by T. R. Graves
* * *
Barone's MicroChopper landed on the roof of our house. My parents found me in my room and, despite my protests, insisted I follow them up there to meet our nation's president, my father's childhood best friend, the man my father spent his work days protecting, and the man my mother handed her life's research over to.
Barone gave my father the perfunctory handshake and my mother an obligatory kiss on the cheek. But me, he pulled me into a bear hug that when coupled with a kiss near my mouth—instead of solidly on my cheek—felt entirely too intimate. It made me uncomfortable, and I felt dirty, as if I'd somehow done something that drew him to me.
The fact was I'd gone out of my way to avoid him and his eye contact at all times. Like always, I hid behind my parents as much as I could, stayed within the confines of their personal space, and wiggled away from his hugs, kisses, and accidental touches.
With this particular visit and as if planned, our house was empty except for my mom and dad, and Dad was actually on his way out of town, as ordered by Barone himself. As soon as he arrived, he told Dad that his MicroChopper was going to take him to the airport before it returned for him.
I could still recall the gratitude in Dad's eyes. He couldn't believe how thoughtful our president was by allowing him to use the Presidential MicroChopper, the official Air Force One, and dashed from the roof to get his luggage, returning in no time flat.
I never wanted Dad to go on business trips, but in this particular case, I was even more disappointed because it left only Mom and me with President Barone. One person to shield me from the watchful eyes. Worrying me even more was the fact that my shield was my mother, a woman who was only perceptive if there was the tiniest variation in a research protocol or result. With those abnormalities, she'd microscopically notice everything associated with the deviation. When it came to human nature, she was naïvely—willfully—ignorant. She trusted Barone. I didn't.
I suspected she'd insist I was making a mountain out of a molehill if I tried to tell her he made me uncomfortable. As if I'd just turned back into a three-year-old, I shoved my hand in hers and hoped she understood I needed her to stick with me while Barone was around.
She glanced over at me and said, "What's gotten into you? Your dad will be back before you know it."
I nodded and let her think my mood change had everything to do with me missing Dad. After the MicroChopper was gone, Barone insisted we get out of the cool night air and retire to the study, where he could build a fire and have some of Gran's infamous lab-distilled brandy.
As always, Mom was eager to please our president. "Absolutely, John."
I was sickened when she let go of my hand, grabbed Barone's elbow, and hugged into it like he was her best friend rather than my father's.
"You and I haven't talked without Sam for years. Who are you dating now?" she asked with a schoolgirl giggle.
He glanced over at me and Mom and said, "Sam has to himself the only woman beautiful and intelligent enough to get me out of the world of politics, Selma. I've told you that a million times."
She playfully slapped his arm. "And, I've known every one of those times that you were lying to me. There's someone you're seeing. I feel it. I just don't know why you won't tell us who she is. It's not as if we'd share your secrets with the world."
By then, we'd made it to the study. As if he lived there, Barone walked over to the fireplace and began stacking the wood high. He meant for the fire to burn long and hot.
"Selma, you'll be first to know if there's ever a woman besides you in my life," Barone said, looking over at me in a way that felt as intimate as the earlier hug.
I glanced away.
"John, it looks like we're out of Gran's brandy. Let me see if there's some in the kitchen," Mom said, heading toward the door of the study.
I jumped into action. "I'll go check, Mom. You visit with President Barone."
Focused on her mission, Mom shook her head. "No. I need to look. I might even have to go over to the lab, and you can't get in there without me because of the security."
There was a smile on Barone's face that told me he was thrilled he and I were going to be alone together. Finally.
After she left, I kept my back to the wall, hugging it like I was attached to it, until Barone walked over to me and put his hand out. "There's no reason for you to be afraid of me, Carlie. I'm the last person in the world who'll hurt you."
Without options and knowing better than to offend our guest, I took Barone's hand and let him lead me over to the settee in front of the fire. The seat was barely big enough for the two of us, and he took advantage of the tight space by edging up closer than necessary, putting his arm behind me, and letting his hand drop down to my shoulder.
"Carlie, your father tells me you'll one day be as brilliant a researcher as your mother. That's truly a compliment coming from him," Barone said, leaning into me as if he were telling me a secret only he and I could hear.
I shrugged and made a point of not saying anything. It had more to do with the way he terrified me than my not having anything to offer to the discussion.
"You're always so shy around me. I go out of my way to bring you things that will let you know how I feel about you, to let you know how special you are to me. Still, you hide behind your parents like I'm going to hurt you. Even now, you're trembling as if you were trapped in a cave with a wild animal. Is that how you think of me, Carlie? Do you think I'd ever hurt you?" Barone asked.
His face was so close to my neck that the whisper of his words brushed across my skin and made me tremble even more.
I stared at my wringing hands and prayed Mom would return soon. "No, sir. I-I know you wouldn't hurt me." I lied.
Barone put his fingers under my chin and gently tugged until I was looking him in the face. "Good, because I won't ever hurt you. Not you. Not ever. Now talk to me about your plans. I know the throw down plans about going to the preparatory academy when you're seventeen, and I know you want to be a researcher like Selma and Peter. What I don't know is what you want to specialize in, what you want for your future. I want to know everything there is to know about you, my special little girl."
There was an inappropriate longing—to know me, to know my plans—that had me stuttering. "I-I'm not sure yet. Mom says I'll know what I want to specialize in after I've had a chance to work in a lab with other people. Sh-she thinks I focus too much on her work… that I-I need to work with other researchers so I'll really know if genetics is what I want to spend my life researching."
Barone pulled me closer and kissed my forehead before pushing me back and making me look him in the face again. "You silly little girl. You're still afraid of me. What can I do to change that? Shall I whisk you away from your parents and make you come live with me so you'll realize I'm not the monster you make me out to be in your head?"
I shook my head a little too fiercely. "No. I'm not afraid of you. I-I'm not ready to leave my parents. Please don't do that. Please," I begged.
I may have been young, but I knew enough about the world to understand if Barone wanted to take me away and do whatever he wanted with me, my parents wouldn't be able to say a word. They would have to go along with whatever he wanted, or he would have them killed. I knew that as surely as I knew the man next to me wanted more from me than I'd ever be prepared to give him.
"Shh!" He hugged me tight. "I'm not going to take you from your parents. I just want you to agree to spend more time with me. I want you to consider that you might one day be more than a scientist… that you might one day be the wife of the president. You could use that position to make a real change," Barone said wistfully.
Words failed me, but clearly Barone was looking for a response. "Do you not have anything to say to me? I just offered to one day make you my wife… to one day give you a piece of everything I own. All I'm asking from you is the chance to father your children."
His grip on my chin tightened, and I knew there was no way to get away from him w
ithout saying something.
"President Barone… I-I don't know what to say. I-I've never thought of myself as married, much less as a mother. I think I need a few years to think this over. I'm not even seventeen, and I've never been kissed by a boy, I-I-I…" I was rambling when my words were cut off by Barone's kiss. Not a boy's kiss. Barone's kiss.
Because my mouth was open when he kissed me, he was easily able to slide in his tongue, giving me a firsthand lesson on open-mouthed kissing. He wasn't rough or controlling or demanding. If I were being honest, he was more sweet and gentle. It was as if he were afraid anything more would frighten me, and that was the last thing he was trying to do.
I was too surprised to fight back. Instead, I let him do whatever he wanted. In his mind, my lack of struggle meant acquiescence, so he deepened his kiss, pulling me into him, cupping the back of my head in one hand and sliding his other hand up the back of my shirt.
He didn't pull away from me, and I didn't pull away from him until we heard noises down the hall. With the slamming of a door, he scooted away from me and said, "Th-that kiss must remain a secret between just the two of us, Carlie. Do you understand me?"
He was as hoarse and breathless as I was scared. All I could do was nod. What I wanted to do was run as fast and far from the study as I could. I wanted to go to my room and scream into my pillow. I wanted to scrub my skin and brush my teeth for hours. Afraid of what offending the president would mean to my family, I didn't do anything but sit stunned next to him.
Right before Mom rejoined us, Barone shocked me once again when he leaned into my ear and whispered, "I've never been so excited when kissing a woman, Carlie."
Then he took my hand and touched it to his crotch. The hardness there barely registered because the instant I realized what he'd done and where my hand was, I jerked it back and shoved them both between my thighs.
"You think I won't go in there and grab those out? In fact, nothing would please me more, my future wife," he said.
I knew then… I know now… I could run from him, but I could never hide.
