“News of you being served will leak out by tomorrow, if it’s not already breaking on the streams,” Leah said. She sat in the desk chair, chin propped up on one hand, eyes darting from Jamie to their father. “We need to get ahead of this story and we can’t do that without the MDF’s assistance.”
It was a tacit acknowledgment of the situation at hand, but also an exit out of the brewing argument Jamie didn’t want to deal with. Glancing over at Leah, he saw her tilt her head a bit to the side, shrugging a little.
“Leah is right. You need to go, Jamie,” Charlotte said tiredly.
“Yes. Go.” Richard waved a hand at the door, a furious expression on his face. “Run away as you always have.”
Charlotte sighed in exasperation. “Richard—”
“We are in this position because of his actions, Charlotte.Iam in this position because of his actions. Don’t expect me to be grateful that Jamie suddenly wants to help the campaign after nearly wrecking it,” he snapped.
Anger erupted through his mind, but Jamie kept his temper leashed. He knew this tactic; he had seen Richard find a political opponent’s weak spot and press and press against it until he got a reaction. But Jamie had spent his entire life learning how to remain composed in the face of antagonistic people.
And that included his father.
“I’ve always done what I could for your political aspirations, but some of these wounds are self-inflicted, Father. I’m not the one who refused to cancel the Boston rally,” Jamie said flatly as he stared Richard right in the eye. “That’s on you.”
Tension settled between them in the silence. In the end, Richard had no comeback for that, because that failure rested squarely on his shoulders alone. Jamie had argued repeatedly to cancel the Boston rally, but Richard had barreled forward, putting his campaign first. Maybe in some other future Jamie would be the only one in the family under scrutiny, but this was the world they lived in, and the investigations aimed their way grew out of Boston and everything that led up to it.
If Richard had canceled the rally, he’d be in a better position in the polls, a better standing with the public, but his arrogance was as much the cause of their current predicament as Jamie’s orders had been.
“I’ll let you know what the MDF says,” Jamie finally said before turning on his heel and leaving the office.
Jamie left the hotel suite entirely, shaking his head at Burwell as he went, silently letting the other man know to stand down. He was heading back to Washington, D.C., and the Secret Service couldn’t follow him there.
A minute later, when Jamie was in the elevator and descending quickly, his mother called. Jamie thought about ignoring the call, but he’d caused her enough grief over the last however many years since he committed his life to war.
So he answered.
“Jamie,” Charlotte said in greeting.
“Mother.”
“I had Ariella book you a flight home through a private company.”
Ariella Eichen, his mother’s executive assistant, was one of the guiding hands that helped keep the Callahan family on course. Jamie knew if Ariella had handled his transportation, then everything would be fine.
“Thank you.” Jamie stared at the numbers on the control screen counting down to one. “I’m sorry.”
“You do what you have to do, and Richard does what he needs to do. Your roads haven’t crossed in years, Jamie. At some point, you both will need to find some common ground you can agree on. I hope that day comes soon.” She drew in a breath that sounded shaky in his ears, and Jamie flinched at the noise. “I love you. Be safe.”
His mother cut the call. The silence in Jamie’s ears lingered all the way to the East Coast.
3
Daybreak Is No Gentle Hallelujah
Alexei woke abruptly,the lingering heaviness of a bad dream receding to the back of his mind. He couldn’t remember any details, but the tension assaulting his body told him it wasn’t good. In his experience, trying to remember it would just give him a headache.
Alexei stared blearily up at the ceiling as he pressed a hand to his chest, feeling how fast his heart beat. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax, dipping into the phenomenal control he had over his body that came from nearly half a lifetime of elite training.
It took mere seconds to lower his heart rate and breathing to baseline level. Blinking, Alexei let himself relax against the mattress, cocooned beneath a soft duvet and a warmth that only came with sleeping beside someone else. Alexei turned his head to the side, a smile curving his lips as he gazed at his lover.
Sean lay on his stomach near the middle of their wide bed, arms curled beneath the pillow, having drifted out of Alexei’s arms sometime during the night. His head was turned to the side facing Alexei, the features of his face visible in the dawn light creeping through the edges of the drawn curtains along the window wall. Lashes formed a dark half-moon against his cheeks, mouth parted slightly as he breathed. Sean’s brown hair was a haphazard mess from sleep and their intense lovemaking last night.
Alexei rolled onto his side until he could prop himself up on his elbow, still staring. The blankets were drawn up to Sean’s shoulders, so Alexei did himself a favor and gently removed them, baring Sean’s back to the cool bedroom air. Spring in Washington, D.C. was muggy, but the apartment’s environmentals kept their home cool at all hours, especially at night. Alexei’s body, as Sean liked to tease, was like a furnace, and it didn’t take much for them to stay warm in bed together.
Alexei placed his hand on Sean’s back between his shoulder blades, watching as Sean twitched a little in his sleep but didn’t wake. There was a time back at the beginning of their relationship where a touch like this would’ve thrown Sean into immediate wakefulness. His years as a deep-cover agent for the CIA had left their mark, just as Alexei’s years with Strike Force had. Becoming a light sleeper was inevitable.
