the phone out to me. “This is Special Agent Ben Magnolia. Audio call only.” The grim resolve in her expression also confirms this is real.
I stare at the phone for a long, dreadful moment before I finally sit up, reach out, and take it from her.
I have to clear my throat before I can speak. “Special Agent Magnolia?”
“Yes, Mister President. I’m here with Mr. and Mrs. Woodley now.”
“Here where?”
“Inside their home, sir. Living room.”
“Please clear the house except for my parents, yourself, and one other agent. Once the house is clear, put the phone in speaker mode so I can talk to my parents. I want you and the other agent to stayrightthere with them throughout this call and for as long as they need you. That’s adirectorder.”
If I can’t be there with them at least they won’t be alone when I tell them.
“Yes, Mister President. Just a moment, please.” There’s a pause of about thirty seconds. “Mister President, Special Agent Elena Garcia and I are here with Mr. and Mrs. Woodley.” From the way his voice sounds different I know he’s switched the phone over to speaker mode.
I remember meeting Special Agent Garcia. She’s a sweetheart who adores my parents and the feeling’s mutual. She spends a lot of time with Mom. She’s single, no kids, and frequently goes over to their house on her days off so Mom can teach her things like canning, baking, even quilting. Special Agent Magnolia made a good choice and I make a mental note to talk to them privately later to personally thank them both.
I draw in a deep, shuddering breath. “Hey, Mom and Dad.”
“Elliot?” Dad asks. “What in the world is going on? You’ve got us both really worried. They won’t tell us anything except that you’re safe. What happened? Is it another attack?”
I choke up. “I really wish it was another attack, Dad.”
I do.
How sick is that?
I steel myself, because this news must come directly from me. “Mom, Dad, I love you both so much.” I take a deep breath. “But I’m afraid I have some really bad news.”
* * *
Leo holdsme throughout the call. At some point Angie and Declan join us upstairs in the private living room. They huddle in the corner with Casey-Marie, in deep conversation when I end the worst phone call of my life. I’ve had to call the families of deceased service members and the families of victims of other tragedies. Before now, those were the worst calls I’ve ever made.
This makes those look like cakewalks.
Jordan, who settled next to me on the couch at some point during the call, takes my phone and kisses the top of my head.
“Stay, pet,” Leo orders from where he’s now back in his wheelchair.
I numbly nod. I’m so out of it I don’t even know when he and Jordan switched places on the sofa.
Sitting there, I barely process it when Leo wheels out of the room after whispering something to Jordan. I flop over on my side and lay my head in his lap.
“Oh, pet,” Jordan sadly whispers. He folds himself around me as I cry.
A few minutes later, Leo returns and puts a glass in my hand. “Drink it. Now.Allof it.”
I sit up only enough I can put the glass to my lips without spilling it. I don’t know or care what it is. The amber liquid is strong, there’s an ice cube in it, and I hope it’s going to get me blazingly drunk in short order.
Fuck it.I gulp that shit like it’s water. What turns out to be bourbon burns a scorching trail all the way from my lips down to my stomach. There’s just enough in the glass that I don’t think I’ll puke it up later.
