Chapter 4
Four
Brooks
Fucking great.
I considered walking straight past them. Then I remembered ignoring reporters wasn’t great for the future-president image.
“Brooks!” people shouted.
Their shrill voices made me want to rip my damn eardrums out.
Cameras flashed around me. I gave them the smile I’d been trained to wear since I had baby teeth. Damn, this shit hurt my face sometimes.
“How’s your dad?” one reporter asked.
“Are you scared you’ll be the next victim of an assassination attempt?” another asked. “That a bullet could strike you at any time?”
“Of course not,” I replied before making a show of peering back at Philip standing behind me wearing dark sunglasses. “I trust my Secret Service with my life.”
That was the truth. I did.
I also wasn’t worried about some stupid motherfucker shooting me. I was more worried about them going after my mother or Adelina. If someone even tried, I’d rip their fucking throat out, boil it, then make their family eat it for Thanksgiving dinner.
Clouds swallowed the sun as a cold raindrop smacked into my cheek.
Thanks, Mother Nature.
That was why I always recycled.
I was ready to bid them farewell when one question stopped me.
“Why are you okay with Adelina still being friends with Daphne Kenward?” a nasally voice asked. “We’ve heard rumors she was maybe behind the last attempt to take your father’s life.”
I searched the crowd for the man who’d asked the question. He held the microphone with shaky hands while waiting for my reply.
A few weeks ago, my father had survived assassination attempt number fucking two. Everyone knew the vice president was behind that one. Not the blond beauty I was obsessed with.
I counted to five to stop myself from shoving the microphone down his scrawny throat.
I faked a smile. “Disgraced Senator Kenward’s daughter was in no way responsible for any assassination attempt on my father.” I cleared my throat. “If she had been, I’m sure she would’ve had better aim than the losers who were responsible.”
A few reporters chuckled. Those without cameras jotted down my quote in their notebooks.
By tonight, every cable news network and political podcast would be dissecting that quote.
Was Brooks Byron joking?
Or wasn’t he?
Let them figure that shit out.
I turned and walked toward the sleek black armored sedan waiting for me.
It was time I told my father I’d chosen my Fawn for the year.
I already knew hell was about to break loose.
“Absolutely fucking not,” my father roared, slamming his fist onto the Resolute Desk.
The glass of bourbon sitting there rattled against its marble coaster.
He snatched the drink and drained enough of it to make the ice smack against his teeth before dragging a hand down his face, like hearing Daphne’s name had physically dirtied him.
Raindrops tapped against the windows as the Resolute Desk stood between us.
The same desk where I’d fucked Daphne.
Every time I stepped into the Oval Office, I saw her spread across that desk. Wet and waiting for me. I could still hear every sound she’d failed to keep quiet while I thrusted inside her. Could still remember the way her perfume had clung to my shirt afterward.
The second I became president, this office would be the first thing I remodeled. I couldn’t run a country in here.
He exhaled sharply before dropping his hand to the desk. “I already have to tolerate Adelina being friends with her. That stupid bitch should’ve been gone from our lives years ago.”
I gripped the arm of my chair and fought the urge to put my fist through my father’s face. Only I got to speak about Daphne that way.
“I refuse to allow you to choose her.” He stared me down. “I’ll fight it.”
He could do that too.
Elder Sons still got a vote, even after graduating. My father had enough influence to get plenty of those fuckers on his side. That was the only reason I was here.
Not to ask permission. To get his vote.
I pulled my shoulders back. “She’s going to be my Fawn.”
He eased back in his chair, rolling a Montblanc pen between his fingers. “Why do you want her?”
“To get revenge.”
“While I like that plan …” He clicked the pen. “There’s a problem with it.”
“What’s that?”
“We have to trust the Fawns we bring into our world. No Kenward can be trusted.”
“Daphne has known about our world for years and has never said a word. I might not trust her with shit, but she knows the rules.”
He stopped clicking the pen. “Good point.”
I kept my expression blank and waited.
He pointed the pen at me. “You want my approval? Then put her through hell.”
Attending Byron family dinners was more awkward than the time my mother had walked in on me getting a blow job from her hairstylist.
We were in the State Dining Room. Honest Abe stared me down from the portrait above the fireplace.
My father sat to my left at the head of the table. President Edward Byron used to look ten years younger than he was. Then he became president. The office had taken every one of those years back and more.
He wasn’t only running a country. He was keeping the wheels of corruption turning too.
We had the same blond hair, but his was starting to recede. No gray yet. His cleft chin was prominent on his clean-shaven face.
My mother sat to his right in a blue dress. Catherine Byron was former Miss USA and heiress to a long line of government power players. See? Perfect fucking candidate for a First Lady.
Her red hair was clipped halfway back with a diamond barrette, and freckles scattered along her nose.
Then Adelina sat beside her, dressed in her DC-approved clothes, nothing like what she wore at Saint Vale. She hated my mother’s strict dress code, but too bad.
We all had roles to play.
Hers was the easiest.
“Daddy,” she said in that fake sweet voice she always used when she wanted something.
I wiped my mouth with the cloth napkin to hide my grin.
My father stopped mid-cut of his rib eye, peering over at her. “Yes, Adelina?”
Adelina flicked a nervous look at our mother, who gave her an encouraging nod.
“Spit it out.” He went back to cutting his steak. “You can throw me all the innocent looks and voices you want, but it won’t change my mind on whatever you’re about to ask me.”
“Since my schedule is open this week …” she started.
“Yes …” He shoved the rib eye bite into his mouth.
“Can I spend fall break with Daphne in Calira?” she rushed out in one breath. “It’s the Tide Ball.”
His face reddened more with each chew until he swallowed his bite. “Jesus. Can I not go a fucking day without hearing about that girl?”
My mother dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin while silently mouthing, Sorry, to Adelina.
“No, Adelina.” He was using all his restraint to keep his voice calm. “Didn’t your mother tell you we have many events on the schedule during your break? Your obligations just won’t allow it.”
“Okay.” Adelina stabbed a piece of broccoli with her fork, then shoved it into her mouth, refusing to look at him now. No more sweet smile.
I didn’t know why she wasted her time. Everyone knew what the answer would be.
I took a slow sip of the Bordeaux, hiding my sucks to be you smile behind the glass.
Adelina didn’t get to decide where she went, but I did.
And I knew exactly where I was headed.
Straight to fucking Calira.