by Stasia Black
He grinned, basking in her confused excitement. “All the wind farms in this part of the state. When the wind is up, it is enough to power the grid to the city. President Goddard had all the power stations that were blown on D-Day repaired around the Fort Worth grid and voilà.” He gestured around them, pushing open the door when the van pulled in front of the hotel, holding out a hand for Shay.
The van with Clan Hale pulled in behind them and Sophia, the Commander, and that outspoken woman, Drea, were just getting out of the car in front of them.
Shay stepped out of the van and then hurried to the edge of the covered drive, ignoring the line of armed guards who went on alert at the sudden movement.
“Shay,” Henry called, along with Rafe and Charlie.
She stopped at the line of shrubs before heading into the street, mouth dropping open again as she looked around. While some of the downtown buildings were completely dark, there were a fair number that were just as lit up as the Omni. “It’s incredible,” she whispered.
Charlie’s eyes narrowed as he followed her gaze. “It’s a waste. If they repaired the grid here, why haven’t they repaired it further south and shared the power?”
Henry could have punched the bastard for ruining Shay’s moment. If he were prone to such brutish methods, that was.
But still, he was tempted, because Shay’s obvious awe dimmed as she turned to Charlie. “Oh. I didn’t even think of that.”
“If you’ll all please come this way,” said a man in a suit with a clipboard, eyeing all of them nervously. “There’s an extensive security screening and the sooner we get through with it, the sooner you can get to dinner. The president hates to be kept waiting for his dinner.”
Henry barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He just bet. He’d only visited with Goddard a few times in the past five years, and each time the man’s waistline had expanded exponentially.
The President Goddard of today was a far cry from the hard-nosed General who’d had the command and respect of enough Army and Marine battalions to declare himself president and unite the country after D-Day.
But that was the way of politics, right? Ideals rarely stood the test of time against unlimited money and power.
“Come on, lovely,” Henry said, putting his hand to the small of Shay’s back. “I want to show you our rooms.”
Each clan had one of the premiere suites for their stay, second only to the President’s penthouse apartments.
Sophia came bounding up to Shay and grabbed her hands. “It’s so exciting, isn’t it?”
Shay smiled and held onto Sophia while Sophia did a little bouncing dance up and down. She only stilled, the smile dying on her face when she looked over Shay’s shoulder and saw Henry standing there.
“Oh. Hi.”
“Hello, Sophia. How was the ride?”
“Fine. Just fine.” She tried for a smile but ended up just looking miserable as she gave Shay’s hands one last squeeze before spinning and going back to her dad.
Shay turned back to Henry, a furrow growing between her brows. But Henry just pulled her close and kissed her temple before urging her up the stairs and into the hotel.
The security screening was intensive.
Just short of a damn cavity search.
Every bag was sifted through and they were patted down. And up. And down again. At least they had a female guard to pat down the women, but still.
“Is this really necessary?” Charlie asked in exasperation as one of the guards felt up the inner seam of his pants.
Henry tried to shake his head at him but it was too late.
The guards passed a look between them and Charlie was pulled out of the group and taken to a back room where Henry knew he’d be required to strip completely, bend over, and well, spread ‘em.
President Goddard was nothing if not thorough when it came to his safety.
He had reason to be. There had been no less than seven attempts on his life, two in the past year alone.
He was notoriously paranoid because of it. He had tasters try all of his food before he ate a morsel, was rarely seen in public, and conducted almost all his business right here at the Omni where he could control the environment.
Henry could respect the man’s dedication to safety even if the thought of it made Henry chafe. While he was all for success, he never wanted it at such a high cost. He was happy to stick to working off to the side of greater men, arranging side deals and taking care of the details that really made empires run. While enjoying his freedom and all the perks of the job, naturally.
He looked across the lobby to where Shay and Sophia were talking and laughing. Especially if he could share some of those perks with Shay.
He was still smiling as the guard handed him back his briefcase and bag.
He wanted to show Shay the time of her life tonight. Because while the President was a paranoid shut-in, he also settled for nothing less than the best when it came to food and drink.
And after the cornmeal and bean mush that was their main staple broken up by the occasional bit of meat or vegetables, Henry was certainly ready for some fine dining.
And wine. God, he’d kill for a perfect glass of Chablis. Which he just happened to know was the President’s favorite, since he was always on the lookout for a case everywhere he went trading. He also just happened to have brought two cases that he’d saved up especially for this occasion.
He got them a few months ago for a couple pounds of Jonas’s lousiest bud. The dumb fucks who traded it didn’t realize the priceless gem they had on their hands. Apparently they’d opened a bottle, decided it tasted like ‘goat piss’ to use their colorful colloquialism, and brought it to the San Angelo black market. He shook his head at the memory. The lack of culture in their foundling little country truly boggled the mind.
But tonight, Henry would show Shay all that was possible.
Chapter 26
RAFE
Rafe tugged at the collar of the stiff button up shirt Henry had insisted he wear. He didn’t see the point. It wasn’t like the President was fucking royalty or anything.
They were all sitting around the biggest table Rafe had ever seen in his whole goddamn life—his clan, Clan Hale, the Commander, his daughter, Drea, and a bunch of other people he didn’t recognize.
A waiter came around pouring wine into champagne glasses with stems so skinny Rafe was sure it would snap under his grip if he even looked at the damn thing too hard.
Why couldn’t they have some beer anyway? This bastard was supposed to be the richest guy in Texas, right? So couldn’t he have at least taken drink orders. Who the fuck liked fucking wine?
“I would like to make a toast,” Henry said, lifting the wine glass with his fingers around the tiny ass stem. “To our president. Who fashioned this great country out of chaos and gave us a legacy worth defending.”
Rafe switched his attention to the fat man at the head of the long table. He smiled and lifted his glass, clutching it the globe in his ham fist. “To me,” he chuckled, and the three women on either side of him giggled and raised their glasses.
Rafe glared and didn’t touch his glass.
He’d always respected President Goddard. Or General Goddard, as he’d always thought of the man, like most of his fellow Elite Guard did.
Rafe had only seen General Goddard a few times when he was stationed at Fort Worth before The Fall, but he’d been intimidating. The General had been in his late forties at the time. Iron gray hair. Stern demeanor. Always barking orders. He was infamously tough and exacting, but he was famous for always looking out for his troops. Or so the rumors went. Rumors that became legend and then a rallying cry after The Fall.
Just went to show how fucking green Rafe had been at the time. Cause it was hard to imagine this motherfucker as anything other than a little bitch.
He was fat, red-faced, and his three so-called girlfriends he had hanging all over him were so obviously just short of paid whores it was fucking em
barrassing.
Rafe glanced across the table to Shay.
She looked just as uncomfortable as Rafe felt.
Which just pissed him off.
Why the hell hadn’t Henry warned them this was what they’d be walking into? But when Rafe looked over to Henry, he was just smiling like nothing was the matter?
Was this the kind of shit he did on a regular basis? Hobnob or whatever the hell you called this, with fat, entitled pricks who wouldn’t know hard work if it punched them in the face?
“So, sir, one of the reasons you asked us here was so we could talk about the possibility of expanding the marriage lottery policy on a wider basis. Here we have two clans, Clan Hale, headed by our illustrious Security Squadron Captain, Phoenix Hale over there. Give us a wave, Phoenix.”
Nix glowered, looking as amused as Rafe felt, and inched his hand up from the table briefly before dropping it again.
“And Clan Cole,” Henry continued, again either oblivious to the tension in the room or pretending to be, “which I have the honor of heading. Every time a lovely young lady joins Central Texas South, a lottery is held to determine what lucky lads will win her hand in marriage.”
President Goddard scoffed, downing his glass of wine and either not realizing that some had spilled out the side of his mouth onto the white of his tux shirt or simply not caring. He slammed the wine glass so hard on the table Rafe was surprised the damn thing didn’t shatter.
“See now, what I’d find interesting was if it was a lottery for five women to one man.” He broke out in a fit of wheezing laughter and his three girlfriends tittered along with him. “Am I right?” he waved to the rest of the table.
Only Henry chuckled along with him.
“Yes, sir. Well, that would be something. But since the world’s short on women these days, really the other way does make more sense.”
The president waved his hand. “I don’t know. I like to reward industriousness. I think Fort Worth’s system might work just fine for the time be.”
“And what system is that?” Drea asked. Then, obviously speaking through gritted teeth, she added, “Sir.”
The president cocked his head sideways at her. “Well aren’t you a pretty thing? I’ve always had a soft spot for blondes.” He winked at Drea and his girlfriends, two of whom were blonde, giggled.
Aw shit. Rafe didn’t know Drea that well, but even he could see the steam coming out of her ears.
She took a deep breath in and out before responding tightly. “So. You were saying. Your policy here? For women?”
“Oh that.” Goddard waved a hand. “It’s simple really. Men who are industrious and provide goods and services that benefit the city and the government are rewarded.”
Drea’s nostrils flared. “And— The women—” Every word sounded like it was being choked out. She took another deep breath. “They’re the rewards?”
The president was busy waving the waiter over for more wine and only seemed to be halfway paying attention to Drea. He waved a hand again. “Something like that. It’s in their interest, too. Who wouldn’t want to be with the wealthiest men in town? It’s good for everyone.”
He took another long swig of wine before clapping as a line of waiters brought out plates piled high with food.
“Oh look, our feast begins.”
“So the women don’t get any choice,” Drea said, all but talking over the President. “They’re just assigned to some man. Because he’s rich.”
“Drea,” the Commander said in a low tone. “I’m sure we don’t want to—”
“Okay…” She took a breath, obviously trying to get herself under control. “Well, I came here for another matter. I’d like to ask your permission to head a mission to rescue the women being held against their will at what was previously Nomansland island.” Drea never moved her hawkish gaze from the President, even though he was full on frowning at her now, clearly displeased.
Aw damn. Rafe wasn’t big on diplomacy and shit, but even he could see this was going nowhere fast.
The Commander started to wave his hand again but Drea just plowed on. “The women are being held in inhospitable conditions, being repeatedly raped until they’re sold off as slaves. If they survive long enough, that is.”
President Goddard continued frowning, though now he was looking around, accepting the plate of food his waiter handed him and shoving it in front of the one non-blonde girlfriend. Then he settled his napkin in his lap. He took another gulp of wine and waved for another refill. He was basically doing anything to avoid even glancing Drea’s way.
“It wouldn’t take many resources. Central Texas South’s Security Squadron would be more than enough. If we just had one mid-size plane, we could easily overwhelm Bautista’s defenses and—”
“Enough!” Goddard roared, finally looking at Drea. “I’m trying to enjoy a meal here.”
Drea blinked, obviously stunned by the outburst.
“Drea,” the Commander warned in a low tone. “Don’t. You promised—”
“Women are being raped. Right now,” Drea hissed, throwing down her napkin. “While you enjoy your fucking wine and antipasto.”
“Drea,” the Commander snapped, pushing his chair back.
But it was too late.
President Goddard snapped his fingers and just like that, guards materialized from where they’d been stationed in the corners of the room.
“I will not be talked to like that in my own home.”
The guards converged on Drea’s chair and were dragging her up and backwards.
“Drea!” Sophia yelped before her dad put a warning hand on her forearm and shook his head. She looked like she was going to ignore him and run after her friend but something in his look must have stopped her because, though her jaw went hard, she stayed seated and stared down at the steak and mashed potatoes on her plate.
Rafe’s eyes shifted to Shay. Shit. He hoped she wasn’t thinking of doing anything reckless either.
But while her eyes were wide and her knuckles were white as she clutched her fork and knife, she didn’t so much as make a peep.
Rafe didn’t miss the way her hands shook as she lifted them to try to cut her steak.
Charlie reached over and murmured, “Here, let me.” She looked at him gratefully and dropped her hands to her lap while he cut her steak.
And Rafe glared at Henry, only somewhat gratified to see that he too looked taken aback by what had just happened. Henry’s eyes were locked on Shay, which again, made Rafe feel less like punching the bastard.
“Well, at least the one good thing about there being less women around is that there’s less bitching to deal with, am I right?” the President chuckled.
Only his girlfriends laughed with him. He was too busy grabbing his plate from the girlfriend who was his taster to notice, though. As he cut off a large hunk of steak and shoved it into his mouth, he looked toward the Commander. “So, Eric. it really has been too long since I’ve seen you. And little Sophie. Not so little anymore.” He laughed and grabbed his napkin to wipe sloppily at his mouth, missing some gravy that had dripped down his chin. “I’m so glad you brought her like I asked.”
Asked. More like ordered, Rafe bet. Looking at how tense the Commander was, he couldn’t imagine there was any way he’d have brought Sophia here voluntarily. As a lowly Scrapper, Rafe didn’t have much to do with the Commander of a whole territory, but everyone knew the Commander worshipped the ground his daughter walked on.
One time a guy new to town whistled at her when she was walking down the street and the next day, the guy was thrown out of town on his ass, face black and blue.
Nobody fucked with the Commander’s daughter.
But if the President tried something? Rafe’s hand slid under the table to his belt out of habit. But of course his knife wasn’t there. All their weapons had been removed downstairs.
“I thought your own daughter might be here. Sophia’s always wanted to meet her.”
G
oddard’s face darkened. “Abigail is…Well, she just doesn’t understand that a man of my position is entitled to certain,” he let out an annoyed huff and then smiled and grabbed one of his girlfriend’s hands, “rewards for my long years of service.”
He grinned lasciviously at one of the blondes and Rafe was almost put off his steak. Almost.
Goddard gave a long chuckle, waving a fork in the Commander’s direction. “I still think about our last stand at Texarkana, you know. You and your battalion saved my ass. I’m not too proud to admit it.”
“I was happy to serve, sir,” the Commander said.
“Those Southern Alliance bastards thought they could take us with those cannons but they didn’t know we had that huge fucking stockpile of RPGs or that almost all the Oklahoma boys had defected to our side.”
He laughed a wheezing laugh as he shoved a huge bite of steak in his mouth. Then he turned to his girlfriends. “You shoulda seen the way those chickens ran. They were exploding left and right. Boom!” he made an explosion motion with his hands, bits of food flying out of his mouth as he continued speaking. “Boom!”
The Commander pushed his plate slightly away from him, setting his silverware down. “It was certainly a bloody day.”
“I know,” Goddard said, sawing into his steak that had been cooked so rare, red pooled all over the plate.
Rafe had to keep his gaze steadfastly away from the repulsive president in order to get his own steak down. It was hard to imagine that man had ever known a day of discipline in his whole damn life.
Still, he couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder in the direction they’d taken Drea and, if he wasn’t imagining things, thought he caught the Commander doing the same. This shit was fucked.
“When do I get my present? I’ve heard so much about this new famous artist from Jacob’s Well. Finding the next great artist of the new era is just what the country needs. We’ve got to prove to the common folk that we’re just as sophisticated as the old US of A, and nothing says sophistication like the arts. Am I right, my beauties?” He looked to the fawning girls and they simpered in agreement.
