Chapter Seventeen
Bailey
My rental was packed with the few personal items I’d accumulated over my life, which wasn’t much, but it was all mine.
I was ready to go back to Vegas, desperate to get back to the man I fell in love with more every day.
We needed to shore up our future because I was going to be a crazy mess until we did.
I had a hell of a drive ahead of me—more than six hours—but I decided to make another run at Lindsey as I attempted to figure out what the fuck was happening between her and Thomas.
If I were there in person, I didn’t think she’d lie to me.
Or if she did, I’d be able to pick it up by studying her body language.
After calling Thomas’s office to make sure he was there, I drove toward the governor’s mansion.
Lt. Rupert wouldn’t be at the house because Thomas was at the office, which worked well for me. There was still a protection team on the property, but with the governor gone, they’d be less attentive to what was happening inside the mansion.
I gave my name to the guard at the gate, whom I’d seen several times when I dropped in to see Thomas after resigning from the Army. “I’m not sure if you remember me. Bailey Gregory, the governor’s brother. I’m here to surprise the First Lady.”
He nodded. “Of course, Mr. Gregory. You look exactly like the governor, sir, and I happen to know he’s in his office.” The gate slid open, and I drove through, no problem.
It was a no-brainer that he’d call the house to alert Lindsey’s staff that I was on my way, but that was fine.
I suspected it would rattle her, which was exactly what I wanted.
Putting her on an unsure footing was my goal.
Interrogation 101. Surprise was the most effective way to get the truth.
Much better than beating the hell out of someone if you didn’t have to.
Once I parked in the circle drive, I hopped out, waving to the guards walking the perimeter. They knew me, so they only waved in return. As the gate guard said, I looked just like the governor, and they all knew where Thomas was at the moment.
I climbed the staircase and checked the door to find it unlocked, so I went inside without knocking. “Lindsey!”
“Hello?” Lindsey.
“It’s me! Where’s Thomas?”
She came down the stairs, pasting on a fake smile. “Oh, hi, Bailey. I didn’t know you were coming by.”
“I came by to say goodbye. I thought Thomas would come home for lunch. I picked up the rest of my stuff at the apartment, and I’m moving south to Vegas. Where’s Boyd? Is he here with you?”
Lindsey froze at the bottom of the stairs, her face forming into a scowl for a moment. She composed herself and stared at me. “Boyd? Who’s Boyd?”
I chuckled. “Come on, Lindsey. You had a threesome with Thomas and Boyd the night my brother won the election. You know Boyd Newton very well. You also know his body double, don’t you? Danny Bolls?”
She glowered at me. “Who?”
I chuckled. “Danny Bolls, Lindsey. The guy you hired to send the blackmail threat to Thomas and pick up the million dollars you asked Beatrice to send. Why? Why would you do that to my brother?”
She began to cry, just as I expected. “Bailey, why would you say I did something so horrible? I love Thomas. He’s my world.”
I pulled my phone from my back pocket and dialed my mother, putting it on speaker. “Hello, son. How are you?”
“Hi, Mom. Quick question. Did Lindsey ask you to send Thomas a million dollars before he filed for reelection?”
“Bailey, that’s an odd question. You know we don’t—”
“Mom, stop. Did Lindsey ask you to send a million dollars in cash to Thomas for his reelection campaign?”
Mom sighed. “Lindsey didn’t ask directly.
She mentioned the filing deadline and how much it would help if Thomas had already built a war chest. There was something about Thomas not being able to accept donations over a certain amount after he filed to run, and she said she could slowly deposit cash without it being traced.
Of course I’d do anything to help your brother with his campaign, as I’m sure you would. ”
“Did you ever imagine Lindsey might try to blackmail Thomas and steal that money, Mom?” I couldn’t hold back. That bitch thought she was smarter than all of us, but she’d never stepped toe-to-toe with Beatrice Dawson Gregory.
“Bailey, honey, what are you talking about?”
“Hang on, Mom.” I muted my phone and turned to Lindsey, who had paled considerably.
“You’ve enlisted Danny Bolls to help you, haven’t you, Lindsey? You intended to blackmail Thomas, regarding his relationship with Boyd Newton, tanking his career in the process, didn’t you?”
She laughed. “You’ve got too much time on your hands, Bailey. Are you doing drugs, or were you poisoned by some of the chemicals the Army uses against our enemies? These accusations aren’t making any sense. Thomas and I are trying to have a baby. Why would I do anything to harm him?”
I unmuted the call with Mom. “I’ll call you later. Love you.”
The crazy bitch my brother had married in a bid to hide from his constituents and himself was smirking at me, but I wasn’t done. “You think you can blackmail Thomas and steal the money Mom gave him with a fake pregnancy? I know what you’re doing, Lindsey. I just need proof.”
I started for the staircase to go upstairs to do a thorough search of their rooms in hopes of finding whatever the fuck she’d been slipping to Thomas before he went to bed at night.
What I didn’t expect was for Lindsey to pull a gun from her pocket and cock it to catch my attention before I got three steps up. “You’re a fucking vulture, Bailey. I won’t let you taint our future.” She was pointing that gun at me, so I put up my hands and turned to face her.
My first reaction was to jump over the goddamn banister, tackle her crazy ass, and break her fucking neck. Unfortunately, Thomas would lose his goddamn mind, so I abandoned that idea.
“Lindsey, you’re trying to destroy my brother’s future. Why are you trying to tear our family apart?” I couldn’t help asking the question. My family was involved, and I wanted to protect them.
She had an agenda. I needed to know what it might be before she completely ruined my brother.
Lindsey giggled. “You don’t belong in Thomas’s life. You know that, right? You’re a horrible influence on him, and I suspect you’ve killed more than one person. Thomas is a good man. You just don’t see that my husband doesn’t really want anything to do with you, but Beatrice forces the issue.
“I’ll tell you one thing for sure. Thomas and I don’t want you to be in our children’s lives.”
She steadied the gun on me, but as I was about to jump her and take my chances with her not knowing how to fire a gun, the front bell rang.
No way she could shoot me now without drawing attention, so while she was distracted with looking at her phone to see who it was, I hurried out the back door and around the side porch to the driveway. Two women were standing on the porch waiting for Lindsey to answer, both looking harmless.
I hopped into my rental and drove around the circle, waving at the guards as I left. When I got to the guard shack, I knocked on the window to get the guy’s attention. He slid the glass open and smiled. “What can I do for you, Mr. Gregory?”
“Who are those two women here to see the First Lady? I haven’t met them.”
He glanced toward the mansion and smirked. “Mrs. Woods and her assistant, Ms. Charles. The First Lady is organizing a charity event next month in support of breast cancer awareness. I’ve heard the whole place will be decorated in pink. Mrs. Woods is the event coordinator.”
“Wow! I’ll look out for my invitation. Have a great day, my friend.” I gave him a salute as I drove away.
Lindsey was guilty as fuck for trying to take advantage of my brother. I’d deal with her in time. Not now, because I had better things to take care of.
I stopped the rental in front of Jagger’s duplex on South Sorrel. The house was dark, the street quiet. I glanced at my phone in the cup holder to see that it was just after ten in the evening.
While I didn’t want to force Jagger to take me in, I didn’t want to be anywhere he wasn’t. I picked up the phone and typed in a text.
You around?
His response was quick.
Yeah. I’m watching some clown in a dark Toyota 4Runner parked outside my house and wondering if he’s casing the joint. Think I should call the cops?
I laughed and stepped out, hearing his front door open as the front light flipped on. He walked toward me with a sexy grin, and I had to curb my desire to run and tackle him.
He walked up, wrapped his arms around me, and held me tight. “I’ve missed the hell out of you, Bailey.”
My heart took flight at his words. It was exactly what I needed to hear.
I placed my hands on both sides of his face. “I’ve missed the hell out of you, Trooper.”
Our lips met, and the world stopped spinning. A few pecks between us before Jagger stepped back. “Let’s get this stuff in the morning. I want you in my bed without clothes so I can show you how lonely that big bed is without you.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. He walked over to the rear passenger door and opened it, grabbing my large suitcase and backpack. “I’ll move my truck, and you can park in the garage. I’ll help you unload everything in the morning.”
Jagger put my bags on the front porch before he punched in the garage code on a keypad outside. The door opened slowly, and he walked inside, backing his truck out of the garage and parking it on the street.
I hopped into the rental and backed the SUV into the garage. I grinned when I saw my Fat Boy covered with a white tarp. That was damn thoughtful.
When Jagger pulled his truck into the driveway, got out, and came into the garage, he pushed the button to let down the door and stepped in front of me. “The code is eight-six-zero-three. This is so you don’t have to get out to open it.” It was a garage door opener.
“Thanks.” I put it in one of the saddlebags on my bike before following him into the house.
“Let’s get your things from the porch. For now, we can put your bags in the extra bedroom. I didn’t notice any furniture when I got your stuff out of the back seat. Do we need to go back to Carson City with a box truck?”
With a hearty laugh, I turned to him. “No. No box truck necessary. I gave my landlord a hundred bucks to let in a homeless shelter that picks up furniture, and they’ll haul away my old stuff. What’s in that rental is all I’ve got.
“I thought maybe I’d sell my bike to buy a truck. I need to find a job so I can get out of your house and…”
Jagger stopped and spun in front of me so fast I nearly ran into him. “You’re gonna do what?”
“You said you were okay to store stuff for me, which I appreciate. I don’t want to wear out my welcome and drive you up a wall.”
Jagger didn’t move, so I stepped around him and went to the front door to grab my bags. When I walked inside with them, Jagger took the suitcase from me and headed toward the stairs as I followed him.
“Dresser’s empty in this room, as is the closet. Feel free to unpack your stuff if you want. You want a drink?”
I was stunned for a minute. “Is there something wrong?” What had I missed? What the fuck had happened while I was gone?
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you wanna come down.” Jagger started down the stairs before I could grab his hand.
I hurried to unpack my stuff, tossing it into drawers and hanging a few of my shirts in the closet before I raced downstairs to join him.
Jagger sat at the kitchen table with a cold beer as he scrolled through his phone.
It appeared to me that he’d just thrown a minor temper tantrum, but as I watched him, he seemed nonplussed.
I’d thought the two of us were retiring to Jagger’s bedroom to rekindle our smoldering connection, but apparently, that wasn’t the case.
“There’s beer in the fridge.” He didn’t even look up.
I shook my head. “What the hell is going on, Jagger? Did I do something wrong?” I walked to the fridge and opened the door, snagging a bottle of the IPA we both liked. I twisted off the cap and stared at him, waiting for an answer.
He tossed his phone on the table and took a glug from his bottle before staring at me. “I thought you were going to come home to me.”
Glancing around the kitchen, I shrugged. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“For now.” He finished his beer and put the bottle under the faucet, turning on the water to rinse it out before putting it in the draining tray.
“What do you…? Why do you rinse and drain the empty bottles?” Seemed like extra work for no reason.
“I can’t stand the smell of garbage. I have the recycling bin and the trash bin scrubbed by a service once a month.
You can just leave your bottles in the sink.
I’ll do it since it’s my weird quirk.” He opened the fridge and pulled out two more bottles before stepping to the pantry and returning with a bag of pretzels.
Did he plan to actually talk to me? “You’re pissed, and for the life of me, I don’t know why.”
“When you left for Carson City, I thought we had an agreement.” He twisted off the cap of his beer and took a sip.
“An agreement about what?” I remember asking him if I could store some stuff—including my bike, which was already there—in the garage. He commented that he had room for me and my stuff, which was a relief because I didn’t want to stay in a hotel. I wanted to be with him.
“You moving in. I said I’d store your stuff and you could stay too. I thought that meant you were moving in.” His expression was unreadable.
I was a bit stunned. “I thought you were just being nice to me. It’s only been a little bit since we reconnected, Trooper. I guess I didn’t think you’d want to play house yet.”
He scoffed. “I don’t play at anything. If you’re not interested, fine. I don’t force myself on anyone.” Then, in true childish fashion, he grabbed his beer and went into the living room. I heard the television turn on, and it seemed as if that was it. No discussion at all.
I returned my unopened beer to the refrigerator and finished my open one, rinsing it as he’d done before I walked into the living room. “I’m going to bed. The way I see it, you didn’t ask me anything. Neither of us is doing ourselves any favors by not plainly saying what we mean.”
Stomping up the stairs to the spare room reminded me that I wasn’t acting very maturely either. Fuck if I wanted to have a stupid fight, but I was as prideful as Jagger.
I hadn’t been taught to back down in the infantry.