Bedmates

by Nichole Chase

  I wasn’t sure what made me sicker; the fact that his mother would use him in such a way or the fact that I understood her reasoning. Living in D.C. required the ability to see the strings attached to everything behind the scenes, the lies, and the manipulations.

  Closing my eyes I leaned my head against the cool window.

  Yeah. I really missed being normal.

  Chapter 2

  Jake

  “You okay?”

  I looked up at the douche sitting across from me. “Shut up, Martin.”

  I kept my eyes locked on the empty seat across from me as the helicopter began its descent to the landing pad. The steady thumping of the blades made my teeth rattle and my heart beat faster. The dickhead sitting next to me said something, but I had no idea what. I nodded my head in hope that he would just shut the fuck up and leave me alone. I’d known Martin for years and never really liked him and at that moment I’d happily have smashed his face into a pulp. I wanted to be alone.

  And anywhere but in that helicopter.

  No one was going to shoot at us. There were no IEDs at the D.C. airport. I had no reason to feel so worried. But that didn’t keep my ass from puckering as we touched down. I focused on my breathing as the helicopter made landfall with a slight jarring that almost spilled my companion’s coffee.

  “Damn it.” The young aide wiped up the few drops that had escaped his cup before looking at the pilot. “C’mon Charles. A warning next time.”

  “Sorry, Martin. I know how much you love your joe.” The pilot flipped some switches and the blades slowed. “Wind picked up in the last hour.”

  Someone ran toward the helicopter and opened the door. Martin crab-walked out and stood just outside waiting for me.

  My fingers gripped the handle of my cane and I slid across the seats, intensely aware of the way my prosthetic leg caught on the floor.

  “You okay, Captain?” Charles looked over his shoulder at me, his voice quiet.

  “Fine.” I caught a glimpse of his face and was relieved that there was no pity in his eyes. Charles was an Air Force pilot and he understood more than most people would. There was an unspoken need for me to not show weakness; for me to feel as normal as possible.

  When my mother had sent for me, I hadn’t thought she would send a helicopter. Not after what I had been through on the last one. But apparently the most expedient means outweighed her consideration of how I felt.

  Not that I’d told her I had a problem being in a helicopter. That wasn’t a fucking option. The Simmon family didn’t show weakness. We were a tough family full of war veterans. No one needed to know that I hated flying now. That I never wanted my feet—well, my foot—off the ground again.

  But no, I wasn’t about to admit that to anyone. Especially not to my mother. I’d survived a crash landing, pulling my friends out of the wreckage, and the loss of my leg. I could deal with a helicopter ride. Even if it made me flash back to bloody scenes that made my lungs constrict and my stomach clench.

  “Do you need some help?” Martin stuck his head back inside the helicopter and I fought the urge to punch him.

  “No.” The word snapped out of my mouth before I could think better of it.

  Martin frowned but stepped out of my way.

  Getting out did wonders for the steel bands that had been wrapped around my chest for the last two hours. I took a deep breath and inhaled the soft scent of roses and jasmine that surrounded the giant building.

  I nodded at Martin to soften my earlier response. Just because I hated the prick didn’t give me a right to bite his head off.

  He looked like he was about to say something else, but stopped. Probably because he thought I might freak out.

  I hated that; hated the way people weighed and measured each word they said to me. It didn’t help when I snapped like I had earlier.

  “Sorry, Martin. It’s been a long day of interviews and meetings.” With the help of my cane I started walking toward the black cars that lined up by the hangars. “I forgot how much I hate all of this.”

  Martin snorted. “All for a good cause.”

  “Yeah.” I wasn’t going down that road. I had serious doubts about how sucking up to cameras was going to help anything. There had been a time when I would have thought I was doing my duty, that I was really helping people by getting their vote for my mother.

  Now, not so much.

  The car ride was quick. It didn’t hurt that we had a motorcade to get us through crowded roads and red lights. I tried to not fidget in my seat as we passed a group of people that turned to look our way, annoyance etched along their faces. Motorcades were a normal part of life in D.C. but that didn’t mean it didn’t irritate people.

  When we pulled up to the West Wing, I took a deep breath before carefully stepping out of the car.

  “Jake!” Ari burst through the double doors and ran at me full speed.

  I braced my good leg for the inevitable leaping hug, but there was no stopping the smile that spread across my face.

  “Arizona!” Mother’s voice rang across the pavement and my littlest sister skidded to a halt. “For God’s sake, don’t knock him over.”

  The warmth that had started to spread through my chest instantly turned to ice. Ari slowed and looked up at me with big eyes. She pushed the curly strawberry-blond hair out of her eyes and looked at me warily.

  “It’s okay, Ari. I’m fine.” I held my arm out for her and she sidled up to my side.

  “I missed you,” she whispered. She buried her head against my ribs and squeezed tightly around my waist.

  “Missed you too, monster.” I squeezed her with my free arm.

  “I’m thirteen now. You can’t call me monster.” She huffed but didn’t step out of my embrace.

  “Actually, I believe the definition of a thirteen-year-old girl is monster.” I ruffled her hair and chuckled when she swatted at my hands.

  “Shuddup.” She mock glared at me and part of me relaxed a little.

  At least she hadn’t changed. Much. She was definitely taller than when I first deployed.

  “I’m pissed at you, you know.” She stepped away from me and crossed her arms.

  “Arizona!” Mother tsked as she got closer to us. I watched as my mother, Madam Vice President Virginia Simmon, walked toward us. Her red hair shined in the lights from the house. There was a photographer with her and I ground my teeth as he snapped pictures of us.

  “Why are you mad at me?” I felt my eyebrows pull together and focused on anything but the photographer. And when had she started saying pissed?

  “I’ve seen you once since you’ve come back. Once, Jake! Where have you been?”

  “Ah, I’m sorry, monster.” My shoulders slumped. “I would have rather been with you.”

  “Leave him alone.” Mother put her hands on Ari’s shoulders and smiled at me. She didn’t try to hug me, instead ran her eyes over me critically. “You look good.”

  “Thanks.” I started toward the doors. I wasn’t going to stand there for her inspection. I had enough of that every time I went back to the doctor and at my mandatory psych evaluations.

  “Wait, we need a few more pictures.” My mother tugged me back to her side. Her smile looked so genuine it made me sick. “That’s it. Roger, make sure you get his cane in the picture, please.”

  “Mom!” Ari turned to our mother with disgust on her face.

  “Hush, young lady. These pictures are important.” Every word was delivered with a pleasant expression. “Now, Jake, try to lean a little toward me.

  “Are you hungry?” Mom fell in step beside me, her arm still around Ari’s shoulders.

  “We ate before we left.” I didn’t look her way as I walked under the covered path. There was a Marine standing at attention and my stomach clenched. For half a minute he looked like my friend Grange, but I quickly snuffed that thought out.

  Stuart Grange was gone. He had died before my Blackhawk had crashed. I could still remember his grunt whe
n the bullet slammed into his gut. My eyesight wavered and I had to fight to keep from being pulled into the memory. It was too much after the long day followed by the fucking helicopter ride.

  Ari seemed to sense my thoughts because she wrenched away from our mom and slipped her hand into mine.

  “What could possibly be more important than hanging out with me?” She flashed a small smile. “I’ve barely seen you since you came back.”

  “You know he’s working on the Warrior Bill.” Mom shuffled past us once we were inside and motioned toward her assistant. “How did the last interview go? Rolfe can be a real drain.”

  “Went well enough.” I shrugged. The truth was Rolfe hadn’t been bad. Instead of the fake sympathy and sad looks from the others, I’d enjoyed his straight-to-the-point questions.

  “That’s good. You think he’ll go with a positive spin?” Mom’s eyes took on a shrewd look. “You can never tell with him.”

  “He shook his hand at the end of the interview, ma’am,” Martin offered.

  “That’s a promising sign.” Mom turned on her heel and headed for the office she used when at the White House. She had a permanent setup, but she was rarely at the White House. In fact, she was rarely anywhere the President was for long. That could be attributed to their mutual distaste for one another or to the need to keep the country’s two leaders apart in case of some kind of tragedy.

  “Why did you have me come here tonight?” I looked down the hallway, hoping for a sign that my father was present. Another genuine happy face would have been a welcome sight. Or possibly a bed with sun blocking curtains.

  “Mm.” Mother stopped in her tracks and turned to look at me. She was still wearing that sharp expression and she pursed her lips. “I have a proposition for you.”

  “That’s never good.” Ari raised an eyebrow. “I’d be worried if I were you.”

  “Have you finished your homework?” Mom turned her attention to her younger child. “I had to talk with your Algebra teacher last week. I don’t want to have to do that again.”

  “It’s finished.” Ari stuck her chin out, like a miniature version of Mom.

  “Good. Then have your crew take you home.”

  “But Jake just got here!” Ari crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s my brother too, you know. I’d like to see him for more than five minutes before you send him off on some errand again.”

  If they both dug in, it would be like trying to move the Rockies. Not wanting to deal with the mounting tension in the claustrophobic hallway, I moved closer to Mom and smiled at Ari.

  “When I get done we can catch up on Doctor Who before you go to sleep.” I raised my eyebrows.

  “Ugh. We are so behind. And the new Doctor starts soon. I’ll go see if we can watch in Bran’s room.” She pointed her finger at me. “Hurry up! And don’t let her talk you into something ridiculous.”

  “Arizona, seriously. You’re just asking to lose privileges.” Mom put her hand on her hips, but she didn’t look upset. Truth be told, she liked that Ari was spunky. Said it would make her a good politician one day, while Dad argued it would make her a good commander.

  “Right.” She rolled her eyes before miming that she was watching me.

  “Yeah, yeah. Get outta here.” I watched as she flounced off. “And see if you can find me a root beer.”

  “Got it!” Her steps picked up and turned a corner, heading off into the bowels of the city capitol.

  “Ready?” Mom looked at me with a thoughtful expression.

  “Let’s get it over with.”

  She opened the door to the large blue room that was the official office of the Vice President of the United States. I took a seat on a low couch and shoved some of the fringe-adorned pillows out of my way.

  “I want to amp up our work with the RCVA.” Mom leaned against her desk and crossed her arms. “This is our fighting point; the thing that lets the people know we respect their sacrifice and are serious about their care.”

  “I think they know that.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

  “I don’t want them to know it. I want them to believe it.” Her voice took on a stern note. “Because we mean it.”

  “And how do you propose that we amp things up?” I shifted on the uncomfortable couch. “I’ve done twelve interviews in the last week. Had dinner with five senators. I’ve slept in my suit for the last two nights and over seventy-two hours on a plane. Not to mention the helicopter ride here. What more do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to do a tour.” She gripped the edge of the desk on either side of her.

  “No.” My eyes narrowed. “I’ve done my tours.”

  “I’m not talking about Afghanistan.” She sighed. “I want you to visit the wounded soldiers around the country, show the media how much we’re doing for our veterans.”

  “You want me to put these men and women on the TV so they can be your martyrs.” My tongue felt as if it was wrapped in cotton.

  “Martyrs.” She pushed off of her desk and sat down in a chair across from me. “I’m not asking you to make them martyrs. They already are.”

  I undid my tie and threw it on the seat next to me. “That’s great, Mom. So now you want me to throw them to the media.”

  “The media will be fixed on you. You get to decide what stories are focused on, what people take away from this.” She leaned forward. “We’ll do more as we work through it, but I think this would be a nice way to show our thanks for their bravery.”

  “I suppose the President knows about this plan?” I ran a hand through my hair. “That he endorses your running platform?”

  “He more than endorses it, Jake.” Mom sat back in her chair and smiled. “He suggested it.”

  “Great.” I stood up and tossed my cane between my hands for a moment without speaking. “What does he get out of it? He’s leaving office soon.”

  “His take in this is more of a personal note.” Mom’s face went blank.

  “And that is?” I cocked my head to the side.

  “He wants Maddie to go with you.”

  “Why?” Go on a press tour with Maddie? Why flash his daughter on television when there were no electoral votes to obtain?

  Did the man hate me? His daughter couldn’t stand me. Sending her along was like stabbing me in my good leg.

  “She’s been in some trouble lately and he thinks she needs some direction.” She kicked her shoes off under her desk before shaking her head in amusement. “It’s amazing that her father has managed to run the country when he can’t control his daughter.”

  “Still trying to save the world?” Irritation ran through my body. The last thing I wanted to do was babysit Maddie while being my mother’s pawn. Maddie was infuriating, sexy, and so far off limits she might as well live on Pluto. The last thing I wanted was to drag her around while limping to photo ops. The last time we’d seen each other she’d accused me of being jealous and a mama’s boy. And with the way things had worked out, she most likely still hated my guts.

  “Puppies.” Mom laughed. “She got arrested tonight.”

  “Jesus. What was she thinking?” I shook my head. “And you want me to take her on tour with me?”

  “It’ll be good for both of you.” She leaned back in her seat.

  I started for the door not wanting to touch that with a stick. Or a cane. I was sick of people deciding what would be good for me.

  “Where are you going?” She leaned forward. “We need to outline our plan.”

  “I’m going to go watch the Doctor and Donna fight with each other while they save the world from Daleks.” I opened the door.

  “The who and the what?”

  “Good night, Mom.”

  “Thanks for stepping up to help, Jake.”

  Chapter 3

  Maddie

  Vibrations ran down the spine of the book my phone was perched on, making a loud rattling noise. I pursed my lips and tried to mentally make the book stop moving. Sniffing, I wiped at my ey
es and sat the newspaper down on the table. There was nothing in the columns about my escapades but there was a note about a protest over the death of three dozen test animals.

  “He’s not going to stop calling.” Bran shifted his feet on the leather sofa and juggled his glass of milk between his hands.

  I turned my gaze from the book to my little brother and narrowed my eyes. It wasn’t like I needed him to state the obvious. I just wasn’t sure what to do once I finally answered.

  “You can look at me like that all you want, but you know that if you don’t answer your phone, Cruella is going to come in here with her phone, and good luck escaping that call.” He took a big gulp from his cup.

  An imperious voice drew my attention toward the parlor and I winced. “Run, Pongo, and hide the Dalmatians.”

  My younger brother stood up and drained the rest of his milk. His gangly thirteen-year-old frame had shot up in the last year, making him taller than me. It wouldn’t be long before he was as tall as our father.

  “For what it’s worth, I think he should be proud. No one can say you aren’t a go-getter.” He threw me a goofy smile over his shoulder as he walked out of the room and I threw a tissue box after him.

  “Escape while you can, little boy, or I’ll tell her about the online interview you did for your little fan group.”

  “Hey, it’s not like I sent anyone naked pictures.” His voice dropped into a laugh as he walked out and I shook my head. “It’s not my fault if people send them to me.”

  I didn’t have much time to worry about what he said because a winter chill slid through the room.

  “Madeline.”

  Reese’s stilettos clicked on the hardwood floor as she marched in my direction and thrust her phone under my nose.