Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2)

by Lesli Richardson

  Part of me knows he’s right, and part of me hates to hear it spoken by someone else.

  Because it means I’m stuck in this job, and not only because I gave Elliot my word.

  But because I couldn’t bear to leave him to the mercy of someone else. Especially knowing what I know about him and how he feels about me. No matter how difficult and ugly this job gets, I’m here for the duration.

  Unless I have to sacrifice myself for him.

  Kev slowly swirls the liquor in his glass. “It’s humbling, isn’t it?”

  I take another sip. “Between you and me? I’m scared shitless.”

  There’s his sneaky smile. “Ah, good.”

  I think I misheard him. “Good?”

  “Sure. Whatever you do, don’t get cocky. If you weren’t at least a little terrified, I’d be having a talk with Leo to gut-check you so you could seek some perspective.”

  “What if I fuck up?”

  Kev grins. “Oh, you absolutely will fuck up. That’s okay, though. We’re human. The trick is to admit to Elliot when you fuck up. Never get so entrenched in a position that you can’t withdraw and regroup. Never forget your focus—helping Elliot function and do his job. Along with shielding him. He has to trust you. You being able to admit to him when you fuck up is vital. He’ll think you’re stronger for it.”

  I tip my head back and study the ceiling. “How the hell am I supposed to do this?” If I stop to ponder the enormity of the situation, it’ll overwhelm me. Right now, I’m chipping away at every task in front of me before moving to the next, keeping my head down and trying not to stare at the bigger picture in the background.

  “One day at a time. One crisis at a time. Your entire focus is Elliot. That’s all you have to remember. When you feel like you can’t do this, look at your boy, think about why you love him, and do what’s best for him.”

  “What’s best would be him growing a pair, coming out to his parents, and then he and Leo can get married and play house together.” It would certainly make aspects of my job hella easier.

  It would also mean ready access to Leo whenever I needed it for my sake.

  There’s that smirk again. “His dad is kind of a douchebag, and his sister’s a total bitch. But I didn’t say that.” His smile fades. “At least Elliot’s father isn’t a homicidal maniac like mine was.”

  I wince—for my own reasons, not just his. “Sorry, man.”

  He shrugs. “Not your fault. Not even my fault. Not really.” His gaze falls on his own glass, where he studies it for a moment. “That’s still something I struggle with. The sins of the father and all that bullshit. Only in my old man’s case, they’re literal sins.”

  His sigh’s filled with heavy, too-fresh grief. “Lauren didn’t deserve what happened to her. None of those people did. It was my father’s fucking narcissism and fragile ego. Toxic masculinity on steroids.”

  I shiver. “Never thought I’d be glad my parents disowned me.” They would prefer I slither away, I’m sure. Or, better, die, so they can grieve and not have to make up stories for their friends.

  Shifting in his chair and leaning to the side a little, Kev takes another sip of his drink. “There are countless times I wish I’d come out to him and Mom in college, took Chris up on his offer to move in with him, and never looked back. But since I’m still here, right now, and Lauren’s still dead, that means time machines haven’t been invented in my lifetime.” His smile looks painfully sad. “Because if they had, I might be in jail right now for killing my old man before he could bring about the murders of several innocent people.”

  I didn’t think the conversation could get any heavier than the topic of being the personal assistant, confidant, and owner of the president of the United States.

  Guess I flubbed that one.

  Gee, if this is any preview of my upcoming track record, I’m totally screwed.

  But Kev wistfully smiles. “Enjoy these years as much as you can.”

  “Enjoy? I’m not sure that means what you think it means.”

  “You have a captive audience, for a while.” He grins. “He might be the leader of the free world, but he’ll follow you to hell and back. Plus, you now have an excuse to stay away from certain things and people, and have the ability to keep them away from him, too, even more than before.

  “He’s got one of the most public jobs in the world, but he also has unparalleled security and secrecy. You’ll be living with him. That means your boy can begin every morning on his knees in front of you, and you can recenter him and start his day right.”

  I savor my next sip of whisky. My palate is pretty good, but not nearly as refined as Leo’s. I taste hints of honey and raisins, maybe. It feels warm and satiny sliding down my throat.

  Kev’s left eyebrow arches, a look I’ve seen him give aides or even Shae. “Never lie to him. Ever. Even if the truth is painful. He needs to know that you are his safe refuge, the one person above anyone else who he can completely trust. He needs that. He needs to know you’ll always speak truth to power.” He snorts. “We’ve seen what happens when POTUS is surrounded by nothing but sniveling yes-men. Merry Impeachmas, y’all.”

  We both laugh, even though I’ve already blown that mandate out of the water. “That was one of my conditions for me accepting this job in the first place.” Kev doesn’t need to know the exact order of my acceptance and statement of my terms. “That I will not be a yes-man.”

  “Excellent.” We sit in silence for a moment, enjoying our drinks, before he speaks again. “He’s going to be a great president,” he softly says. “Because he’s got you and Leo in his corner. But there are guidelines you need to know to help him.

  “You’ll put him back together every night. Sometimes, multiple times during the day. For the next eight years, the worst tragedy cannot faze you in front of him. Focus on him. Always. Doesn’t matter if the world is falling apart around you, he needs to see you calm and collected, with your shit together, with you focused on him, so he doesn’t fall apart. Keep him going. Lose your shit later, in silence in the bathroom, or while he’s busy during his PDB every morning—whatever time you carve out while he’s occupied—but never in front of him. Ever. Do. Not. Break.”

  I study him for a moment. “What do you do?”

  “Hmm?”

  “When you finally break. What do you do?”

  He swirls the amber liquid in his glass. “Those are the times I call upon my Sir.” He wistfully smiles. “He’s my Higher Power. Going forward, you must forge a different relationship with Leo. One where you can totally let go to him.

  I must be wearing a “look.”

  Kev laughs. “You think you know what submission is now, but trust me when I say the previous dynamic you have with Leo will look like the shallow end of the pool within the first hundred days.”

  He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, the glass clasped in his hands, where he slowly rolls it back and forth between his palms. “You will hit dark days where you’re barely hanging on, because you’ve not only drained your well, but you’re digging through the bottom of it by hand to desperately find a single drop of water to wring out of yourself and give to your boy.

  “On those days, you will go to your Sir when you can snag a minute you should be wolfing down a meal or taking a shit, and basically throw yourself at his feet while begging him to unplug your mind for those precious few moments you can scratch out of the schedule.”

  His gaze takes on faraway depths that I suspect I will personally become familiar with when I look in a mirror. “I guarantee you on those days you will need your Sir’s strength to bolster your own. So that when you finally suck in a breath and return to Elliot’s side, you’ll once again be that man’s strong Sir.”

  Then he sadly smiles. “At least your boy, unlike my girl, doesn’t have a fickle stomach that sometimes forces her to go days without food.”

  “I…I didn’t know that.” Leo never told me that.

  Leaves me wonderin
g what else I might not know about.

  “And that’s my point.” He takes another sip of whisky. “If you do your job properly, whatever little things secretly rot portions of Elliot’s grip on sanity and control will forever remain hidden from everyone. At least from everyone besides you and your Sir.”

  Except there are things deeply hidden in my soul that Elliot can never learn about.

  Neither can Leo.

  I won’t share that burden with either of them.

  I can’t.

  Do I feel guilty about it?

  That’s relative, I suppose. Grace felt zero compunction about ruining lives or using people. She would have ruined Elliot, one way or another. I have no doubts that, had I not intervened, she would have shoved me out as soon as she was married to Elliot and engineered something to permanently get me out of the way.

  I was absolutely a threat to her.

  “What’s that look for?” Kev asks.

  I lean forward again. “Between you and me?”

  He nods.

  “Are there things you’ve kept from Shae and Chris?”

  His gaze takes on a faraway look. “There are things that they cannot know about,” he admits. “And if you ever need to darken my door for an ear to bend, I swear to take your secrets to the grave. If that ever happens, I’ll be happy to share a little with you, if needed, to ease your mind about my confidentiality.” He smirks. “Mutually assured destruction.”

  His smile fades. “Remember, it’s four years. Eight isn’t guaranteed. Keep the countdown in your head. There is life after the White House. As long as you can keep your boy pointed on a true-north heading so that he’ll be able to sleep at night when he leaves office, you’re doing your job well. Whatever it takes to ensure that, you’ll do it.”

  “But will I be able to sleep at night?” There are times what I did haunts me, keeps me awake and staring at the ceiling, because every time I close my eyes I see Grace’s face in my mind.

  So I lie there staring at Elliot’s face and give thanks to a god I don’t believe in any longer that I was able to keep him safe.

  This time.

  Another smile, this one sad. “Sometimes, it’s satisfying enough to lie awake, staring at the ones you love, and know that they can sleep because you can’t.”

  He is absolutely right about that.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  I’m still not sure how I’m going to pull this off—taking care of POTUS—but the pep talk Kev gave me resonates deep within me.

  Elliot leans on me. Right or wrong, in many ways I’ve replaced Leo in the boy’s soul.

  It sometimes grates on my soul that I need to put someone ahead of my Sir, until I put it into perspective.

  My boy has to come first.

  And, you know what?

  I do love the guy. I’m in love with him.

  And the more I think about it…

  My irritation isn’t that I have to put Elliot before Leo. Because that wouldn’t be exactly the truth. I’m not irritated at Elliot. Not at all.

  My irritation is that I can’t openly acknowledge the fact that we’re all in a relationship together. With Elliot ascending to the Oval Office, Leo and I can obviously never again be seen as a “couple.” Especially now that I need to nudge Elliot into claiming Leo as his hubby.

  After Kev and I finish our drinks and he departs, I wrap up a few things and head down to the West Wing.

  While it’s late, there’s still personnel in this part of the building. Maintenance crews, decorating teams, and people trying to wrap up their final tasks before handing their jobs and desks over to their replacements. Thank god it’s less than a quarter of the staff being replaced. Hell, Angie gets to keep her office, since she’s staying on as Elliot’s press secretary.

  Fucking Elliot over the Resolute desk can wait for another evening, after the inauguration, when Leo can join us.

  I know in the beginning of this new thing between myself and Elliot that I joked about maybe “letting” Leo do it. Now, I realize some things need to be saved for Leo, reserved as special moments to center him in our lives so resentment doesn’t build within him.

  Because Kev’s right that there are now partitions in both my soul and Elliot’s, because of the job Elliot has been elected to do.

  Elliot’s in his office, so I walk in and quietly shut and lock the door behind me.

  When he looks up at my entrance, and with those glasses on, the expression of relief on his face to realize it’s me makes me struggle not to hurry over to him and pull him into my arms.

  Elliot needs my strength.

  Somewhere, I’ll have to buy, borrow, beg, or steal some.

  Or fake it until I make it between periods of my precious time stolen with Leo.

  “Mister President,” I softly say, in that tone.

  The same tone I frequently use on my boy. The trick Leo taught me about using the title.

  I know it’s having an effect because I watch the way Elliot’s throat works as he stares at me, his eyes growing wider by the second.

  My gaze cuts to the floor, then back to him.

  After another couple of breaths, he removes his glasses, sets them on the desk, and then slithers out of his chair and onto the floor, pretty much exactly where I wanted him.

  “Good boy,” I whisper. The way his chest hitches nearly shreds what little self-control I have.

  I know exactly what he just did—he caught himself on the brink of tears and sucked in a sharp breath to hold them at bay.

  I know, because I’ve done that how many times lately?

  Countless times.

  Usually from seeing Leo at an official event and being unable to do more than make and hold eye contact with him for a few seconds. Seconds that tell me I’m his, and he loves me, and he’s proud of me.

  In the rare, private interludes when it’s just me and Leo, I barely have the brain cells to process what Leo says to me at any given time. In those moments, I’m too busy trying to cram as much need and longing into however precious few minutes we have together so I can refill my well to take care of Elliot.

  I don’t know how Leo managed it for all those years before I came along. It is truly fucking exhausting.

  Except Elliot’s worth it. Sooo worth it.

  Not the office, or the title, or the job.

  The man and his heart and love are worth it. I’ll walk through hell for Elliot.

  At least I now have a new nightmare to take away both the sound of the gunshots and the sound of Leo crying in my memories.

  To know my boy is safe, though?

  Again—worth it.

  I don’t think that makes me a sociopath or a psychopath. I think it makes me a very protective owner who’d do anything to keep the man he loves safe for the good of the country.

  Too self-aggrandizing?

  Maybe.

  Leo and Elliot can never know what I’ve done, the lengths I’ve gone to in the name of keeping him safe.

  My poor boy.

  I unbutton my blazer, remove it, and drape it over the back of Elliot’s chair. He’s in shirt sleeves but his cuffs are buttoned and his tie neatly tied. I lower myself into the chair he just vacated, a chair still warm from my boy’s gorgeous ass being planted in it. On the way, I snatch his tie with my right fist, pulling him with me as I wrap it around my hand to snug him up short.

  I know I didn’t imagine that little moan I just heard.

  Unless the mice in this place are having a noisy cheese-filled sex orgy, I’m pretty sure it was Elliot’s moan that softly floated through the room when I drew him between my thighs and pressed his face against my fly.

  With my left hand, I cup the back of his head and gently massage. It’s become our thing, not just a Leo thing.

  Actually, last week, I caught myself doing it to Leo while we were snuggling.

  Funny, I know.

  At least he understands. He didn’t spank me very hard for it, either.

  Darn i
t.

  I keep my voice low. “That’s it, Mister President. You can be whoever you need to be for everyone else, but I get you on your knees, don’t I?”

  His arms slip around me, hands clutching my ass. “Yes, Sir,” his muffled reply floats to me.

  I suspect he’s already deep in subspace.

  Kev’s words come back to me and I realize he’s absolutely right.

  I am Elliot’s Higher Power. Exactly the way that Leo is mine.

  The way Leo was once Elliot’s.

  I hope the three of us can make it through relatively unscathed on the other side. At this point, I know it’d shatter my heart to lose either of them. Turns out Leo wasn’t as crazy as I thought when he wanted us both back in the beginning.

  I wasn’t ready then. Neither was Elliot.

  It wouldn’t have worked for that very reason.

  But Leo must accept there can only be one Master when it comes to Elliot and doing this job going forward. Leo can’t brush past me and step in, take control of Elliot, and confuse him, unless I’ve deliberately handed Elliot off to him for that moment. I’ve got Elliot on an even keel and need to keep him there.

  If Leo can accept that and work with me…

  Then I guess we’ll see what happens.

  If all three of us are still here in eight years, I’ll be happy to step aside and let Leo completely run the show once more.

  For now, he’s going to have to learn how to be satisfied being a second-hand Master to Elliot.

  Meaning Leo will have to settle for only having me like that.

  Unless I can move him off his ass about not talking Elliot into marrying him.

  Hmm.

  I’m not taking any options off the table.

  After a few minutes, Elliot starts nuzzling at the front of my slacks. “Do what you need to do, baby.” I flip my tie up and out of the way while he eagerly unfastens my belt and slacks and fishes out my cock. When he swallows me to the root, my hand tightens on the back of his head, fisting his hair and making both of us moan, only for slightly different reasons.