“Don’t freak out.” Those were the first words out of his mouth as soon as I cleared the doorway. Without a doubt, I was going to freak out.
“It’s Georgie.”
My jaw tightened as my eyes narrowed. I remained quiet and waited for Sean to continue.
“The school where she was talking was ambushed. Her Secret Service detail was killed. Shooters are holed up in the library with her, a few teachers, the school’s principal, and twenty kindergarteners.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Kids? I ran a hand across my face and sighed heavily. I was trying desperately to keep myself calm and focused because that was what the situation called for. I couldn’t give in to the massive ball of panic that weighed heavily on my chest and the barrage of worst-case scenarios that waited to infect my thoughts.
“The entire building is surrounded by ATF, SWAT, FBI, and local law enforcement. Shit, if you want the National Guard, we can get them, too.”
“How many shooters?”
“Two. One of them is wounded.”
“Get me there, now.”
This wasn’t happening. I was supposed to fly down to Memphis in just a few short hours and finally see Georgie. I was planning on finally confessing everything, but fuck, now she was involved in a hostage situation? Once again, I found myself totally helpless and I hated it. I was always proactive, always looking for a solution to a problem, but this situation? I had no fucking control over any of it.
There was a helicopter waiting for us at a nearby airfield and within minutes, we were in the air. Georgie was just an hour away and getting to her, making sure she was safe, was my only concern.
Sean stayed updated on the situation while I plugged myself into some seriously angry death metal. It was not my cup of tea, but nothing else was going to keep me calm and focused. When we landed, Sean informed me of the latest information.
“They managed to communicate with the shooters and convinced them to let all the children go.”
“Thank fuck. Who are these assholes?”
“Empowered white Nationalists with too many guns.” He said it too quickly, which made me suspicious.
“Is that a fact?”
“No, it’s just my guess.”
“I only work with facts, Sean. Don’t be afraid to tell me if you don’t know something.”
Sean nodded and we headed from the helicopter to a waiting SUV.
“Do they know we’re coming?”
“Yes, but they asked us to stay back. The commander in charge thinks that your presence will cause a distraction.”
“I’m not fucking staying back, Sean! Georgie is in there. Georgie!” I screamed, my voice filled with the unfamiliar sounds of panic and desperation.
“I understand, James. But I agree with the commander. Let them do their jobs. Trust them to get her out safely.”
I pounded my fist on the tempered, bullet-proof window of the SUV. The force stung my hand, but it wasn’t painful. The unmistakable burn of tears pricked my eyes and I blinked rapidly until I knew none would fall.
“I can’t lose her, Sean. She’s everything I never knew I wanted.”
Sean gripped my shoulder tightly and squeezed. “We’ll get you as close as they will allow.”
Sean made good on his promise. We were allowed in their “central command”, which was a huge empty lot a mile from the school. I reluctantly agreed to remain in the SUV while Sean received updates, which he passed along to me. I only wanted to know one thing. Was Georgie okay?
Hours passed and my anxiety only grew until it festered into anger.
And then I heard them. The unmistakable sounds of gunshots. Pop-pop-pop. They echoed in the stillness of the neighborhood, which had been evacuated. An explosion unexpectedly followed moments later.
I scrambled out of the SUV. Why was there an explosion?
“What happened? Tell me what the fuck is happening?” I didn’t even bother trying to mask the panic I felt.
Sean held up his hands in mock surrender. “SWAT went in. That’s all I know.”
I scanned the area, searching for anyone who could give me an update. They were all occupied, but I didn’t care. I marched over to the man who had been feeding Sean information all afternoon.
“Tell me what happened,” I demanded, barging in on the conversation he was having with someone on the other end of the cell phone pressed to his ear.
“Senator, just give me a moment. I’m getting that information now.” The man didn’t look too happy to have me hovering over him, but his eyes told me he shared my concern or, at the very least, he understood it.
The officer turned away and placed a hand over his ear, trying to drown out any ambient noise. I paced nervously, waiting with bated breath for him to finish his conversation.
“Senator,” he said gruffly, directing his attention toward me.
“Tell me.”
“Ms. Washington was injured. We’ll have someone take you over to the hospital soon.”
“Fuck that. Take me to her now before I drive myself.”
There was a tense stand-off between us where we both just stared, waiting for the other to relent. The officer gave in first.
“Fine. I’ll have someone take you over there now.”
That was the only answer I was willing to accept. I quickly informed Sean I was going to get Georgie and even though I knew he wanted further explanation, I didn’t give it to him. Georgie needed me and I was desperate for her.
The ride to the school only took a matter of minutes, but it felt like days. Every second that passed was a moment too long.
When we finally pulled up to the scene, it was pure chaos. Ambulances and police cruisers were parked haphazardly, with their red and blue lights swirling. Huge, black armored tactical vehicles also dominated the area, and men dressed in head-to-toe black stood around, removing helmets, goggles, and Kevlar vests. My body’s memory instantly recalled the heaviness of that equipment and I rubbed automatically at a phantom ache in my chest.
I had the door to the police cruiser open before it came to a complete stop and I sprinted toward the scene. I stopped just in front of the school’s entrance and frantically searched the crowded area for Georgie.
My body began to tremble the instant my gaze landed on her. She was sitting on a gurney, an oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth. Blood was matted along her hairline and the sleeve of her navy blue blouse had been torn away. An EMT was next to her, pressing a fresh bandage over a heavily bleeding wound. Her normally vibrant green eyes were dull. She seemed to be in a daze and the only sign of emotion was the occasional wince when the EMT pressed on her injury.
I covered my mouth with a shaky hand and tears began to slide down my cheeks. She was alive and she would be okay. She had yet to notice me and I made no move to leave my spot. I felt frozen.
I could have lost her, and then what? My life would no longer be complete. She made me whole, made me worthy. She gave new meaning to everything I did, and I could have lost her. She could have died without knowing how I truly felt, leaving me with the heavy burden of regret.
My feet moved quickly and, without realizing it, I was running, sprinting really, toward her.
“Georgie!” I yelled. “Georgie!”
Her heavy-lidded gaze landed on me and then her eyes widened before tears began to pour down her cheeks.
I reached her just as she started to choke on her sobs. She tugged at the oxygen mask, but I was quick to grab her hand. I covered it with mine and held the mask firmly in place.
“Breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe. I’m here now.” I stroked her hair while she looked up at me, focused only on her breathing. I leaned over and kissed the top of her head.
“I was so scared, Georgie. So scared that I lost you.” The words just tumbled from my lips. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I took a deep breath and finally confessed my truth. “I love you, Georgie.”
Every girl dreams about a gra
nd, romantic gesture and if they say that’s not true, then that girl is straight up lying. When Jameson shouted my name and my heavy eyes landed on him, I was anchored. Jameson was my anchor in this swirling madness. He reached me and tears streamed quickly down my cheeks. I was so overcome that I forgot to breathe. His warm hand over mine, holding the mask in place, steadied me, and I could relax and take a few deep breaths.
And then his confession. “I love you, Georgie,” he finally said.
I smiled weakly. I longed to reach out and touch his face, to run my hand along the dark spiky stubble that lined his cheeks. “I love you, too,” I whispered.
He bent his head, our foreheads connecting, and I felt his lips brush against my hairline. It was the last thing I remembered before passing out.
I came to and was face-to-face with a set of intense blue eyes. They belonged to Jameson and he was watching me attentively, holding on to my hand.
“Jameson,” I murmured, half-asleep.
“Georgie,” he replied, a half-smile ghosting across his lips.
“You love me?” My voice was nothing more than a croaking whisper.
“Yes, Georgie. I love you.”
“I feel like I’ve waited a thousand years to hear that.”
“And I feel like I waited a thousand years to finally say it.”
We were interrupted by a flurry of nurses and a doctor who came in to examine me, now that I was conscious. I had a concussion in addition to the gunshot wound to my shoulder.
“It went clean through and didn’t nick or damage anything. You’re extremely lucky,” the doctor explained.
I looked over at Jameson, who stood back in the corner, watching like a hawk. I felt lucky.
The doctors and nurses left and Jameson returned to his bedside perch.
“You have a concussion, which means you have to stay awake now.”
“Why do I have to stay awake? My head is pounding and I just want to close my eyes.”
“You could fall into a coma. It’s a precaution. And it gives me the perfect opportunity to tell you everything.”
Jameson pulled up a chair and sat down. He grabbed my hand and held it between his, turning it over, studying it. He bent over and kissed the tip of each finger before turning his heated, intense gaze on me.
“I’m finally ready to tell you all the things I couldn’t tell you before. I was actually planning on telling you when we were in New Hampshire, but then everything got fucked up.”
A tear escaped and trickled down my cheek. Jameson was quick to wipe it away and replace it with a soft kiss. My lip trembled with the enormity of what he was about to share.
“I’ve never felt this way before, Georgie. No woman has ever made me feel what you do. No one has ever held my hand the way you do. There hasn’t been anyone who understands me or who hears me the way you do. I feel like I’ve been waiting years for you, and I know I’d wait for you until kingdom come, until the day I take my very last breath. I don’t know which way I’m going, whether it’s up or down, left or right. I only know I love you, Georgie.”
“Oh, Jameson,” I whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek with my hand. I ran my thumb across his bottom lip and he turned his face to kiss my palm reverently.
“My heart stilled the moment you walked into that hotel room. I didn’t realize it until recently but, in that moment, I unlocked it and let you inside. You belong to me, Georgie, and I certainly belong to you. There’s no one else but you. I love you…I love you…I love you.”
Jameson leaned over me and our lips met in the sweetest of kisses. Tears streamed endlessly down my cheeks and Jameson wiped them all away.
“You are everything to me, Georgie. Everything.”
They were the sweetest words I heard for the rest of the night, until Jameson asked, “Do you want me to go down to the hospital cafeteria and see if they have any chocolate cake?”
Unfortunately, we were interrupted by a rather tall, slim man, who identified himself as Special Agent Heath Abernathy. Jameson growled when he introduced himself and stood protectively next to me.
“Can’t this wait until tomorrow, Agent Abernathy?” Jameson asked, not-so-politely.
“I apologize, Senator, but it can’t. I have some questions for Ms. Washington.”
“She has a concussion.”
“I’m aware. But it’s best to get this done sooner rather than later.”
I tugged Jameson’s hand and he looked down at me. “It’s okay. Jameson can stay, right?”
“Of course.” Agent Abernathy nodded at Jameson and then pulled out a notebook from his pocket. “Ms. Washington, do you know anyone named Russell Hunt?”
Jameson’s jaw tightened and his brow scrunched up with agitation. I continued to look at him, but he refused to make eye contact. I turned my attention back to the agent. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t.”
“But you are familiar with a Russell Atlee?”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes. He was the one who assaulted me a few months back. At a fundraiser.”
The agent furrowed his brow and scribbled furiously in his notebook. “His real name is Russell Hunt and, Senator, I’m guessing that based on your expression, you knew that.”
Jameson nodded. Why didn’t he tell me he knew Russell Atlee’s identity? I would ask later, when my head cleared.
“Ms. Washington, did you see Mr. Hunt at the event today? Before the gunmen entered the library?”
I closed my eyes and pictured the scene, remembering what happened the moment we heard gunshots.
I was reading one of my favorite books to the children who attended, a silly book full of nonsense words with absolutely no pictures. When the thunderous pop-pop-pop of gunshots came from the hall. The children screamed and they started to scatter. I helped the teachers and principal gather them into a tight corner.
“Stay together and remain quiet,” I told them as calmly as possible. I rushed back toward the community leaders who were trying to barricade the door. I knew I was taking a risk by helping them, but all I could think about was the group of children huddled together in the corner. They didn’t deserve any of this. They were so innocent.
Our efforts to barricade the door didn’t make a difference. The gunmen fired round after round into the library doors until they managed to force their way inside. A bullet hit me, knocking me back with an unexpected force. I collided with a bookcase, sending books tumbling on top of me.
A man, with his face covered by a black mask, approached me, stepping over the remnants of a table. His brown eyes looked familiar, but I didn’t have any time to try and place him. He reached back, his gun firmly in his grip, and struck me with the end. The last thing I remember before totally losing consciousness was him muttering, “I told you he’d pay.”
“I’m sorry, Agent Abernathy, but I was unconscious most of the time. I don’t remember much,” Georgie answered honestly.
I could see her lower lip trembling, and her fingers were knotted tightly together in her lap. She was struggling to remember. I leaned over and kissed her temple.
“Relax, little darling. It’s okay,” I reassured her.
I looked back at Agent Abernathy, who made a few notes before looking back up, scrutinizing us both.
“Agent, you’re right. I do know that Russell Atlee was just an alias for Russell Hunt. I know quite a bit about him. Why are you so interested in him?”
“He was one of the gunmen.”
I felt the anger boil to life inside me. Russell Hunt was a mysterious son of a bitch, and I had my team working overtime to get every ounce of dirt on him because I wanted to bury him. Instead, he managed to get to my girl once again. Right under my nose, he brazenly stormed her event and hurt her. I backed away from Georgie because I was on the verge of losing it.
“Jameson.” Georgie’s voice was pained and I turned back, teetering on the edge, to find her reaching out for me. Her expression said everything. She was confused but also distressed. My rage
calmed to a simmer as I rushed back to her and collapsed at her side, holding tightly to her outstretched hand.
“I failed you, Georgie. I let him hurt you again. This is all my fault.” Hot tears scalded my cheeks. I reached up and cupped Georgie’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, darling. So fucking sorry that I let him get to you.”
“Jameson, none of this is your fault.”
Georgie struggled to lean over, but I stood because I didn’t want her to cause further injury to her arm. I leaned over her and our lips collided in a salty kiss. I whispered apologies across her lips and she simply shook her head, refusing to accept them.
Agent Abernathy cleared his throat, interrupting us. We broke apart and I glanced in his direction.
“Contact my campaign manager, Sean Wallace. He’ll give you everything we know about Russell Hunt.”
“Thank you, Senator.” Agent Abernathy nodded in our direction and then left the room.
Georgie gazed up at me and I knew she had questions.
“Scoot over,” I said, lifting the thin blanket and sheet that covered her. I crawled in next to her and, on the edge of the hospital bed, confessed everything I knew.
Georgie wasn’t released from the hospital for a few more days. We stayed together in that tiny room and watched the entire presidential election implode. The term ‘unprecedented’ was used so much that I wanted to send every television news anchor a thesaurus.
Yes, what was happening was unprecedented.
Once Russell Hunt was identified as one of the gunmen, every ugly truth about him leaked, including his identity, not only as Georgie’s attacker, but also as the son of Governor Lamar Huntley. My crack team of forensic accountants had been following the money trail for weeks, and it led directly back to the governor. The governor had been keeping Russell Hunt’s trust fund quite healthy.
“Did you know about all of this?” Georgie asked. She was glued to all of the major news networks, and I tried very hard to persuade her to turn her attention elsewhere. It didn’t work.
Presidential Bargain (The Presidential Promises Duet Book 1) Page 22
