by May Archer
Copyright 2017 by May Archer
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed without written permission of the author, with the exception of small quotations for promotional purposes.
Please note this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real places or people is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
“...Although the senator remains coy about the possibility of a presidential run, it’s clear to all observers that his star is on the rise.
Since appearing on the political scene several years ago, Emmett Shaw has been the darling of the ultra-conservative Family Ethics Group. Becoming a standard-bearer for the Group’s push to ‘restore traditional values in America,’ Shaw has championed bills seeking to overturn marriage equality, cut funding for family planning clinics that provide abortions, and to protect public and private employees from charges of discrimination provided they are acting on a sincerely held religious belief.
Critics have called these measures unquestionably unjust and un-American, but the choice to support these bills, Shaw says, was an easy one.
“I’m a parent of two fine children myself,” the senator tells me, leaning back in his office chair and producing a family picture. “When I’m presented with legislation that really comes down to a question of morals, I ask myself what kind of future I’d like for my son and daughter, what kind of legacy I want to leave them. And then the path forward becomes clear. There’s nothing on earth more important than my family.”
His pride in his children is clear, and Shaw seems to have every reason to be proud. His daughter, Arcadia, a runner-up for Miss Tennessee last year, has been an active part of her father’s staff since his first campaign, and his son, Cain, a second-year law student, has taken a semester off to help his father raise money for other Family Ethics Group candidates around the country. Certainly, the younger Mr. Shaw, with his classic good looks, has become a campaign favorite, inspiring many young voters to explore the Group’s platform and to become more politically involved.
“My boy is loyal to his family, and committed to doing the right thing,” Shaw beams. “My children are a joy, both of them.”
Though the senator speaks easily of joy, he’s also a man who’s all-too-familiar with tragedy. It was just over a year ago that his best friend, Levi Seaver, along with Seaver’s wife Charlotte and their future daughter-in-law Amy McMann, were killed when their private plane crashed into a Tennessee mountain on the way to visit the Shaw family.
Levi Seaver was best known as the genius behind Seaver Technologies, the company that he and Emmett Shaw, along with mutual friend Jonathan McMann, founded more than two decades ago.
The cause of the crash was found to be pilot negligence, but because the pilot, Damon Fitzpatrick, was killed along with his passengers, he never formally faced charges.
Shaw says the shock of the loss made his family closer than ever...”
Cain’s stomach churned as he read the words. The lights of the crowded function room suddenly seemed far too bright, the air starved of oxygen. He clicked his phone off without finishing the article, and glanced at his sister as he slid it back into his pocket.
“Jesus. This article is…” He shook his head as he struggled to complete the sentence. Disgusting? Ridiculous? Outright lies?
“Brilliant! I know!” Cady squealed, staring at her reflection in the mirror over the bar and smoothing down a non-existent flyaway from her long, blonde hair. She swiveled on her stool to face Cain, excitement on her face. “That’s why I wanted you to read it. Such a major coup for Daddy to have Gary North writing about him in the first place, and for him to have garnered this level of attention without even officially declaring his candidacy.”
She made an excited noise so high-pitched the dolphins in the Harbor outside could hear it, and Cain motioned to the bartender to refill his water glass, wishing it was something stronger. That sham of an article - hell, of the whole spectacle tonight, could really only be swallowed with alcohol.
Cady took a tube of lip-stuff from her tiny purse and dabbed it on her already-pink lips, then hopped down from the stool. “You ready to get your game face back on? The photographers are going to want a couple of pics with just the two of us for Daddy’s donors’ Christmas cards, and then a couple more with Ed Burke.”
Cain’s blank face must have given him away, because Cady sighed. “Ed Burke? The conservative candidate for senator here in Massachusetts? The one the Family Ethics Group endorsed? The one we’re here to raise money for?”
Jesus. Right.
Cain pulled his lips into a grotesque smile and widened his eyes, approximating the look of utter rapture that Senator Emmett Shaw’s campaign donors no doubt wanted to see on their holiday cards. His reflection above the bar showed he looked like Jack Nicholson from The Shining.
Perfect.
Cady caught his expression and rolled her eyes, before casting a surreptitious glance around them, likely making sure no one had captured his comical expression on a cell camera, but she knew better than to say a word. After two months of being forced to attend back-to-back fundraisers, two months of living under his parents’ iron-fisted control, it was probably obvious to anyone who knew Cain even a little that he was thisclose to a breakdown.
Of course, nobody close enough to recognize the symptoms actually gave a shit about his mental state.
He put a hand on Cady’s waist and guided her toward the crowded area near the front of the room where his father was holding court.
“I’m sure it’s great that this Gary North person has written the article, but am I supposed to have any idea who he is?” Cain asked, mostly to distract himself from the growing horror of stepping closer to the laughing, fawning flock of conservative voters who hung on Senator Shaw’s every word.
It could always be worse, he reminded himself. You could be trapped under a rockslide or dangling off a balcony. Oh! Or actually stuck talking to the donors, rather than smiling and shaking hands.
Cady turned to him in surprise. “Duh! You don’t know who Gary North is? I mean, I know you were pre-law, not journalism like me, but the guy is a big deal. I mean, a flaming liberal of course, in case you couldn’t tell by the fact that he writes for The Herald. But he just won an award for some undercover reporting he did.”
Cain nodded mechanically, already tuning out her words as they drew closer to the senator and took their appointed places at his side. As always, the photographers’ flashbulbs turned in Cain’s direction.
He sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out.
Another day, another photo op.
It could always be worse. Pits of lava. Hungry sharks. This is a cake-walk, he reminded himself. But he couldn’t quite make himself believe it.
Cain could recall a time when pretending hadn’t been this difficult. He was a Shaw, for God’s sake. Pretending was probably in his blood, or if not, it was definitely something he’d learned from the cradle. When his kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Lafferty, had asked what he wanted to dress up as for Halloween, he’d known better than to say “princess,” no matter how amazingly sparkly the costumes had been. Later, when all the other guys talked incessantly about sports, he’d been careful to memorize all the crucial stats for all the Boston teams, so no one would guess he was more interested in the hot players than the games.
And when his father had run for office years before, Cain had stood on the platform behind him and faked agreement with every homophobic thing the man had said, all the while trying not to pop a boner because the celebrity donor standing next to him was so fucking hot. (Rule number one: Getting wood for Adam Baldwin was not acceptable when you were the son of a man with serious political ambitions who was trying
to woo the ultra-conservative Family Ethics Group, no matter how amazing Adam had been on Firefly.)
He’d accepted all the pretense - hated it, but accepted it - because as annoying and controlling as his father was, as much as they’d disagreed on all things political, as much as he’d blamed the man for all the shit that had gone down with Jesse back in high school, he’d loved his father. He’d known without a doubt that his father was a good man.
Jesus God, Cain had been so criminally naive about everything concerning Senator Shaw, he wanted to go back in time and slap himself.
“For God’s sake, Cain, look happy,” Lucy Shaw hissed in his ear, her own brilliant smile not dimming one iota. “Remember who you are. Remember why you’re here!”
Oh, he remembered why he was here alright; he was unlikely to ever fucking forget. But he couldn’t imagine how his mother felt that it was any reason to smile.
The photographer gave Cain a thumbs-up and moved on to taking fake-candid shots of the senator with his donors. Cain scanned the room, looking for a familiar face or preferably an empty corner he could escape to. He didn’t expect any of his old Boston friends to be here tonight - he hadn’t exactly been a popular kid in high school, and he’d hardly kept in touch with them, especially after what happened to Jesse. His college acquaintances were all near his parents’ new house in Tennessee. And his other childhood friends - Sebastian and Camden Seaver, and Drew McMann - weren’t likely to attend any event hosted by Senator Emmett Shaw.
They knew the truth about him, too.
Cain’s eyes passed over a hundred curious faces, all watching his family with some combination of awe and respect, but his gaze snagged on one man who stared at him way more intently than the average Shaw supporter, and smiled like he could guess Cain’s secrets.
Cain’s pulse kicked up.
The guy was completely nondescript - average height, build, and face, light brown hair, skin, and eyes - the kind of man who’d be impossible to pick out of a lineup, if it weren’t for the determined, knowing way he met Cain’s gaze.
Cain didn’t allow his eyes to linger, but he moved to stand behind his sister. Arcadia Shaw prided herself on knowing everyone worth knowing, and she’d sure as hell know everyone on tonight’s guest list.
“Who’s that guy at your two-o’clock?” he asked. “Pink shirt, brown hair.”
Cady turned her head just past two o’clock to nod benevolently at a tall woman in red, then turned back to Cain excitedly. “That’s Gary North!”
“He’s here?”
“Were you even listening when I explained this to you earlier?” she demanded. “He’s doing a whole series of articles on Daddy. It’s going to be excellent publicity.”
Cain did another casual room-sweep with his eyes. Gary still watched him, and Cain didn’t like it. Gary looked like the kind of guy who’d happily exploit his secrets. Cain forced himself not to dwell on the thousands of worst-case scenarios running through his head.
“Senator Shaw, I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to see you up here campaigning for Ed Burke!” Cain refocused his attention on the pink, balding man who was apparently trying to wrench the senator’s arm from its socket with the force of his handshake. “Next best thing to luring you back to Boston yourself. What we need here in Massachusetts is a strong, conservative voice. We’ve been without one for too long!”
Emmett Shaw’s immaculately-groomed sandy-blond hair gleamed in the light from the chandelier, and his avid blue eyes, two shades lighter than Cain’s own, locked on the pink man with what Cain knew would be the force of a laser.
God help the man who defied those eyes. Lord knew, Cain rarely managed it.
“I couldn’t agree more, Mister?” his father said, with an upward inflection at the end of the sentence that invited the man to give his name… along with his credit card number and ATM pin.
The pink man, thrilled to have caught the attention of the Senator Emmett Shaw and not realizing that he’d just walked himself into a trap, provided it eagerly. “Bill, er, William. William Fassbender. Of Fassbender and Sons Auto. The largest importer of luxury vehicles in the Northeast. You might have heard of us?”
Oh, Bill. Bill, Bill, Bill. You poor sap, with your pride and your luxury vehicles. You just sold your soul.
Cain held his breath and watched the ensuing carnage with something like sympathy. Bill, who had likely never been called William except by his mother, but had decided his full name made him sound more distinguished, was quick to agree that liberal immorality was the cause of so much suffering in the world today, and that every American had a duty to put a stop to it. Would William be willing to stand up and do what so many men were too weak to do?
Why, of course he would! Gladly! Did Senator Shaw need money? A house? A kidney? Coming right up! Anything for the Senator Shaw, with his perfect hair, charming manners, spotless record, and incredibly, unbelievably wholesome family!
Emmett wrapped an arm around Bill’s shoulders and turned him toward his assistant, Darla, who would be happy to take down details and welcome him into the cabal.
Cain looked away. At a certain point, he couldn’t stand to watch the bloodbath anymore. Beneath the sleeve of his tailored charcoal suit and blue dress shirt, Cain could swear he felt his tattoo - the forbidden, secret ink he’d gotten in a Fireball-induced rebellion months ago and had hidden zealously ever since - pulse hotly against his skin like a caged creature trying to break free.
Not long ago - a mere three months, though it seemed like it had been in another lifetime - it wouldn’t have been Darla standing at the senator’s side, but Jack Peabody.
Jack, Senator Shaw’s most trusted right-hand-man.
Jack, the man who’d committed murder at the senator’s behest, tampering with the engine of Levi Seaver’s private plane and setting up Damon Fitzpatrick to take the fall for the crash.
Jack, Cain’s former lover.
Now there was a pair of secrets Gary North would give his left nut to reveal, he thought, glancing back at the reporter who was still eyeing him.
It was a sad irony that Cain suspected which of those sins would be most damning in the eyes of the Family Ethics people, and it wasn’t the murder.
Senator Shaw had killed his own best friend - a betrayal so heinous Cain could still hardly believe it, despite having accidentally overheard Jack’s confession with his own ears, along with Cam Seaver and the pilot Jack had framed for his crime, the very-gorgeous and very-much-alive Damon Fitzpatrick.
And still, the moral code of Emmett Shaw and his Family Ethics cronies was crystal clear. Three amazing people dead, a dozen or more lives destroyed, but by God, no dicks touching. The Senator Shaw would have been lucky to get a job washing William’s luxury imports if that truth had come out.
Fortunately for his father’s political career, the truth had been buried six feet under… and so had Jack, killed in prison before he could testify.
Cain’s fingers clenched into a fist, and he was positive that he’d come out of his own skin if he had to stand in that spot a minute longer. He checked his smile to make sure it was firmly in place, and bent to whisper in his mother’s ear. “I’ll be back.”
Lucy, who’d been watching the shakedown of William Fassbender excitedly, turned to look at him. “Where are you going?” she demanded.
“Bar. Again.” He shrugged helplessly. “It’s dry in here.”
She pursed her lips. “You know what we discussed. No alcohol. This is not the time for you to indulge in any of your questionable behavior.”
Cain felt rage gnawing a hole in his gut. He was twenty four years old. It had been months since he’d touched a drop, and that had been his decision, completely unrelated to his father’s campaign. Still, he didn’t allow his smile to slip. “Only water,” he said brittlely.
“Fine. Five minutes,” she warned, like he needed her fucking permission.
Then again, who could blame her for thinking that way when he’d fallen in li
ne with every other ridiculous dictate and demand his parents had laid down recently? He hadn’t balked when he’d been told he’d be taking a semester off law school - perhaps not surprising, since he’d only chosen law as the path of least resistance in the first place, and didn’t give two shits about missing a semester. But then he’d been told he’d be coming on this months-long campaign tour, raising the senator’s national profile in preparation for his possible presidential run. Surely his mother had to have been suspicious when he agreed to that, since he made no bones about the fact that he considered small-talk to be Saw-style psychological torture.
He wondered if his father had ever explained to his mother exactly how he’d ensured Cain’s compliance, or if it was just another of Senator Shaw’s many secrets.
Maybe his mother thought it was his weak nature that had him agreeing to all this bullshit.
Cain was pretty sure that’s what Cam and Sebastian Seaver had thought when he’d told them he wouldn’t be going to the authorities about the crimes Jack had confessed to.
“Cain,” a voice said as he approached the bar, and he turned to find Drew McMann, wearing an immaculately cut suit and his trademark wry grin. Cain smiled, and Drew embraced him like a brother. He and Drew had never been close when they were growing up, despite traveling in the same circles and having parents who were close friends. Funny how adversity and kept secrets had a way of binding people together even more tightly than shared history.
“Hey,” Cain returned, before asking the bartender for another water and adding a hefty tip to the glass on the counter. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
Drew lifted his chin in acknowledgment.
“Not my idea. My mother’s.” Drew shrugged as though this were explanation enough, and Cain nodded because Mary-Alice McMann and Lucy Shaw had been cut from the same cloth.
“How’s everyone? Seen Bas and Cam?” Cain asked. He winced internally. Yeah, bring up Cam Seaver, who dumped Drew just a few months before getting a new boyfriend. Smooth, Shaw.
