Epilogue
“George, where’s your wife?” Jordan asked as we all boarded the plane.
Ana and I were the first ones at the airport, probably because we were the most excited to get out to Los Angeles and see Jeremiah. George had showed up just after us, but I hadn’t thought to ask him where Cindy was. When Jordan and Chase got on the plane, the very first thing she said to him was about Cindy.
George and Cindy had two teenage children, ages 17 and 18. Their relationship had been strained for at least half of the children’s lives. Things never seemed to be getting better for them; instead, they actually seemed to get much worse for them throughout the years. But they were married and had two beautiful children, that was a pretty damn big accomplishment.
“We are getting a divorce,” George said as he looked at Jordan and then out the window of the plane. “And I don’t really feel like talking about it much.”
That was the end of that. If George didn’t want to talk about something, he just didn’t talk at all. We had all grown up with him as our older brother and dealing with his mood swings was sometimes a bit much for us, even as teenagers. But his marriage had been pretty rocky for a few years and we all knew that every time we saw him.
“I’m glad I got to meet you,” Ana said as she reached her hand out to shake George’s hand.
“Yeah, me too.”
“Does anyone know what this film is about that Jeremiah is in?” Chase asked.
Jeremiah had invited us all to come out to Los Angeles for his big movie premiere. It was the first time we were all going with our girlfriends and wives. It was actually the first time we had all hung out in a very long time.
“Where is Jackson?” Chase asked.
“He and Roxanne are on their way. They just got in from Italy and are changing planes to join us.”
“I’m excited to see Roxanne and Jackson,” Ana said.
I knew she would be excited to see them. It was mostly the two of them who had helped rescue her. Chase and I had only been there for manpower and to help where we could. Jackson was the one trained in tracking people down and he was much more willing to get involved in illegal activity than I was. Except when Stephano was concerned; I had been more than willing to turn to the dark side to get rid of that asshole from our lives.
We didn’t talk about Stephano anymore. It was a part of the past and there was nothing to talk about anymore. Officially, none of us knew what had happened to him. We only knew what we had seen in the news: Stephano Copal was shot dead in a drug deal gone wrong.
The death of Stephano had triggered an all-out gang war across southern Florida. Each gang blaming the other for the incident and none of them taking credit for what had happened until the news started saying that the person who killed Stephano was the most powerful person in all of the gangs. After that story came out, dozens of people took credit for Stephano’s death, and many of them ended up dead after they announced that they had murdered him.
Stephano’s death may not have been a legit kill of a bad guy like I had done while I was overseas or protecting clients, but I never lost any sleep over it. Sure, I hadn’t pulled the trigger myself, but I had issued the order and paid a man very well for his skills in that area. It was my fault that Stephano was dead. Actually, it was Stephano’s fault he was dead. If he hadn’t been such a horrible person, nothing would have happened to him.
“Let’s get this party started,” Roxanne yelled as she climbed the steps to the plane.
Roxanne was a vivacious red head who had a personality just as strong as her red hair. There wasn’t anyone else on earth who I thought could actually handle Jackson; the two of them were paired up perfectly.
She and Jackson had been like water and oil when they had first met while trying to find Ana. But over the years, the two of them had practically molded into one person. They were both outrageous at times and had strong backgrounds that guided them in what they were doing.
“I need a drink, stat,” Jackson said as he climbed on board as well.
“I’ll grab you guys some rum and Cokes; you must be exhausted,” I said as I went back to the stewardess to get the drinks started.
“Ana, oh my God, you look so fucking amazing,” Roxanne said as she sat down next to Ana and the two of them started talking like they were sisters.
It was Roxanne who had given us all the information we needed to find Stephano and she had given up her life to hunt him down. If things hadn’t have went as well as they did, Roxanne would have been the one dead. We were really lucky that she had met Ana and wanted to help her when we arrived at her place of work.
“She does look pretty damn good, doesn’t she?” I said as I slid my arm around her and pulled Ana close to me.
Ana was a strong, independent woman who was taking on the world one step at a time. She had insisted on being part of my new company and I really couldn’t tell her no at all. But since we were talking about getting married and having children, Ana decided to help run the home office while I signed up new clients. We even agreed that I wouldn’t be deploying much at all, and instead hired on some of the best guys I knew to work for me.
Of course, Baller and Sandbag came to work for me. After everything that had happened in Syria, there was no more business for Blankenship and a lot of workers came to work with me. Blankenship retired and sold me his client list, so I had a built-in group of clients without having to start from scratch.
“Is Jeremiah still dating that nineteen-year-old?” George asked.
George didn’t seem happy at all; not even going to a movie premiere could make him smile. It was going to be a long trip if George didn’t get his act together and start participating in life. He was the one of us who had been living life. He got married first, had children, and was doing all that domestic living stuff well before any of the rest of us. I had been looking forward to asking for advice from him, but I figured he probably wouldn’t be interested in giving advice out now that he was going to get a divorce.
Divorce wasn’t anything I ever wanted to be part of. I was going to make sure I picked a woman who I loved no matter what, so I wouldn’t have to get a divorce.
“No, I think he’s single now. His filming schedule has been pretty crazy for the last few months.”
“He texted me last week and said he was dating a starlet or something, that he’s filming his own stunts,” Chase added.
“What? His own stunts?” I was not happy about that.
The movie industry was notorious for making stars film their own stunts and then having them get hurt in the process. One of Jeremiah’s friends had actually been killed while filming a shooting scene, and somehow there had been an actual real bullet in the gun instead of a blank.
“Yeah, he seemed pretty stoked about it though, so don’t be a downer, Nate.”
“Chase, since when did you become the guy who wanted to stop people from being downers? I thought you were the new uber professional who was in charge of everything and had everything in perfect order now.”
“Yes, Nate, I am that person. But Jeremiah is having fun and you don’t need to ruin that.”
“Shut up.”
Sometimes there wasn’t anything else to say, and I wasn’t ashamed to tell my little brother to shut up every now and then. He was getting entirely full of himself lately. Chase was running the family business and doing a really damn good job of it. Jordan had her baby and he had even taken paternity leave to stay home with Jordan and their new daughter. It was a pretty progressive thing to do as a man running a company, but it set a great example for his other male employees.
As our plane took off for L.A., I used the time to catch up on the gossip about Jeremiah. We actually didn’t get to talk to him all that much and ended up trying to decipher the news stories as they came through the press.
It was a pretty awesome sight to have four of us brothers on the plane together and with our women, even if George wasn’t going to have his woman around anymore. We were all growing up and having our families and moving into the next stage of our lives.
“How much longer?” Ana asked as she cuddled up to me about halfway through the flight.
“Another hour; should we go join the mile high club?” I teased.
She lifted her head up to face me, and for a second I thought she was going to say yes. But she quickly laid her head back on my chest and closed her eyes. We were both exhausted from running the new business. Every waking hour was dedicated to building stronger and getting more clients.
When we finally landed in Los Angeles, I knew something was wrong the second we got off the plane and Jeremiah wasn’t there. He had become a big wig in L.A., but when he said he would meet us at the airport, he never forgot about us. Jeremiah was responsible, despite his willingness to be wild and have fun.
We waited for him for at least thirty minutes and called his cell phone, but Jeremiah never answered us. When we arrived at his house via taxi, Jeremiah wasn’t there. It looked like he had been there in the morning, probably before going to the filming set, so we didn’t worry too much because we figured filming must have run later than normal and he hadn’t had a chance to check his phone.
The movie industry didn’t really care if your entire family was flying in to see you. There were thousands of dollars being spent on filming a scene and the studio was going to make sure the scene was completed before they let people leave for the night.
“Something’s wrong,” Ana said when we crawled into our bed at Jeremiah’s house.
He had an eight-bedroom house, so there was plenty of room for all of us to stay with him. We each had our own guest rooms and there were still a couple to spare.
“I’m feeling it too,” I said as I held Ana close to me. “Should I call the studio and see?”
“You probably won’t be able to get to someone who knows what is going on until the morning though. Maybe we should just try to sleep and call them in the morning?”
“Jackson will be able to find out,” I said as I sat up.
“Then go ask him to find out; I’m worried.”
I didn’t need Ana’s approval to send Jackson looking for Jeremiah; I just wanted to know I wasn’t acting totally crazy because I wanted to know where he was. Jeremiah was a grown up and probably spent many nights with beautiful women and not thinking about his family; it was entirely possible he had simply been confused about which day he had to pick us up. He was likely wrapped up in the sheets with a delicious supermodel who he was dating or something like that.
I knocked on Jackson’s door and he answered it much quicker than I had expected him to. In fact, he didn’t look like he had been resting at all. His hair was in place still and his clothes were in perfect order.
“I know, I’m having some people track him now,” Jackson said.
“Great, let me know what you find out.”
Jackson was a professional at finding people, and if there was any doubt of where Jeremiah was at, Jackson was going to find him.
By the time 3 a.m. rolled around, we were all up and sitting in the living room as Jackson went through his contacts with the local police force to see if any of them knew where the filming had been taking place or if it had run late that evening.
The police officers have to keep the general traffic away from a filming location and they would also be the first ones to know when things had ended for the evening.
“What?” Jackson said urgently into the phone. “Life flighted? We will be right there.”
When Jackson got off the phone, we all stood still looking at him and waiting for him to tell us what was going on. Jackson didn’t tell us anything right away and instead stood with the phone at his side as he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked horrible, and we all feared what the news would be.
Although Jeremiah wasn’t the youngest of us all, he did seem like the youngest since Chase had started being responsible. Jeremiah was certainly the most laid back and fun brother out of all of us. Our hearts hurt at the idea he was injured so badly he had to be life flighted.
“What the hell happened? Tell us what’s going on,” I said.
“Oh, sorry. He was doing a stunt where he jumped through a window to a blow-up mat that would catch him below. Apparently, the wind was blowing and he hit the edge of the mat instead of in the middle. He was unconscious when they got him from the filming location and they are pretty sure he’s got several broken bones.”
We were all stunned into silence as we gathered out things and got ready to head to the hospital. As a family, we hadn’t had to deal with the death or serious injury of any of us. I knew I certainly wasn’t prepared to lose Jeremiah, and I was pretty damn sure no one else was either
The Complete Power Romance Series
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams
POWER #1
Chapter One
I stood in the shadow of the great house before me, hearing the taxi whiz behind on its way back toward Pennsylvania. I’d never been in the White House before, but God, had I imagined it. The exterior white shell of it seemed to speak of so much—so much history. Those immaculate rooms, that power, the vibrancy. And, above all, that handsome president—the leader of the free world.
I adjusted my blue suit beneath me, tugging at it, allowing my breasts to bounce a bit. I knew that they didn’t hurt my chances, but I didn’t like to think of it. I knew my smarts could propel me into the role if I played my cards right; if I flung myself through the interview like a pro—like I had countless other times throughout my career—I could land the position of my dreams.
Head of the President’s Re-election Campaign.
I thought about the way they’d discuss it on the news: Amanda Martin, the woman of the hour. Only 29 years old and already moving her way up the political ladder.
Beneath my fine blue suit, I felt my stomach grumble at me with a sort of rage. I was nervous, certainly. After all, my past accomplishments didn’t stand up against this feat. I’d been president of my sorority back in school, just because I didn’t want my sorority (the one my mother had forced me to join, stating she wouldn’t pay for my college otherwise) to be just like any other sorority. If I was going to be a part of it, we were going to make a goddamned difference. And we did.
And then, after that, in my home city of Philadelphia, I’d become one of the secretaries in the mayor’s office. Nothing big, no. But after a few years into it, with success around every corner and my name blasted in a few important people’s ears, I’d been invited to come to Washington to work on the initial campaign for the now-president. I’d been only 24 at the time, and I wasn’t ready for the flash, the grandeur of D.C. But I acclimated easily, after a few minor bumps and one silly affair with a congressman.
Just one!
And now, I found myself back in D.C. A congressman, George Carlman, had suggested I apply. I’d been an essential part of the previous campaign. I remembered the rallies, the fast-paced nature of it all. I remembered counting votes until my eyes bled. But when our president, Xavier Callaway, had made that speech on that January day, I knew it had all been worth it. My heart seemed to beat only for him. It wasn’t just that he was handsome—after all, he’d paid nearly no attention to me during the entire election process. It was that what I had done, all the work I’d propelled into the campaign, had been worth it. Goddamn it, it’d been worth it. And that, beyond anything else, was beautiful.
Two Secret Service agents met me at the door and pushed it open, allowing me entrance into the immaculate foyer. I thanked them with a polite, if firm, voice. I wanted them to take me seriously, as I was interviewing to run their president’s re-election campaign. I didn’t envision myself as some flighty girl. No, I was so much more—intelligence and strength and vitality.
“Just a minute, Miss,” the Secret Service agent stated, bringing his hands up to his shoulders, positioned in the air. “You know the drill.”
I did.
I held up my hands to mirror his,and allowed him to touch my body with his long, thick fingers. He roughed up around my hips, on my ass, making sure I didn’t have anything on my person. I winked at him as he did it, making him feel uncomfortable. He looked down, uncertain.
“I’m just kidding, Dimitri,” I told him, nearly laughing. I’d known him for nearly four years at that point and I knew he felt awkward.
“Amanda, so sorry about this,” he said. I knew that he had a crush on me; I’d known it since we’d met on the campaign trail.
“Please. It doesn’t bug me at all. I kind of like it,” I laughed, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re in for the interview, yeah?” he asked.
I nodded to him, looking down for a moment. I realized that I was truly nervous; I hadn’t let myself feel it until that moment. “Have there been many interviews today?”
Dimitri shrugged. “He’s seen a few, sure. But you’ll be great. I know you know your stuff.”
I smiled at him, still uncertain. Everything else I’d ever done had worked out perfectly. I’d literally never failed—and the thought of failure terrified me. But casting my eyes far into the future made me so nervous, so uncertain. I couldn’t be sure about my stance in the Oval Office. Who was I kidding? I was only a 29-year-old woman in D.C., surrounded by countless, better-qualified people.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I spun back around, allowing Dimitri to walk alongside me.
“What have you been up to?” he asked.
I flashed him a bright smile. “I’ve been working down the Hill, beneath Congressman Carlman. He actually encouraged me to apply for the position.”
“You’ve made a name for yourself in D.C.,” Dimitri said.
He led me up the steps that curled so perfectly into the ethers. I thought of Abraham Lincoln, of Kennedy—of all of them climbing these same steps. I shivered, knowing I was entering a sacred home.
He led me down the wide hallway, and I gazed at the many paintings and at the textured blue wallpaper. I felt my heart beating so fast in my chest. I felt like I was entering a dream world—probably because it was a world I had dreamed of so much.
Finally, we reached it: the Oval Office. I took a deep breath and turned toward Dimitri. His dark hair and eyes were so stark in the strange hallway, this Secret Service agent who’d actually joked with me throughout. Back then, Xavier Callaway had been a congressman with only a bodyguard named Dimitri. When Xavier had become the president, he’d brought his man with him.
“It’s great that you work here now,” I said to him, still uncertain about entering this terrifying place.
Dimitri nodded. “The president is a good man. And I know I’ll see you around,” he whispered, bringing his hand toward the door and spinning the knob. I was going in; my stomach dropped.
I swallowed slowly and brought my heels forward. I held my chin high, knowing that I could rule a room—perhaps even that room. I knew that in all my past interviews, in all my past triumphs, I’d won over everyone I’d encountered. That was all I needed: full control of the room.
But how was I supposed to do that when I was meant to have full control over the goddamned President of the United States?