The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series)

by Tricia Wentworth

  “It was good even if we did have to work today. And, I could really get used to this right here,” I sigh in contentment, before laughing with a blush, “No nude sleeping tonight, Mr. Reed?”

  He shakes his head as I look up at him. “Mrs. Reed, if I didn’t know better, I would think that you were trying to get me to take advantage of you.”

  “Might as well get the awkwardness over,” I offer.

  “Awkwardness?” His brows furrow in confusion.

  “I have no idea how or what to do. Zero seducing skills here. I’m nervous. And yeah, I don’t know if I really am ready. I thought I had a few more years before I had to worry about the whole reproducing thing. But, I can honestly say that I want to do it. With you. And I don’t think there will ever be a time I am not nervous or a time I will be fully ready,” I say blushing.

  He slides me across his lap, resulting in me straddling him, his hands on my thighs. I sit up straighter and am immediately anxious.

  Ready or not, here we go? Just hop on and go? Wa-laa?

  He gives me his “I know you look”, and I clearly see his affection for me in his eyes. “Just give it more time, Regs. Give it even just a few more days. If you still feel the same way, maybe then we can jump in and get the awkward part, as you refer to it, over with. Let’s just get used to this first,” he points to my chest then to his.

  “How’d you get so perfect?” I ask a little relieved.

  “I’m not perfect, I just respect you more than I care about myself,” he offers honestly.

  “Well can I at least feel up your muscles?”

  He laughs, “Have at it, my lovely wife.” He puts his hands behind his head, which makes his huge biceps bulge.

  My massaging of his chest and biceps initiates a rather long and intense smooch fest and leaves me thinking that the awkward part might not be so bad after all.

  Chapter 32

  Saturday is exhausting and drags on. We have a quiet breakfast together, followed by meeting after meeting after meeting. Each cabinet member gets a slotted 15 minutes. Some meetings are simple, like one of our morning ones with Audrey in which she told us she did not want to pursue her cabinet career further and was looking forward to hopefully becoming a grandmother sooner rather than later. I, of course, blushed four different shades of red at that. Lyncoln said he would do his best and just grinned at me like a dufus.

  Other meetings with the cabinet members don’t go as smooth though, as they are basically trying to sell themselves to us to get to stay in the cabinet. And we don’t want to be jerks to the people that have served our country for the last thirty years, but we can’t just keep them on because that’s what they’re used to doing.

  We have to get this right.

  As the day drags on, I become more and more exhausted in thinking about our cabinet and how it will all come together. Even more so when I think that Marisol and Henry are doing the same thing as we are today and more than likely will be keeping some of her father’s supporters on. Even if her dad is gone, I know they will want to balance the bad blood, so they will try to keep some of both sides.

  We speak to at least five current cabinet members that want to continue their current career, but we know we’ll never choose them because of the rumors and associations they have with Hadenfelt. They say all the right things, but I still don’t trust them. I’m pretty sure those same five would easily get on Marisol and Henry’s cabinet and that’s frustrating to think about. Don’t they realize how big of a deal this is?

  So not only is there the stress of what we are doing for our own cabinet, but there is the stress of how Marisol and Henry are putting theirs together in comparison to ours. Thirty days is not a lot of time to put together what could be the most important thing we ever do as the Presidential Couple. My grandpa always told me that who I surrounded myself with made my character speak. In keeping that in mind, I am cautious to have anyone even remotely associated with Hadenfelt anywhere near me. That includes virtually all the current cabinet members, except for a select few, which will probably end up being the nine we keep. Again, part of me thinks it would just be easier to get rid of all the cabinet members and start over fresh. But, that is not the way things are done, so that isn’t even an option.

  We break for lunch and Lyncoln heads to radio Taggert, who has been more cooperative towards him since our wedding. I think Lyncoln is beginning to understand that his responsibilities will be different if we win. Not less… just different. And he can’t fully take over being Commander in Chief as the President until/if we actually win. So right now he’s just in a bit of limbo. A lot of limbo if you consider his having to hide from Hadenfelt.

  I walk with Sarge down to lunch, needing a break, and some Tylenol too. As we walk in the hallway, I catch a glimpse of the outdoors I feel like I haven’t seen in years. It wasn’t really that long-ago Ashton and I made snowmen, but it feels like forever ago. It’s cloudy and storming and looking like it will snow again at any minute. It seems that even the weather is gloomy today to match all this stress about the cabinet.

  “How was the morning for you, Mrs. Reed?” Sarge asks.

  Both of my guards and Lyncoln’s call me Mrs. Reed when we are alone but continue to call me Ms. Scott in public to keep up appearances. I love that. And I love that everyone I know and hold dear to me is in on this massive little secret.

  I sigh and shrug dramatically. “Boring. Exhausting. Thinking of trying to create the best cabinet possible seems like a pretty impossible feat.”

  Sarge looks at me and thinks a moment. “I get that, but you have always been a good judge of character, Reagan. If anyone can do it, it’s you,” he offers.

  “Thanks,” I say with a smile. Sarge always has my back and has helped me through more things than I can count. I wish I could put him in our cabinet. I would do it in a heartbeat. “I just worry that at some point, our own cabinet could become corrupt. Take Hadenfelt. It took one man to completely tear down the integrity of the rest, President included,” I add truthfully.

  He thinks on this while the elevator takes us downstairs, finally saying, “I can understand that, but I also know that you and Lyncoln are a bit more… aggressive? Fierce, maybe? I don’t mean any disrespect to President Maxwell as he is a fine man, but you and I both know that half of the crap Hadenfelt tried to pull wouldn’t have gone as far if someone like Lyncoln or yourself were in charge. Lyncoln doesn’t shy away from conflict resolution and he doesn’t do blackmailing.”

  “You are probably right about that,” I say with a laugh.

  He chuckles. “I usually am.”

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, now you’re beginning to sound like Jamie.”

  He scrunches up his nose in disgust. “Well that won’t do.”

  I laugh. “How’s the family? I enjoyed meeting your wife at my secret wedding.”

  He shrugs. “They’re good. My wife is amazing. We make it work, despite my current crazy schedule.”

  “Will you stay on, even if we win?” I try not to look panicked.

  He gives me an affectionate smile. “Reagan, even if you told me not to, I would still stay on and look after you. And you would be surprised to know that if you do win, there will be so many more of us on your detail that we will actually work fewer hours. They want to keep us as fresh and rested as possible to better be able to protect the Presidential Couple.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. “Well that is music to my ears.”

  We see Lyncoln and Langly down the hallway in a conversation.

  “How’s he doing?” Sarge asks quietly.

  I know he’s referring to the fact that Lyncoln can’t go to DIA and he and I both know why. I shrug. “Good as can be expected, I think. Freaked out that first day but has been fine since. I want to tell him every single day. Almost have at least a dozen times,” I say honestly. “And now we are married and I’m still keeping this secret. It feels dirty. I hate myself a little more each day I keep it from him.”


  He gives my shoulder a supportive squeeze. “You are only trying to protect him. I’m sure he, of all people, should understand that. Taggert should’ve never put you in a position of making you lie to him. It wasn’t fair to begin with.”

  I nod, feeling frustrated. “And I know he’ll understand, I just don’t know if he’ll forgive me for keeping it from him for so long. Especially since I know how bad it stings to be kept out of things.”

  And with that, Lyncoln comes over and we get lunch before we have to go back to listen to cabinet member after cabinet member.

  ****

  That evening, we decide to order our dinner up in my room and forgo the family meal. Lyncoln and I really need to focus on this cabinet business. It’s way more important than I initially thought. Now is not the time to be making any mistakes, big or small, because they could be costly.

  Waiting on Lyncoln as he checks in with Taggert, I grab my tablet and check for an email from Samson. I’m surprised to find one waiting for me. I mentally chastise myself for not checking them this morning. Good thing this one wasn’t sent very long ago. With everything else going on and because I hadn’t heard from Samson for so long, I forgot to check it. I almost didn’t even check it here this evening either.

  I click on the message and await the news, hoping that it’s good.

  Claudette,

  You would be pleased to know there are a dozen of us now. But something is up. Either he is here, or the deal is about to go down. Watch your six.

  N.S.

  I take a deep breath. Well, that was not the good news I was looking forward to. What’s going on? I quickly interrupt Lyncoln and tell him I want to speak to Taggert myself. Lyncoln looks concerned, but I hand him my tablet for him to read the email. He trades me and hands over the cellphone looking radio for me to have.

  On the secure line, I let Taggert have it.

  “So what are you doing about this exactly? I thought you said they were unorganized. There is definitely drifter movement,” I say annoyed and begin pacing. We are so close to the end of the Culling. So close.

  Lyncoln sits in his usual laid-back position on the couch, with one heel on his knee and his arm behind the back of the couch. How is he so calm and collected all the dang time? I know this bothers him too, but he always looks so at ease, even if he isn’t. He’s a duck on water and I am a walrus, splashing and thrashing about.

  “We know. We are on it. We have a small lead we hope to follow through on tomorrow. Our GPS tracker on Samson is very helpful also,” Taggert informs me.

  “It better be a dang good lead,” I say honestly, letting him know how very frustrated I feel.

  “We are making headway, Mrs. Reed,” he says and I’m not sure if it’s to make me feel better or because they actually have something solid. “Give us a few days. And try to keep that information I gave you on the down low until then.”

  I know he is talking about the secret I am to keep from Lyncoln. Seriously? He wants me to keep lying to my husband?! Most of the time I love Taggert, but when he throws his rank around, I kind of hate him.

  I look to Lyncoln guiltily though knowing that he can’t hear a thing Taggert is saying to me. “You have until Wednesday,” I say, watching my words, and disconnect.

  Wednesday, whether they have found Hadenfelt or not, I am telling Lyncoln everything. Before the vote. I should’ve already told him.

  Minutes later, I am still pacing and more frustrated and uneasy than ever before. Lyncoln is just maintaining his relaxed (and sexy) look on the couch. Then again, he has no idea that Hadenfelt had his father killed, or he would probably be pacing with me. Screw that, he would be out the door to hunt the man down himself.

  “You are something beautiful when angry,” he half-smiles.

  I glare at him. “Not helpful.”

  “Seriously though, when you’re about to get mad at someone or lose it, you are just a chaotic mess of beautiful,” he shrugs innocently, and I feel my anger subside a little. “As long as it isn’t directed towards me, it’s fascinating. If it’s directed towards me, I’m terrified.”

  “Yeah, well, when you get mad you just look like you’re about to kill someone,” I offer.

  He shrugs. “Probably because I am.”

  “Oh,” I awkwardly laugh. “There is that.”

  Sometimes I forget that until the Culling came along, Lyncoln’s life was completely different. The Culling didn’t just change my life; it changed his too.

  “Stop your pacing. Unfortunately, there isn’t anything we can do. So let’s turn in early. I just want you curled up next to me,” he offers. I see again how much he cares for me. It absolutely takes my breath away.

  “Is that all?” I question but smile.

  He rolls his eyes and nods. “That’s all.”

  I grin and can’t help but mock him. “Your wish is my command, Mr. Reed.”

  ****

  Waking up next to Lyncoln never gets old. Sunday weirdly enough brings a day off. A day of nothing, a day of calm right before the storm. Dougall wanted us to have a full day off before the last and rather important interview. Seems weird she had us work on a holiday but then gives us this day off. But I guess I’m not complaining too much about it.

  I roll over in Lyncoln’s arms and inhale deeply, smelling his amazing scent. I’m not sure what his cologne is called, but it should be called Heaven in a Bottle, or maybe even, The Assassin.

  “Sleep well?”

  I nod and say groggily, “Surprisingly, yes.”

  “Any epiphanies on what to do about this cabinet business?” he asks with a yawn.

  “Not yet. You?”

  He shakes his head. “Not a damn thing.”

  I run a finger along his chest while we talk, following the line of his collarbone. That and the scars across his abs are my favorite things to explore since the ol’ vows.

  “Just think, by the end of the week, this will all be over,” he reminds me while resting a hand on my hip.

  “Mmhmm.” I nod while I continue playing with his collarbone. Who knew that little part of your body could be so attractive? And what in the heck are the scars from anyway? The night his dad was murdered?

  “And you and I may very well be the next Presidential Couple,” he continues but is amused at my being distracted with his body.

  “Mmhmm.” I nod again.

  “And we will find a way to end the stupid war with the drifters,” he says determined.

  “Mm-hmmm,” I say determined back.

  “And you will end up pregnant if you don’t stop that.”

  “Mm--”

  Wait--what? I snap my eyes up to his and he’s grinning.

  “No, not right this minute. Calm down,” he jokes.

  I punch him in the chest though it does nothing. “Not funny. I hate it when you torture me like this.”

  He laughs and runs a finger down my blushed cheeks. “If you are done mapping out my body, let’s get breakfast and then I think Ashton has a little something planned for this afternoon,” he offers.

  I pretend to pout. “Darn. I was thinking I could just lie in bed with you all day.”

  He kisses my forehead and climbs out of bed. “Someday in the very near future, Mrs. Reed,” he winks suggestively and his eyes trail over my body before he heads into the bathroom and I hear the shower water turn on.

  He’s playing with my hormones and he knows it. That man will be the death of me.

  ****

  We are dressed in jeans for a change, and before Lyncoln can even call DIA and Taggert, there is a knock on our door he moves to answer.

  Langly enters our room looking tense and antsy.

  “What is it?” Lyncoln demands.

  Just like that, the assassin is in the house.

  Langly is kind enough to give me a nod before explaining, “The lead on Hadenfelt is turning out to be a good one. We have a general idea of a location, a meeting spot tomorrow between him and a head drifter.”

/>   I see Lyncoln clench his jaw. He wants to go. Uh-oh.

  “The drone is heading out today to recon but under cloud cover. We aren’t sure we will see much, but it’s worth a shot.” He shrugs.

  “The team?” Lyncoln asks.

  I can tell he is physically pained to not be going. This is what he does. This is what he was trained for. A killing machine.

  “West and Becker both. Rutton as well. Those are the men on point. Nine others with,” Langly explains determined.

  Lyncoln nods. “So all the big guns.”

  “Except you, sir,” Langly nods.

  “And you. Why aren’t you going?” Lyncoln asks.

  “My mission is you and Reagan. Until that asshat of a man is caught, anyway,” he says pointedly.

  Lyncoln smirks. “Understood.”

  Langly acts like he wants to say something more but stops himself. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear more, sir.”

  “You better,” Lyncoln nods firmly and then Langly has gone just as quickly as he came.

  Is this real life? Could they get Hadenfelt tomorrow?

  Best. News. Ever.

  ****

  After eating a light lunch, Lyncoln tells me to change into my black gear for what Ashton has planned. I roll my eyes at him. But I’m all nice and cuddled in here! Why does Ashton always have to ruin my alone time with Lyncoln? Brothers!

  “Do I even want to know?” I shake my head wondering what Ashton is up to now.

  “No, but I’m pretty excited about it. Should be entertaining,” he laughs.

  “Great.” I can’t help but roll my eyes again.

  “Hurry up. You know I don’t like being late,” he playfully smacks my butt with a rolled-up report as I stand.

  I spin back towards him, hands on my hips, glaring at him. “You don’t seem to mind being late when we are snoodling,” I remind him.