This time when the tears hit, I don’t try to hold them back. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring her home, Case.” Next thing I know, she’s taking the mug from me again, setting it on the counter, and pulling me into her arms.
She goes with me when I collapse to my knees, sobbing, the grief and pain rolling out of me, everything I’ve struggled to keep back all this time. She’s holding me, rocking me, her face buried in my hair as I scream, and scream, until I ruin my voice and I’m left wordlessly gasping, my breath hitching.
“I…I gave her the window seat,” I sob. “She asked to sit by the window, and I let her. If I’d taken the window like I’d wanted to, so I could take a nap, she’d be alive. But she was my good girl, and she’d had so much fun during the trip. She was so happy. I couldn’t say no to her. If I’d just said no to her, she’d still be alive. It’s all my fault. It’s my fault she’s dead, Case. She’d be alive if I’d just said no.”
“No, George, she wouldn’t, honey. She probably wouldn’t have survived, between losing you and trying to get out of the airplane. She wouldn’t have made it if she lost you. We would’ve lost both of you.”
“I’m so sorry, Case. I promised you I’d take care of her, and I didn’t.”
“It’s okay, sweetie. This wasn’t your fault.”
I finally rip the wound open and let the pus and pain and failure pour out. “I promised to take care of your bestie, and I didn’t. How can you even stand me now, much less share Declan with me?”
I cry, and I don’t know how long we sit there on my kitchen floor, a kitchen that still feels like Ellen, even two years later. She’s…everywhere.
Everywhere.
Not just around me, but in my heart, in my soul.
She really was the perfect woman for me. Maybe that’s why this is working with Declan—because it’s harder for me to compare him to Ellen. He’s like a skeleton key—not an exact replica, but hitting all the important parts in the right ways so that he could turn the lock and open it.
“She wasn’t just my bestie. There was something we never told you.”
“What?” I sniffle.
She cups my face in her hands again and makes me look her in the eyes. “Ellen was faithful to you. But you know how when you first started dating her, I used to poke at you and accuse you of stealing my bestie?”
I sniffle again. “Yeah?”
“And you know how she told you she’d fooled around some with others before she met you, but she’d never had intercourse with a guy?”
“Yeah?”
The sorrow filling her eyes threatens to crush me under its weight.
She sighs. “Honey, I wasn’t completely honest with you that morning in the utility room when you confronted me about what Dec said. You were sort of right about why Declan and Ellen said the same stuff, but not for the reasons you were thinking. Ellen and I weren’t just friends and roommates when you met her. When she met you, she was my girlfriend and my slave. We were both bi. She was terrified of her family cutting her off if they found out. We’d been together nearly two years when she met you.”
Another weighty sigh escapes her. Her next words crush me. “You didn’t steal my bestie, George. You stole my girlfriend, my slave, the love of my life. The worst part is, I tried to hate you and I couldn’t, because you were so damn…nice. You made her happy. She loved you to the moon and back and then some. You treated her like a princess, you gave her children, you literally made every last one of her dreams come true. You did things for her I knew I never could, made her feel things I knew she couldn’t feel for me.
“I always knew she’d meet a guy one day and leave me, because that was the deal between us. She wanted kids, wanted to be a mom, and I didn’t. But I never could move on, no matter how hard I tried. That’s why I’ve never had a steady boyfriend until I met Declan and got involved with him. I couldn’t find anyone who made me feel the way she made me feel, or anyone who’d put up with me the way he does.”
A sad smile from her this time. “But what does it say about her, that she was so special she had two people who unconditionally loved her the way you and I did?” She takes a deep breath. “And now it looks like you’ve nearly succeeded in taking away the first person I’ve met since her who I’d finally fallen in love with.”
I stare at her, processing her admission. Guilt slams into me as I see my entire adult life—my marriage, my friendship with Case—in an entirely new perspective. Things I never really thought about before make perfect sense now.
It makes me cry again, even harder than before.
The additional guilt shredding my soul.
I did the one thing I promised I’d never do to her, and worse, I’m doing it again.
She wraps her arms around me and holds me as I break down in her arms. I’m absolutely…gutted.
“How can you not hate me?” I ask when I find my voice again. We’re still on the kitchen floor, and I ended up with my head in her lap.
She leans in and kisses my forehead. “Because you’re family, George. You’re my family, and I love you. You and the kids. I’d be shitting on my girl’s memory and my love for her if I turned my back on you just because of the past. My girl loved you. You were the love of her life, not me. You took good care of her and made her happy. I couldn’t have asked for more than that. This is why you have to promise me to try,” she adds, choking up. “Please. I don’t want to walk away from you, but I have to protect Declan. Personally and professionally.”
“I’ll agree to whatever you say.” That’s not something I say lightly, because, hellooo, control freak.
She sighs. “Then we’ll figure this out, sweetie,” she promises. “We will.”
I close my eyes and let her hold me, giving over what I can in this moment.
Because if I lose her and Declan?
Then I will not want to live. I’m not strong enough to lose them, because I’ve lost too much already. It feels like maybe, with their help, I can finally begin the process of finding myself and discovering who I really am in this cold new world without my girl.
Maybe I can stitch myself back together and mend my soul instead of deliberately edging one foot closer to the grave on a daily basis.
“What do we do now?” I hoarsely ask.
She plays with my hair. “Now?” She pauses while she gathers her thoughts. I don’t interrupt. “Now we have a motherfucking election to win. Because you’re the best damn governor our state has had in over sixty years, and we need you to win. My girl had faith in you, so I have faith in you.”
She stares down into my eyes. “My question is, do you trust me? Are you in? Do we go kick ass and try to get everything done that was on our girl’s wish list? Or do we withdraw from the election, and at the end of this term we go back to practicing law and sharing Declan as a chew toy? I’m in if you are. It’s your call.”
Around me swirls a tempest.
A plane.
The screams.
The wind.
Except for this little island of emotional safety in a sea of despair, with her and Declan.
Here, I have finally found…peace.
I picture my girl’s face and remember her smiling at me at dinner the night before she died, after Ed Willis and John Stinson and their wives both left the table to head up to their rooms.
The thing my girl said to me once they were gone.
The pride and passion in her voice, in her gaze, as she smiled at me and leaned in so no one would overhear us.
“You’ll be a thousand times the governor he is, Sir.”
I meet Casey’s gaze and nod. “I’m in.”
The End
http://www.LesliRichardson.com
George, Declan, and Casey-Marie’s story continues in Solace (Devastation Trilogy 2) and Release (Devastation Trilogy 3).
Preview: Solace (Devastation Trilogy 2)
The following is a preview from Solace (Devastation Trilogy 2) by Lesli Richardson.
Des
cription
He doesn’t know how to give in…
I’m in way over my head. I’m waiting for someone to point a finger at me and call me an imposter.
I don’t belong here.
Yet I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.
I don’t know what the hell this is between us, but even while I hate it, I crave it, like a damn drug.
I need it.
I need them.
And I’ll do whatever it takes to stay here, even if it means giving up who I am.
* * * *
Chapter One
My name is Declan Ronald Howard. I’m twenty-nine years old, have a law degree, and my official job title and duties for the past two years are deputy chief of staff to the governor of Tennessee.
My unofficial job now can basically be summed up as fucktoy for both the governor, and for his long-time friend and chief of staff, Casey-Marie Blaine.
By day, I’m quickly mastering how to work my way through the machinations of our state government’s particular—some would say peculiar—way of doing things.
By night, I’m either on my knees—or hands and knees, or back—doing peculiar things for George Forrester.
When I’m not doing them for Casey-Marie—who’s also my direct-report boss—and doing my best to keep her satisfied.
Relationship status?
Complicated.
Which is a massive understatement.
Workplace harassment? Sexual harassment?
Oh, we’re waaay beyond that. We left that in the dust about a hundred miles behind us.
That was not a complaint, if you were wondering.
I don’t honestly know what I’m feeling about it all.
That I’m not fighting any of this, and that I’m even craving some of it—okay, most of it—confuses the hell out of me.
For starters, I’m straight.
At least, before all this started, I would have insisted I’m straight.
So how did I get…here?
I can’t answer that, because it wasn’t a straight line.
No pun intended.
But the turning point was the night a few weeks ago when Casey decided to take me in hand in her office instead of waiting to go someplace private, and George walked in on us.
Want to know something else?
I’m nearly certain she did it deliberately. That she staged it that way. There’s some sort of weird emotional dance going on between the two of them, George and Casey. Like neither of them can admit it to the other and, somehow, I’ve become the chew toy between these two Alpha dogs. A chew toy that they use to make love through.
Okay, maybe not making love, because it’d be more like rage sex.
They leave angry, secret love notes to each other in my flesh.
Everything tells me this is a dangerous rocket sled straight to disaster, personally, professionally, and politically.
Yet every time I’ve been offered the opportunity to get off the ride…
I’ve chosen to stay.
Begged to stay.
What does that say about me? That I won’t give in or give up?
For most of my life, especially my adult life, I’ve felt like an imposter. A faker. People who supposedly loved me told I’d never be anyone, never do anything worthwhile with my life. Never amount to anything.
That people like me weren’t worthy.
Does the situation I currently find myself in make every horrible thing people have told me…correct?
What else does it say that I have a sinking suspicion the only thing standing between Governor George Forrester and true insanity is…well, me?
Furthermore…
What does it say about me that I’m reluctantly forced to admit I’m not only liking a lot of things I previously never thought I would ever want to try, but that I’m eagerly looking forward to some of them?
Okay, most of them. Fuck.
I certainly accepted this job feeling like an imposter. Like they made a mistake putting any level of trust in me. That by giving me any responsibility meant they were making a huge mistake. I basically took the job because Casey and I were already secretly involved with each other, and she told me I was now her deputy chief of staff.
Now?
Maybe I do hate some of what we do. I hate it when George takes out his anger on me.
I hate that there are things inside him I don’t know if I can help him heal.
I wish he hadn’t lost the love of his life.
But I’m starting to crave…things.
I’m starting to crave Him.
That should fricking terrify the hell out of me, and yet part of me wants it even more because of that terror.
Because despite the terror, there is a level of safety I feel, even if Casey is worried for me and threatens to quit and take me with her.
Months ago, I would have followed her to the ends of the earth and back without hesitation.
Now?
I’m pretty sure if she tried to leave and order me to go with her that I’d have to tell her no. That would also break my heart, because I love her.
What’s more, I don’t want her to leave. I want her to stay—I want to convince her she can trust George, too. Which is weird because they’ve known each other for literally most of my life. George was married to her best friend. He’s seventeen years older than me, and she’s fifteen years older than me.
I know she wants him. I can see the hunger in her eyes when she watches us together.
I can see the desire in his eyes when he watches her with me, or even just at work, when he thinks neither of us are paying attention.
I want the best of both worlds.
I’m a greedy, masochistic slut, apparently.
Except I have a feeling that the pain both of them are wrapped in might destroy all three of us if it’s allowed to get out of hand.
That’s why I have to be careful. I need to figure out how to heal George privately, while publicly pretending he’s only my boss. Especially during his re-election bid for governor.
I can’t be a distraction.
I can’t be anything but his deeply buried dirty secret.
I have to learn how to walk that high-wire, and it’s all on-the-job training.
I cannot fail, because our state needs him.
His children need him.
And Casey needs him, because when Ellen died, Casey lost her best friend.
I need him.
Need, or crave, I’m not sure which.
Maybe both. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.
Either way, I’ll let him seek solace in my flesh, because it’s all I have to give. And I’m not giving in or giving up on him, or on her.
Hopefully we won’t all be consumed by the flames of his insanity in the process.
* * * *
Right now, we’re still a little ways out from the primary election filing deadline. The GOP hasn’t fronted anyone to run against George yet, and no candidates have bucked the state party and stepped up to challenge his assumed incumbency. Which is a damned good thing.
Another reason we have to be so freaking careful. If any hint of impropriety leaks about me and George, he’d be turfed faster than a Vol spiking the ball after a game-winning touchdown pass. George is GOP, but he’s also a RINO—Republican in Name Only.
There’s a lot the public doesn’t know about Tennessee Governor George Forrester.
Like he’s an atheist. That he’s a sadist.
That he dresses left, prefers I keep my eyes open and look up at him while giving him a blowjob in his office, and always has me tuck him in after he’s finished.
That he truly owns me.
That him telling me to lock his office door when he summons me makes me immediately hard, if I’m not already hard.
That it didn’t take long before him summoning me to his office makes me hard, whether or not I knew it was for business or pleasure.
That I’m the first man he ever received
a blowjob from, or fucked, and the only man he’s ever been with.
The way his breath feels against my scalp when we snuggle in his bed after a hard play and fuck session.
How he sounds when he whispers to me while we make love.
All these things and countless others would scandalize the voting public of Tennessee.
Which is why I have to remain his dirty secret.
I honestly think if it were up to him that he’d say fuck it, openly date me, and retire from public life after losing his re-election bid.
Casey, however, would likely wring his neck. Apparently, there were a lot of plans made long before Ellen was killed in the plane crash that nearly killed George, too. Things Ellen wanted to try to achieve as first lady when George eventually became governor.
So many social initiatives they wanted to accomplish, education reform, voter protections, equality guarantees.
This means I’ll remain George’s dirty little secret for the foreseeable future, because he’s dedicated to accomplishing a lot in his wife’s memory.
You know what?
I’m okay with that.
Because there are people in my personal life who’d probably want to hurt or maybe even kill me—or him—if the truth comes out.
* * * *
You can find out more about the Devastation Trilogy, and other standalone trilogies set in the same world, over on my website at:
https://tymberdalton.com/books/series-info/devastation-trilogy/
Preview: Governor (Governor Trilogy 1)
The following is the first chapter from Governor (Governor Trilogy 1, MMF, political romance) by Lesli Richardson.
Meet the Governor…
I kneel for only one man—Carter Wilson, my best friend, chief of staff, and bastard extraordinaire.
It’s a price I willingly pay to be owned by Her.
His wife.
Who is also, as of when we were sworn in this morning, my lieutenant governor.
Dirge (Devastation Trilogy 1) Page 27
