Brexley #4
“No, I think that’s it for today. Who knows about tomorrow?
” Mykel replied dryly, hearing the exhaustion in his tone.
Some days, this all felt too much, far too many battles to fight while trying to rebuild a country and keep everyone from freaking out.
We never gave up on this country before, so we wouldn’t now.
“Okay, check in again later this week.” Killian picked up a pen, scribbling something down, about to hang up with his other hand, but I grabbed the cell away from him.
“Hey, Uncle Mykel.” My voice went soft, showing this was no longer about business.
“Brexley . . .” I heard a slight crack in my name, like he let down some wall he was keeping up. “How are you doing?”
“I was going to ask you that. You sound tired.”
“I am, but the world doesn’t stop because I need to sleep.”
“Take care of yourself, though. Czech needs you at your best, and that means taking care of yourself. When was the last time you even ate?”
“Coffee count?”
“No.” Though that had been my main diet too.
Mykel sighed. “Don’t worry, I have someone forcing me to eat, even if she has to spoon feed me.”
A grin pulled at my cheeks.
“How is Rebeka?” I lifted my brow, grinning conspiratorially at Killian.
“Don’t say it like that. We’re just friends,” he huffed, sounding more defensive than he should. “She’s a good woman. Helping me.”
“Uh-huh . . .” I teased. “Is that what you kids are calling it nowadays?”
Rebeka decided to go with Mykel back to Prague, stating this city was full of bad memories and she needed to start over.
To begin a life as this Rebeka, a fresh start she knew she couldn’t get here.
Too many people knew her face; too many would always associate her with the elite and never let her live in peace.
She would be ostracized here, attacked and punished.
We also sensed something was happening between Mykel and Rebeka, but so far, they kept it platonic, leaning on each other in a time of need.
She studied to be a healer/nurse, working more with children, while helping Mykel get his country back on its feet.
Rebeka probably knew how to lead a country better than all of us.
This time she wasn’t an armpiece. She was a trusted adviser to Mykel.
My instinct was to message Caden, tease that we could be related down the road, but I wouldn’t.
After four months, he still was mad at me, avoiding me at all costs, which was hard since he was in this building a lot.
He felt I robbed him of something. That he needed to be the one to kill his father.
Caden could hate me forever, but I wouldn’t change it. I knew my friend too well. He’d pretend it wouldn’t have affected him, but it would only have sunk him into darkness.
“Bye, Brexley,” Mykel uttered with exasperation, making me smile more.
“Bye, Uncle.”
The day proceeded into the night, interviewing people for positions in our cabinet, taking calls, writing new laws, and banging our heads on the desk. Okay, that was just me.
“Think that’s enough for today.” Killian rubbed his face, circling his neck back and forth, working out the kinks. “You can get out of here.”
“What about you?” I hopped up, grabbing my jacket.
“Gonna work for a bit more, then go get Rosie, have dirty, mind-blowing sex in the back of the car, get some dinner, then more sex until we can’t move.”
“Really?” I opened my arms. “Didn’t need to know that.”
“Coming from the girl who this entire city can feel having sex? Relentlessly, may I add? And I live across the river,” he shot back. “Just giving it back to you.”
Right.
“Fair point.” I nodded, swinging my bag over my shoulder and heading out. “Night, Killian.”
“That’s commander-in-chief to you,” I heard him yell as I slammed the door, chuckling under my breath. I spotted the head of Killian’s protection service working at his desk.
“You’re still here too?”
“He’s here, I’m here.” Zander glanced up with a warm smile. “Plus, I have a lot of work to do.”
Zander worked more at a desk than guarding anymore, but being a double spy for so long, he was the best to know how plans to kill our president might be plotted out.
He was in charge of Killian’s protection wherever and whenever the president left this building.
He might be beloved by some, but not all.
A portion of the population still believed in the old racially pure ideals and puritan ways.
“Tell Eliza and Simon hi, and I’ll see you guys this weekend.” Eliza had set in place a “family” dinner every Sunday. Whoever could show up was welcome, and it gave us time to be with each other outside of work or business.
“I will. Night, Brex.”
“Night,” I replied, heading out the main doors.
Stepping outside, the early spring temperatures blew across my shoulders, though I could feel a hint of warmer weather coming.
The clear night gave no buffer to the cool breeze, the moon and stars shining down with clarity.
Most of the streetlamps were still destroyed from the war, leaving the plaza in shadowy darkness, the warm light shining from my apartment across the square.
A wisp of wind curled up my back, blowing through my loose locks.
“Bre-x-ley . . .” A whisper licked at the back of my head, chills shuddering down my spine.