Chapter 11

The next day, Dave Jenkins appeared in Gabe’s office doorway. “You wanted to see me, Gabe?”

“Yeah, Dave. I did. Have a seat.”

The man dropped down into a chair in front of the desk. “The workshop over the weekend was amazing, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. This is the second year, and the event went even better than the last time.”

“The panels were pure genius.”

Gabe nodded in thanks. “Dave, I need to know if you’re going to replace me. I’m due at the White House in mid-December.”

“The answer is yes. I was planning to tell you today.”

Relief surged through Gabe. “Ah, that’s great.” Now he could leave the training center with a clear conscience and not worry if Seth or Marilyn needed more time. “You should start running some exercises while I’m still here. And we should meet with the business manager so you can get a handle on that end.”

“Now, that won’t be my favorite.”

“Not mine, either. I like being in the field.”

“You’re gonna be in the field soon. I have to say, I don’t miss the hours of protective duty.”

Though he’d told Macy he could handle that aspect of the detail, Gabe knew he wouldn’t have the freedom to see them as much as now.

His dad always said, Nothing’s a hundred percent.

After Dave left, he punched in her number. His communication with her this week had been unsatisfactory, and he wanted to see her. It was a little past two, but the trainees had the afternoon off, which meant he did, too.

* * *

Simon walked into the house after school to find his mother sitting on a kitchen stool waiting for him. No surprise there. She made him feel better last night after Gabe left, but he still felt like shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. He repeated the word in his head because he was forbidden to say it.

“Hey, Simon. How was school?”

He mumbled something she wouldn’t hear.

“How are you feeling today?”

His mom always got to the point. Sometimes, he liked that. Not today. “I’m cool. Can I play my video games?”

“Yes, for your half hour after school. But not until we talk about Gabe.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“I do. I gave you enough time for you to iron this out, but it has to be dealt with now.”

Simon’s toe started to tap on the floor.

“He wants to talk to you.”

“Why’d he leave right away that night?”

“I asked him to.” She stared at him the way she always did, like she knew what he was thinking. “You did, too, honey, but you were so upset you might not remember?”

No response. He rubbed his thighs, down to his knees.

“Do you want him out of our lives?”

“He’s gonna be out soon anyway, so what does it matter?”

“He says he’ll be back. He’s keeping his place here in Maryland.”

“You believe him?”

“About what?”

“That he still wants to see us?”

“I do.”

“You still gonna see him then? After he goes to the White House.”

“It doesn’t matter what I do. But for sure, he’ll be there for you.”

“Not for you?”

“No, he includes me in that.” A hesitation. “Gabe cares about you. Not because of me.”

In the last two days, he thought of all the times Gabe had spent with him alone. When he felt Gabe liked him. Could it be true?

“You should at least give him a chance.”

A knock sounded on the back door. He saw Gabe’s outline through the glass. Funny, Simon was glad inside.

* * *

Though Macy was surprised that Gabe would show up before she gave him permission, she said, “You can let him in, Simon. Or not.”

Her son crossed to the door. Opened it. She heard Gabe say, “Hello, Simon. I hope it’s okay I came.”

Simon glared at him.

“Can I come in?”

Simon stepped aside to let Gabe into the house. His presence filled up the whole room, and Macy realized she hadn’t known how much she wanted to see him, have his help with Simon until he arrived.

“Whaddaya want?” Simon slouched against the counter. But because much of the surliness was gone from his tone, Macy felt her shoulders relax.

“I’d like to talk about the other night.”

Simon jammed his hands in his jeans pockets. “I was gonna play Marauders.”

Gabe arched a brow. “Think you can beat me this time?”

“Maybe.”

She loved that Gabe always met Simon where he was.

“Go ahead, I have some things to do in the bar.” She stood. “Have fun.”

Gabe wished Macy had been able to touch him. Show her support some way—but at least she gave him that grateful look. And Simon agreed to see him. That was the first order of business.

He and Simon took seats on the couch across from the TV and each grabbed a control. The game began. Pings and whirs filled the room as they played, and there were choruses of “Good shot” and “Damn it” and “Don’t swear, Simon,” but everything felt normal.

When they finished one level, Simon put his device on the coffee table and stopped playing. He looked down, though, not at Gabe. “Mom says you didn’t pretend to like me.”

“I’ve never, not once, pretended that.”

“Why, Gabe? Nobody likes me very much.”

“That’s not true, Simon. You’ve made a best friend in Joey now, and your teacher sends home weekly reports that say how much better you’re getting along with others this year.”

“We got a new kid. His name is Charles.”

“Yeah?”

“Boy is he bad. Maybe that’s why kids like me better.”

“I think they like you better because you’re trying harder to be nice in school, and that’s your real self, one that doesn’t always show when you get upset.” He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Simon calmed down right away. “Please believe me when I say your mother has nothing to do with us.”

“I guess I do.”

“Okay, then.”

“Will you take me out for pizza?”

“Uh-huh, but it’s not because you said you believe me.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

He stood. “Go ahead and get ready. I want to go say goodbye to your mother.”

“Meet you back here.”

When Gabe stepped into the bar, he saw Macy staring out the front window. Still deserted at 3:00 p.m., the place was quiet. November dreariness eked into the restaurant space and shrouded it in gloom. She seemed…desolate standing there. He felt a surge of need to protect her, to make her happy, to insure that life treated her well from now on. Its force shook him. When he could, he crossed the room. “Mace,” he said quietly so as not to startle her.

She turned to him. “How’d it go?”

“Good, so far. He wants to go for pizza. Guys talk easier to each other when they’re doing something. I thought we might stop at the arcade in town, too. Is that all right with you?”

“Of course, and welcomed. Thank you, Gabe.”

He narrowed his gaze on her. “We have to talk, too, you know.”

“Let’s set a time. Simon’s going to Joey’s tomorrow after school for a play date.”

“I’ll take the afternoon off.”

“I’ll be at your house around noon.”

Closing in on her, he brushed his knuckles down her cheek. Her scent, of lotion that smelled like lilacs, filled his head. “I need to be with you. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” The words came out naturally and Gabe could breathe easier for the first time since last night.

* * *

Desperation! That’s what drove them both the next day when Macy walked into Gabe’s condo. He closed the door with a firm thud. His expression was dark and so sensual she wanted to rip off his clothes.

He approached her. “Something’s pulling at me from the inside.”

She put her hands on his chest, loving how his heart leapt at her touch. “Me, too. I want you.”

He put his hands on her arms, lightly, barely touching her. “It’s so strong, I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“I’m pretty tough.” She leaned her head on his chest and inhaled his scent. A little bit of sweat, and him. “I feel the same thing. Now, stop talking.”

His grasped the hem of her shirt and drew it off her. She noticed his hands were shaking, reveled in his passion. His mouth found her breast and sucked one nipple through the lacy material. Her whole body jolted, and she pressed her groin into his.

“Ah, Macy, baby.”

She got rid of his shirt and explored his chest as he unsnapped the bra. She got his shorts off, but his briefs tangled in his feet. She swore. He laughed and it took him even longer to rid her of her clothes. But soon they were naked.

He encircled her wrist and drew her to the couch, pressed her down, stretched her out. Then he covered her with his body. He was too heavy, but she rejoiced in his weight on her. Their legs entwined as he threaded his hands through her hair. “You are so lovely.”

She eased up, took his mouth so he’d stop talking. When she bit his lip, he said, “Ouch.” She smoothed the nip with her tongue. Finding the contour of his neck, she buried her face there. She was starving and he was her banquet. She was thirsty and only contact with him could quench her parched mouth.

Need made Gabe’s skin itch. He let her do what she wanted as long as he could, enjoying her near irrationality. He was on the precipice himself and finally had to stop her. She looked up at him as he rolled off her onto his back—thank God for wide couches—grabbed a condom from the table where he’d put them earlier and sheathed himself. Side by side, she slid her leg over his and opened up to him. Holding her gaze, he thrust inside her. God, she was wet, slippery. First her eyes widened, then closed and she moaned, long and lustily. The sound sent him over the edge. Grabbing her to him, he thrust again, and again, until she tightened around him and her spasms began.

They erupted together, like a volcano bubbling up and bursting forth with the heat and the need they felt for each other.

* * *

A half hour later, Gabe lazed happily naked on his couch, watching her. She’d gotten up to use the bathroom, and he peered out the window at the light November snowfall clinging to the panes. Then she blocked his view. This one was better. Her hair was a wild mass, her mouth swollen yet…smug. She stood before him unclothed, so he had time to examine her. Her breasts were plump, her hips not too narrow, her thighs muscular but feminine.

“Like what you see?”

“Come closer and I’ll show you.”

Her gaze dropped to his lap. Only minutes after they climaxed so hard he’d shattered and he was already semi-aroused.

“Hmm.” She licked her lips.

“Quit teasing or I’ll come get you.”

“Would you chase me around the house naked?”

He laughed and started off the couch.

She dived onto him, pushed him back down and straddled him. “I want to be in charge.”

“Fine by me.”

“You have to do whatever I tell you.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Smart ass.”

“You like my ass.”

“I do. Very much.”

He cupped hers. “I like yours better.” With that he lifted her up and brought her down on his now-hard penis. She startled.

“Hurt?”

“No, feels terrific.”

“You have to move.”

“Not sure I can.”

“Macy, now, or I’ll take over.”

She started up and down. Up and down. She was driving him crazy. She still had that Jezebel expression on her face, but he had to close his eyes to immerse himself in the pleasure she gave him.

* * *

He dressed her in his T-shirt and donned his briefs. It was best to put on clothes so they could stay away from each other long enough for lunch. They’d been at this a while and Macy was starved. She went to stand by the window, touched the frigid glass.

He opened the refrigerator. “I bought cold stuff.” He glanced over his shoulder and looked so sexy she wondered if eating could wait. “I wanted to give us leeway.”

“Leeway? Hmm, I’ve never heard it called that.” She talked as she took a seat at the counter.

“You’d better stop teasing, or we won’t eat.” Taking out a plate of meat, condiments and potato salad, grabbing bread (which smelled freshly baked), he set everything in front of her. He got plates and glasses, took a bottle of wine from the rack, joined her at the table. “Hmm. My favorite wine.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He uncorked the Cabernet and poured them drinks. His gaze captured hers when he lifted his glass. “To us.”

The drink was tart and full-bodied. “To us.”

After she sipped, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. It was scratchy and she had some brush burns on her body. “I love you so much.”

They ate in silence. It was almost comical how they wolfed the food down, drank the wine and didn’t talk. When they were finished, he insisted she sit as he cleaned up. She agreed because she got a view of that ass encased in tight blue jersey as he bent over the dishwasher. When he returned to the counter, he sat down again and poured more wine. His expression turned serious.

“Let’s get married.”

Shock thundered through her, making her stomach clench. “What?”

He grasped her hand gently. He was relaxed, as if he’d invited her to go to the movies. “Marry me. That’ll solve this once and for all.”

“Solve what?”

“Simon’s issues. Unless I’m reading him totally wrong, he’d love to have me as his dad, and it would be an honor to fill the role.” He frowned, then went on, “And being a family will get rid of you not trusting we can work this out. We’ll be forced to.”

It took her a moment to consider his words. Then her heart tightened in her chest. “You’ve left one thing out. One thing that marriage won’t solve. I already lost one husband to the PPD. I can’t handle losing another.”

He waited for a long time. “Is that an ultimatum?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you saying you’d marry me if I didn’t take this job? The job, I might add, that I’ve waited years to get.”

“Tell me, Gabe, after your divorce, did you wait years to fall in love again?”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It does. And I would guess the answer is yes. So, you waited for both a woman in your life and that job. What I’m asking is which one you’re going to choose.”

“So it is an ultimatum.”

“No, Gabe. It’s a choice. One you have to make.”

“You won’t compromise?”

That made her mad. “You’re not talking about buying a new car or how to save money. You’re asking me to risk again what leveled me the first time. There’s no halfway on your part. At least be honest with yourself about that.”

It hit him like a ton of bricks. She was right. He was asking her to give in to something that all along she said she wouldn’t do. And he had to take the job.

The question now was: where did they go from here?

* * *

For several days, Macy was on automatic pilot. She worked, she took care of Simon and even met with Joanie for lunch. But amidst it all, she kept her feelings in check, refusing to talk about Gabe to her sister, telling Simon nothing was wrong. But something was wrong! How dare he ask her to marry him? He knew what she’d been through with Spike. The frightening, sick-to-your-stomach days when he was guarding a protectee, knowing he could throw himself in front of a bullet anytime he was away. The worst was when she got a glimpse of him on television, like some automaton, ever vigilant. Then there were the black, black days after he was killed. Killed because he chose, he chose, to put himself in the line of fire.

So she threw herself into projects around the house. She was washing up a few dishes in the kitchen when the handle of the faucet broke off. Water shot out of the spout. Macy grabbed for a towel to cover it, but soon the terrycloth was soaked and the flood kept coming. She tried to get the little lever inside to move, but there was too much water. So she raced to the linen closet, dug out a bunch of bath towels and covered the faucet. In minutes, that pile leaked through.

And Macy lost it.

In a rage, she rummaged in the drawer, found a hammer and started hitting the goddamned thing with all her strength.

Now, geysers sprang up. Her arm ached, so she stepped back and promptly fell in the middle of a lake of water on the floor. It splashed up, soaking her from head to toe. She put her hands to her face and sobbed.

The door opened. Still crying, Macy looked up and her sister had come in. After a quick survey of the scene, Joanie rushed to the sink and ducked her head underneath. The water stopped. Of course, there was a shut-off valve. Macy hadn’t remembered that. Joanie dropped to her knees in the water and tugged Macy into her arms. The two of them sat in the puddle while Macy cried herself out.

When she was done, Joanie drew back. “Okay, I haven’t taken a stand on this before, but I’ve got something to say now.”

* * *

In the last few weeks, Macy had become AWOL. Gabe spent time with Simon after school or on weekends, but she’d asked him to leave her alone. Leave her alone! He fucking proposed to her, she rejected him outright and now she was mad? So he’d cooperated, spent time with Simon and hadn’t talked to her except for some everyday cordiality.

Fortunately, he was conducting one of his favorite training exercises, an AOP, an Attack on Principal. He would teach the implementation of the skills with trained agents, most from D.C. Though it was still cold, the snow had stopped. He took them to the Tactical Village, which consisted of several structures next to each other. They were of varying sizes, some two-story, some five, made of brick or stone and took up what might be a regular street. The village had been built precisely for practicing for an attack, like the smoke houses firefighters used to hone their skills.

First to arrive was a Secret Service SUV. Six men and women exited the vehicle. To keep up a somber attitude, they didn’t acknowledge Gabe or the trainees.

“You’ll notice that the agents are wearing two different-colored clothing. The attackers are wearing red.” He added dryly into the mic, “Unfortunately, attackers won’t call attention to themselves like this. You have to determine who they are. They might even dress in suits like regular Secret Service agents in order to confuse you.”

The “gunmen” entered the building, carrying long-range rifles and wearing masks.

“Next comes the presidential motorcade, with only three cars. Usually, there’s more police presence, but this is our first shot at it, so we’re going simple. The middle one is the president’s limo, the Beast.” Specially made with bulletproof everything: windows, sides, bottom, top and wheels, the car also had self-sealing equipment in case a dirty bomb or gas canister was thrown at it.

After the limo arrived, the agents in red appeared on the second and third floors of the building. “Note the location of the attackers in the windows.”

A murmur went through the trainees. The situation was menacing, and even though everybody knew this was a drill, the trainees’ adrenaline would spike.

The motorcade stopped and an agent got out.

“The good guys are in blue.”

One of them opened the door and the “principal” stepped into the street. Flanking the fake president, they took two steps and a blast rang out. Half of the agents surrounded the president and hurried him back into the car. Simultaneously, the rest of them aimed their rifles at the gunmen. They moved as a team, covering each other and shooting at the attackers, who backed away from the windows. Then they all jumped in the Beast and the motorcade sped off.

For effect, Gabe held up his watch. “This attack lasted 19.5 seconds. But that’s a lifetime for the agents on protective.”

The car returned, all the agents got out and the attackers exited the house. The latter whipped off their masks.

When everyone assembled, Gabe said, “Let’s debrief.” He turned to the trainees. “After any incident, this is what happens. We’ll conduct that briefing now so you can see one in action. Then we’ll go step-by-step on procedure. Finally, each of you will take a turn without guns, going through the motions.”

Kilmer asked, “We don’t get to do the whole attack like they did?”

“Not yet, hotshot. Walk-throughs are on the schedule for today. We’ll be practicing this several more times before you leave the training center.”

The briefing lasted another hour, then the agents departed. Gabe spoke to the group. “Now, go home, have a great Thanksgiving and come back ready to finish up.”

Gabe had packed up his stuff and started out when he saw Langston dallying with his gear. Huh! He’d been attentive to the instruction—all of it, lately—but his body language and the gloom on his face told Gabe that something was wrong. He walked over.

“What’s going on, Langston?”

Clay looked at him, then his gaze darted away. “Not in any hurry to go home for Thanksgiving.”

“No?”

“Nah.”

“Why?”

“The pressure.”

Gabe dropped down on a nearby bench. “Sit.” When he did, Gabe said, “If it’s about your training, Clay, you’ve done well. If you keep it up, you’ll pass all your evaluations.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the help with everything.”

“You did it.” No response. “So what’s the problem?”

“My parents are going to interfere. They’ll pull strings. You know who they are.”

“I do. But the Secret Service doesn’t play politics.”

“Director Paulson plays golf with my father. And he and his wife have been to our house for dinner.”

“Hmm.” Gabe cocked his head. “Then, you’ll have to make sure you get what you want, not what they want. Only you can make your future happen.”

“Sometimes, they’re on me so much, I don’t know what I want. A glitzy job in the Secret Service is attractive in a lot of ways.”

“Glitzy?”

The boy’s expression was wise. “You know, like the one you’re going to.”

Gabe didn’t like the adjective. “Not everybody is into that kind of thing.”

“Yeah. I never pegged you for wanting glitz. I thought you liked teaching.”

“I do.”

“Then why are you going?”

“I had the VPPD once. I want protection again.” Even to his own ears, the comment was weak.

Langston stood. “Well, everybody here thinks you’re cool. Too bad you’re leaving.” He held out his hand and shook Gabe’s. “Goodbye, Agent Marino.”

He watched the boy walk away. He didn’t want to think about what Clay said, but his words plagued Gabe all the way back to his office.