58. I believe in you, Mr. Future President
FIFTY-EIGHT
I BELIEVE IN YOU, MR. FUTURE PRESIDENT
TWO HOURS LATER
“You okay?”
Shay’s gaze drifts from the road to me. “Been better.”
“It’ll be fine, Shay.”
“Will it? We’re complicit in someone’s murder.”
“No. I am.”
He glares at me as he pulls up at a stoplight. “So we are.”
“No matter what Uncle Conor says, I agreed to pledge to help you. Not to get your hands dirty,” I cry.
“Did you imagine it’d be this bad?” He ignores the honking behind him and asserts, “Did you?”
I can’t lie to him. “No.”
“Is it worse than you’ve told me?”
I dip my chin.
“Fuck.” He presses his forehead to the wheel. “I’m so sorry, V. So sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I grab his shoulder and shake him a little. “You have to understand something, Shay. I’m not like you. This path isn’t yours. Your mom made sure of that when she raised you outside of the life.
“My path has always been this. Except, I was supposed to be trapped in a Bratva property with a brother who’d beat me, imprison me, and breed me over and over until I was an empty husk.
Born to fade out of existence like I never mattered.
” I squeeze his shoulder. “Maxim made me different. Your family made me different. He chose me. He protected me. He showed me my worth to him and I knew, point blank, that I’d never have to be that woman.
“In turn, your family loved me, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the O’Donnellys. Nothing. If what they want is you in the White House, and if that’s what you want too, then I’ll do anything to help make that happen.”
“You don’t owe us, Victoria. We love you because you’re you.”
I bark out a soggy laugh. “You’ve no idea how much that matters! My sisters love me, but I’d never… When Abramovicz kidnapped me, if he’d wifed me, do you think I’d ever have seen them?
“No. Never. Their love wouldn’t matter if I couldn’t feel it. Experience it. Be cushioned by it. Your family made that happen.
“I didn’t expect the Veronians to be this bad, no. But I knew that power comes at a high price. I’ll pay that, a thousand times over—”
“Why?”
My voice cracks at his exasperation. “Don’t you see? I’ll never be that bride. That woman who fades in and fades out. Your family made that happen. But becoming a Veronian will ensure it. I’ll have more power than any of you. Even Maxim.” I tip up my chin. “And that’s a price I’m willing to pay.”
Just when I feared he’d misread my intent, his gaze softens, “To never be under anyone’s thumb?”
“Exactly. Then, there’s the fact that I believe in you. This country’s a burning pile of shit and I know you’re strong enough to extinguish the fire.”
“The Veronians are a part of that fire. Extinguishing it…”
I pat his hand. “Just tell us when. Wynter and I will dive out of the way of the fire trucks.”
He laughs at my joke. The break in tension allows the honking to penetrate his thick skull and he turns onto our street.
“It’s still insane.”
“Agreed.”
“You… you can tell me anything, Victoria.”
“You’re the Catholic,” I rib. “Not me. I don’t need to confess my sins.”
“No, you don’t. And I’ve no doubt that Maxim will listen and protect you, but… they were right. I was letting you dirty your hands and I’m ashamed of that.
“I am Aela’s son. She raised me to be better than that.” He clears his throat. “I won’t let you down again, Victoria.”
I cluck my tongue. “You never could, Shay. We got this.”
He sticks out his pinkie finger for me to curl mine around his. “Forever.”
Relief hits me at his acceptance. “Forever.”