The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series)

by Tricia Wentworth

  Wowzas. He seems to be trying to convey to me that I am his, he will protect me, and the votes don’t matter. And also that we should get married. Soon apparently. Just because he’s not crossing any lines doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to. Because he totally wants to.

  When he finally pulls away, I can’t breathe, let alone speak.

  He tenderly grabs me around the back of the neck with his thumb resting on my cheek, “No one gets to talk to you like that. No one.” He says it softly, but his eyes are anything but soft.

  “She’s just trying to win. I’m not that upset or bothered. She just wanted me to look like a murderous monster, that was her game plan,” I reason.

  “Well you aren’t. Far from it. It was a low blow and I couldn’t take it.” He pauses to clench his jaw and I can see his fury bubble back to the surface. “I shouldn’t have said what I did before we know what they have on Henry, but I just couldn’t take it. At least now the cabinet knows I’m not messing around where you are concerned.”

  “Lync, it’s okay. We will talk to Henry here in a little bit, and then we will get this figured out. Then we will win this stupid Culling. Then we will figure out a way to end this stupid war. You and me,” I affectionately squeeze his biceps and give him a supportive smile as I finish. I’m not used to being the one to have to reassure him. He normally has an overabundance of confidence, enough for both of us and then some.

  “You and me,” he repeats possessively as he rests his forehead on mine. “Do whatever you have to, to get Henry to talk. Whatever it takes.”

  What exactly does he think it will take? Yikes.

  ****

  Over an hour later, Henry comes in the room still in his dress shirt, vest, and tie, but no jacket. Or watch. He looks surprised and borderline angry. He was told to come down here and find his Dad’s tablet. The President is always losing the thing and it’s somewhat of an ongoing joke with everyone who knows him, so the President said it would be an accurate ruse.

  “What the heck?” he asks frustrated as he turns around to leave, but Lyncoln stands as a human barrier between him and the door.

  “Cool it,” Lyncoln starts and sends him a cold hard glare shutting him up. “There aren’t any monitors in here. This room has been cleared. I am going to stand outside and wait with our guards for a minute.”

  “My guards?” he asks worried but seems to relax some.

  “Are detained with your father while you look for his tablet. He is briefing them on a bogus drifter threat. You have ten minutes,” he sets said tablet on the table for Henry to take back with him.

  “What…?” Henry asks confused and looks after Lyncoln who closes the door. Although Lyncoln has a cool demeanor, I know he is just as worried about Henry as I am.

  “Hey,” I say kindly as he turns back toward me.

  “Reagan. Don’t. You can’t talk to me anymore.” He looks around anxiously, a little scared, a little annoyed.

  “Henry. Shut up,” I snap. “You can’t go from being my best friend one day to kissing Marisol a few days later. Something else is going on here and you are going to tell me what.” So I meant to go gentle and kill him with kindness. Oops. Never was my thing.

  He lets out a growl of frustration. “I’m trying to protect you,” he snaps back. But the way he looks at me with those emerald eyes gives me the chills. He still wants me. Like, wants me as his girlfriend, wants me.

  “Protect me from what?” I ask softly, back to being nice.

  He tips his head back and lets out a frustrated sigh. I can see he is torn. His hands are in the air like he’s torn between wanting to strangle me and kiss me.

  I do the only thing I can think of. He’s my best friend. Yeah, we used to be a thing and I enjoyed kissing him once upon a few weeks ago. If I’m honest with myself, I’m not quite over my feelings for him because I will always, in a way, love Henry. But, I am with Lyncoln now and I truly want to be.

  Although I know Lyncoln basically gave me the green light to make-out with Henry if I had to, I don’t want to do that to him, or toy with the remnants of Henry’s feelings either. So instead of kissing him, I hug Henry, tucking my head into his chest and holding on tight. I don’t let go when he tries to move me. I don’t let go even when he stands there still and not talking.

  We stand there for what seems like minutes while the precious time ticks away. Then he finally wraps his arms around me just like he used to. He buries his head in my hair and releases a huge, shaky breath. One that he may have been holding for days.

  “Crap, Reagan,” he says with a scared tone of voice again.

  It ticks me off that Marisol and Hadenfelt can do this to the Maxwells. No one is supposed to have more power than the President, and I’ll do everything in my power to take them down. I think I hate them even more violently than I do the drifters. At least I can explain the drifters’ actions, even though they are misguided and have misplaced aggression.

  “So what did she do?” I demand, pulling back and looking at him.

  He still doesn’t want to talk to me, so this must really be the cherry on top. Whatever he says next, is going to make or break the Culling for me.

  “Is it the video of your sister?” I ask as I take a small step back away from him.

  “No.” He shakes his head.

  “Is he threatening your dad?” I begin interrogating him.

  He shakes his head again.

  “Then who and what is he threatening, Henry? I can’t for the life of me figure out why you would do something so…” I don’t want to be mean and kick him while he’s down, so I don’t say what I’m thinking.

  He finishes for me, “Stupid? Idiotic? Moronic?” He sighs again and runs a hand through his honey blonde hair.

  “Well, yes,” I say honestly. “But tell me why you did it and we will fix this.”

  “You can’t fix this, Reagan,” he says sadly.

  I’m tired of talking in circles and he knows it. I’m starting to believe that he really isn’t going to tell us a thing, that all the time and effort arranging this meeting was all a waste. I know what will get him to talk though, if anything.

  “Fine, Henry. Have it your way.” I turn to leave.

  I feel his hand on my arm and am spun around. Before I can react, he gives me a quick and hard kiss on the mouth. Since he hates it when people are mad at him, I was expecting him to stop me, but I wasn’t expecting that.

  Whoa.

  “They have Ashton and Wyatt and my younger sister Olivia,” he shakes his head and then rubs a hand down his face. “Crap! And sorry I just kissed you.”

  I start to panic. All blood drains from my face. Ashton? This was not what I thought. Where is Ashton? I grab onto Henry’s arms for dear life.

  “What do you mean?” I slump down into a chair while still hanging onto him with a thousand different worst-case scenarios playing in my head while I wait for him to explain.

  He squats down to my level and rubs his hands down my arms like he always used to when I was worried. “Don’t panic. I don’t mean they have them like kidnapped them, but he has a guard on each of them. I eerily see pictures of them every morning as a reminder that if I don’t play the part of their puppet, they will take out someone we love.

  “I have to do as they say. They knew if they included two of your family members, then you guys would be on board if and when you found out. They think there’s no way Marisol will lose with my father’s votes and his. Furthermore,” he pauses disgustedly, “they are telling me it’s my duty to make our partnership real. End the friction between the Hadenfelts and Maxwells with an alliance. Unite the country.”

  This is bad.

  They’ve thought of everything.

  “What do we do?” I ask, hardly able to find my voice.

  “You and Lyncoln win anyway, that’s what you do.” He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always wanted to further my father’s legacy… just not with her. It would b
e two steps forward and four steps back.”

  “So you are doing this for all of us?” I ask but am not in the least bit surprised. I knew it would have to be big. I just didn’t think it would be this… bad.

  “Yes. My dad. Me. You. Lyncoln. He would flip if anything happened to Wyatt.” He shakes his head.

  “So let’s figure out which guards are bad and remove them. Your guard included,” I offer.

  “How are we going to do that without them knowing?” he shakes his head. “If they think anything is up, anything, they are probably told to shoot first and ask questions later since it’s the Hadenfelt way. Are we really going to risk our families like that?”

  Crap. Crap, crap, crappity crap.

  “Well, I will let Lyncoln and Taggert know. No one will do anything, don’t worry,” I explain. “We do have someone fixing the monitoring issue though. We aren’t sure what to do. If we shut off Hadenfelt’s access, he will know.”

  “Let him think he has eyes everywhere. That’s fine,” Henry shrugs.

  “But what about you?” I squeeze his hand.

  “What about me?”

  “You can’t talk to us. Or to anyone. Even your dad,” I point out.

  He sighs. “And it sucks. But we are three weeks out to the first round of voting. I’ll find a way to make it.”

  I think of Lyncoln’s note to Rodgers that organized our first secret meeting in here. “Write me. Us. Whatever,” I offer.

  “And get it to you how? If you haven’t noticed, I’m not even allowed within five feet of you,” he says anguished.

  To add insult to injury, not only did I dump him, but then he had to stay in the Culling and not be allowed to talk to me while seeing me perfectly happy with Lyncoln. I’m not oblivious to the fact that he’s hurting and I’m the reason why. And I can’t help but wonder if I would have made my decision at the beginning of my deadline instead of the end of it, if we would even be in this mess at all.

  “Get it to Lyncoln then. Or Jamie or Sarge,” I offer. “We have it set up for the camera in your room to show you sleeping on Thursday nights at 2200 hours. We can’t do it every night, or they would catch on, but we arranged it for then so we can have meetings with you here. You can write to whoever, even your dad, and give it to him then.”

  “What about my guard?”

  “He is never on duty Thursdays,” I explain. “And he will never be scheduled on a Thursday either.”

  Once they gave me pictures of who Henry’s guards were, it was fairly easy to remember which one he kept looking to that first night I tried speaking with him. The rest have been discreetly interrogated by Taggert, making sure they are on the right side. The President was ready to fire the dirty guard here shortly, but now I know that won’t be happening. We can’t do much of anything because of our family members. Which is depressing now that we finally know what is really going on.

  “Wow,” he sounds impressed.

  We thought of everything when figuring out how we could get Henry down here regularly. We also thought that was step one, and there would be more steps following this one. I’m hoping there must be something more we can do about this situation because if all of this is riding on Lyncoln and my winning the Culling, we are all doomed.

  “Yeah. We weren’t going to leave you to fend for yourself,” I say angrily, mentally wanting to deck Marisol… for about the hundredth time today.

  Henry hits a button to check the clock on the tablet. “My time is almost up.”

  “I know.” I shake my head sadly, standing to give him another hug. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I hate it. I hate her.” I can hear the repulsion on his voice as he wraps his arms around me to hug me again. “I hated not being able to defend you earlier. Anything I thought of to say would have gotten me in trouble. I was just stuck there in torment watching it all go down and unable to say or do anything.”

  “You are going to have to pretend to like her though. Start to not hate her quite so much. Distract her. Make her think you are doing everything she wants. Kiss her more often if it gets you brownie points, even if it’s not in front of people,” I offer. “She might question your motives, but you can tell her it’s because you want the presidency. Confuse her emotions. Rile her up a little. Get her to let her guard down.”

  “I’d rather not kiss her ever,” he spits the words.

  “You might have to,” I say softly though the thought is sickening.

  “Then I’ll think of you when I do,” he looks at me with those lust-filled, fluid emerald eyes again. Not knowing what to say, I just look down.

  What do I say?

  Of course it’s then Lyncoln opens the door returning. He takes in our body language and the look on Henry’s face and probably assumes the worst.

  “Lyncoln,” Henry starts out innocently trying to explain, standing hands in the air in surrender again.

  “Don’t bother,” Lyncoln puts up a hand cutting him off. “We can out alpha one another later. Right now you have to get back upstairs with that tablet.”

  Henry retrieves the tablet from the table and gives Lyncoln a pat on the back on his way out. “Thanks, brother.”

  ****

  “Lync.”

  Back in my room, I’m still wearing my dress, but I kicked off my heels first thing in the door, not being able to take them another moment. It’s already late. Taggert and the President showed up not long after Henry left, and I filled them all in on the new bad news. Lyncoln is not a happy camper.

  I myself am worried sick, but after the day’s events with the interview, the cabinet meeting in which it was announced to the world that I am a murderer, and then cornering Henry, I am not only beat, but drowning in defeat. We must have talked for two hours with Taggert and the President after Henry left and all of us are disagreeing on a plan of action, which means there is no plan of action for now.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he shrugs at my closed door, hands in his pockets, turning back to leave.

  “No. You’ll see me now,” I demand, chin in the air defiantly as I stop him.

  “Sweetheart, I don’t know if you know this, but I don’t like being bossed around much,” he says more rudely than he has ever spoken to me before. I know the combination of the stress of his family being at risk and what he saw between Henry and me is making him act like this. At least I hope so, anyway. Even when his words sting, he only looks a fraction as angry at me as he was at Marisol earlier. I’m not afraid of him.

  “And I don’t like being shrugged off. I have to talk to you. About what happened with Henry.”

  He clenches his jaw firmly, and I know he is super pissed. But for just a quick moment after that, I see a flash of that vulnerability cross his face. “I don’t want to know. It’s better I don’t. I told you to make him talk and you did. End of story.”

  “Either you listen to me here, or I follow you to your room and you listen to me there,” I glare determined.

  This gets a smirk from him. “Sounds fun.”

  I roll my eyes and ignore that comment.

  “At first he wouldn’t talk to me,” I begin.

  “Really, Reagan. You don’t have to tell me.” This time he says it more softly and looks like he would rather not listen to what I’m about to say.

  “Yes. Yes, I do. And I want to. We’re a team,” I say strongly as I stare him down and then continue on. “So I gave him a hug because he was obviously stressed and whatever he was going to tell me was bad. It was a long hug, but just a hug. He is a best friend to both of us after all.”

  It’s this point that Lyncoln starts staring at the floor. I gesture for him to come in farther and sit down in a chair while I continue talking, and he surprisingly does. It isn’t like him to avoid eye contact, but knowing I have nothing to hide, I continue to stare him down as I explain.

  “Then when he still wouldn’t tell me and we were running out of time, I pretended like I was just going to leave.”

  “Smart,�
�� he interrupts though still not looking at me. “He hates it when people are disappointed in him or mad at him. It drives him nuts.”

  “So then he stopped me, spun me around, and kissed me before I knew what was going on,” I explain honestly.

  His jaw clenches and he maintains looking at the floor. I don’t want him to look at me with those eyes right now. I don’t want to see his disappointment. Or his pain. Or see him mad at me.

  I hurry to blurt out the rest. “I didn’t kiss him back, Lyncoln. I was just surprised. I didn’t see it coming and it lasted only a second. He even apologized for it. What you walked in on was after he told me everything. I told him he was going to have to keep smooching Marisol. He told me he didn’t want to. I told him he might have to. Then he said he would just pretend it was me. I had no idea what to say to that without being rude since all of this is really my fault for not deciding sooner. Then you walked in.” I take a deep breath as I finish.

  He keeps looking at the floor.

  “And that’s it,” I offer softly.

  Still nothing. Annoyed, I walk over to him and sit across his lap so he can’t ignore me. “I’m worried about him, and of course we have to help him, but I did nothing wrong so quit punishing me,” I whisper honestly.

  “I’m not,” he says softly and looks to me confused, finally looking me in the eyes.

  “Are you mad at him then?”

  He cocks his head to the side. “A little. He knows you picked me, but he still kissed you anyway.”

  “Lync,” I start.

  “Regs,” he says firmly, looking at me possessively. His raw jealousy is not only apparent but also abundant. I have no idea how he got through my dating both of them if he felt this jealous the whole time.

  “I stand by my decision. I choose you. I’ll keep choosing you. I want you. I’ll keep wanting you. The feelings Henry has for me can’t just disappear. You should know that more than anyone. And you need to quit acting like I’m going to run back to Henry at any given moment. Trust me. I’m on your lap right now, aren’t I?” I smile with what I’m sure is a blush.