Violet

“Stop. You look fine, and you’re getting yourself all worked up. Relax.”

Relax?

How the hell was I supposed to relax. The President of the United States was due at the barn any minute.

“Listen, we need to talk,” he said, handing me a bottle of water.

“You don’t have to say anything. We both know that shouldn’t have happened.” I’d save him the trouble of the brush off, and me the embarrassment. Truthfully, I didn’t want to hear him say it. I knew our time together didn’t mean anything to him. He admitted he had casual sex in the past. I had not. Despite my earlier actions, I’d never slept with a man I’d just met.

“Really? We both know?” Instead of looking relieved I’d let him off the hook, he looked pissed.

Why was he so mad? It wasn’t like I made his heart race like he did mine. I thought he’d be happy he didn’t have to find a way to let me down easy.

“I thought you’d be happy I knew the score,” I told him.

“The score?” Oh hell, he was getting angrier by the second. Maybe it was time I shut up. “Explain. What’s the score, Violet?”

He wasn’t going to let the conversation die. “You know, casual. You said you’ve had casual sex in the past. All I’m saying is I understand that what happened between us didn’t mean anything. I’m not going to get all clingy and expect a ring. You were right, it was a bad idea. In a few days you’ll never have to see me again and we’ll go…”

His growl echoed in the small room and I decided I was done explaining what the score was.

“Don’t try and use my words against me. Who I’ve fucked in the past has nothing to do with us.” Oh boy, he was beyond mad. The blue of his eyes had darkened, and he’d pinned me with his stare. “And you don’t get to speak for both of us. I didn’t know there was a score, and it certainly wasn’t meaningless to me. If it was to you than…”

He was cut off by an alarm beeping and he turned to face the bank of monitors. A black SUV was pulling up the dirt driveway at a high rate of speed. A second monitored showed a helicopter landing in the open field behind the barn.

“How come we didn’t hear the helicopter?” I asked.

“The basement is reinforced with anti-ballistic material. It makes this room sound proof,” he explained. “Someone could blow up the structure above us, and still have to get through several layers of protection to get down here.”

“Oh.”

“By the time someone could get through the basement door, there’d be plenty of time to get into the safe room and wait for help. Nothing of importance is kept here. All intel is stored at the office downtown.”

We watched as three men exited the helicopter at the same time the SUV had parked, and Zane met the other men, leading them through the exterior door.

“Shit.” I wasn’t ready for this.

“This is what I wanted to talk to you about,” Jaxon started. “You need to relax and answer his questions honestly.”

“Will you…” Shit, how did I ask him to stay without sounding like the clingy woman I claimed not to be.

Jaxon grabbed me around the waist and my hands landed on his chest to keep my balance. “I won’t leave your side.” I was grateful for the contact and tried to soak up as much of his strength as I could.

“Thank you.”

He kissed my forehead before he released me as the door opened and Zane walked in, the three other men following closely behind. Zane’s assessing gaze took in our closeness and shockingly didn’t look surprised. Then I remembered he was the one that gave Jaxon the bag full of condoms and embarrassment washed over me.

“Violet, this is Gerald and Aaron, President Anderson’s personal security detail.” Zane motioned to the two ginormous men flanking the President. “I’m sure you recognize the President.”

Suddenly my mind went blank; I didn’t know what to do. Was I supposed to shake his hand, offer a curtsy, salute, bow? Fuck a duck, the more time that passed the dumber I looked.

“Mr. President.” What the hell, Mr. President? That was all I could think to say.

“Violet Meyers. You seemed to have caused quite a stir,” the President said.

“Yes sir, I have. More than a stir I’m afraid.”

“Indeed. Let’s have a seat and talk.” What did I do now? What was the polite protocol? Did the President sit first? “Please.” He gestured to the chair opposite of him and waited for me to sit before he took his seat.

Zane handed him a file and sat to my left, while Jaxon sat to my right. The four of us sat around a table that was absurdly too small for the three large men. It looked like three G.I. Joe dolls sitting around a miniature Barbie table. As funny as the visual was, I didn’t think anyone would appreciate me finding humor in the situation.

“I believe in honesty, Miss Meyers. I’ll extend you the courtesy and warn you I’ve read your file. Zane briefed me and has continued to do so since you showed up at his personal residence. I’ve also been in constant contact with Mr. Keagan.” I knew from my research on Wolf’s team as well as Z Corps and Zane Lewis, John Keagan, better known as Tex, was one of the best intel gatherers in the US. I’d also seen the guys talking to him via video call on the plane. I had no doubt Tex had been able to get the President all the information he needed. “I’ve also spoken to Wolf and his platoon, specifically I’ve had a lengthy conversation with Abe.”

That couldn’t be good. Christopher “Abe” Powers was the last person I wanted talking to the President about me. Abe valued honesty and integrity more than anything, both of which I lacked in this situation.

“I’ve read all the SITREPS and briefs. Now I’d like to hear straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak, what transpired and how you came to the conclusion your best option was to betray your country.”

I tried my hardest not to squirm under the President’s scrutiny, but I was failing. My knee was bouncing, my palms were sweaty, and the words were caught in my throat. For six months I’d barely held it together. The only thing not allowing me to give up was knowing there were people counting on me to keep them alive. Now that Jaxon had explained they were all as good as dead, the driving force was gone. I had nothing to be brave for. I hated being weak and more than that, I hated others seeing it.

Jaxon’s hand gripped my knee and held it still and Zane pushed the bottle of water Jaxon had given me earlier in front of me. I took a sip and mentally prepared myself to relive the last few months.

I started at the beginning, telling the President how I was approached and talked all the way through killing the man in my living room and seeking out Zane’s help. It was the same account I’d told Zane; the same story I was sure the President had already read in his briefs. I didn’t leave a single incriminating detail out. I explained how and when I’d hacked into Attorney General Peter Newton’s emails, and how I was able to get into the White House emails between Pamela Cox and his wife. I admitted I’d read the personal emails and given the information to Timothy Clark.

“What tipped you off that Olivia Cox was Peter Newton’s daughter?” the President asked.

“I found an old email account of Mr. Newton’s. One of the emails was from Mr. Newton’s father asking Peter if the child Pamela was carrying was his and if so he was to make sure she had an abortion. Peter’s father didn’t want a scandal. The reply from Peter to his father explained Pamela’s child was not his but a man she’d met while in Paris for the summer. He went on to explain the man had died. Call it woman’s intuition but something didn’t seem right. All the previous correspondence between Mr. Newton and Miss Cox were of two people very much in love. Miss Cox did not strike me as a woman who would take a lover behind his back. I looked into Miss Cox’s life in France and there was nothing that led me to believe she’d cheated. It was the opposite actually. She was deeply in love with Mr. Newton.

“Once I found the connection to Pamela Cox, I started to look into her and her daughter Olivia. Miss Cox’s personal emails were a dead end. However, her internet searches proved to be helpful. She’d looked up several research hospitals and alternative medical treatments for brain tumors, along with how to draft a living will pro se. That’s when I hit pay dirt. Why would a woman who had money and connections, including access to the First Lady of the United States, want to draft her own living will and not use an attorney? Pamela Cox was hiding something. I hacked into the White House server to see if she and Mr. Newton had been communicating via their government email accounts. They hadn’t, but Miss Cox and the First Lady had. Pamela admitted Olivia was Peter’s child. Mrs. Anderson urged Miss Cox to tell Olivia and Mr. Newton the truth, not because Miss Cox was ill but because it was the right thing to do. Olivia needed to know her father.”

The President seemed satisfied with my explanation. “Sounds like my Rissa, always wanting to do the right thing.”

It was sweet, if you could call the POTUS sweet, that he called his wife, Marissa, Rissa. His face had softened a fraction when he said her name, but now he was looking back at me and the hard stare returned.

“If I’m understanding correctly, you sound like given the opportunity you wouldn’t change what you have done.”

“There are a few things I would change,” I admitted.

“Such as?” he asked.

Upon reflection, I’d realized I made some mistakes.

“I would’ve paid more attention to the shipments in and out of the house where Olivia was being held. My laziness almost got the extraction team killed. I didn’t know Manuel had set the house to explode. I also deeply regret killing the man in my apartment. When I did so, I believed he was a Chinese MSS agent. In my ignorance and silly assumptions, I killed a man that might have been being blackmailed by Manuel just like I was. I’m not saying crimes against the country shouldn’t be punished, but I shouldn’t have been the one to deliver them.”

“That’s what you’d change? Not helping Manuel kidnap Olivia? Not breaking into the White House servers. Not reading my wife’s personal emails to her assistant? Not giving information to a Bolivian war lord?”

I knew my answer was the unpopular one, and it went against everything these men believed but I would not back down.

“Sir, with all due respect, I thought then and still do, what I did was the right thing. I weighed my options and measured them carefully. There are one-hundred-five names on that list, their safety, and the catastrophic impact their exposure would’ve caused, was and still is more important than Peter Newton’s privacy. I don’t mean to sound callous, as I’ve explained, I’m sorry that Olivia Cox’s life was put in danger; however, it was for the greater good and national security. When I received the information a SEAL platoon was in danger and proprietary hardware had been compromised, I went to the only person I thought I could trust.”

“But you didn’t think to trust them when you were first blackmailed?” the President inquired.

“No sir, I didn’t. And I regret not thinking to do so. However, I don’t think they would’ve protected the list. I knowingly went against the United States policy and basically negotiated with a terrorist. For that alone, I willingly committed treason, and I’m fully aware of the punishment. I know I have no rights, and I’ve already mentioned this to Jasmin, but if I may be granted one small leniency - I beg you not to tell Declan what I’ve done.”

“Why is that?” Zane asked.

“He doesn’t deserve to feel any guilt. If he knows I’m spending the rest of my life in prison because I was trying to protect the names, his included, he’ll feel responsible. I don’t want that for him. He didn’t know.”

“Any luck tracking down Manuel or Declan?” the President asked Zane.

“Not yet. I have Garret and my team, as well as Tex, trying to get a lock on both of them,” Zane answered.

“And the list? Have the names been released?”

“Surprisingly no. Ortega seems more interested in Violet at the moment. Tex was able to shut down the sale of the guidance chip by going into chatrooms and explaining the US is no longer using the mini drones. Seems no one wants to buy technology that is no longer being used.”

I waited for the President and Zane to finish their conversation, tuning out the rest of what they were talking about, and concentrating on Jaxon’s hand still on my knee. I was going to miss him when he was gone. It was strange to think I’d only known him a few days, most of which were spent with him not being very fond of me. How, in such a small amount of time, had I come to care about him? The connection I felt was more than physical, it was comforting and soothing. I felt it deep in my soul.

I wondered if I’d be taken now? I’d given Zane all the information I had. I was of no use to them anymore. Now I was the strap Jasmin had once accused me of being. I was dead weight and Jaxon having to babysit me was a waste of man hours. I should’ve been happy I had a few stolen moments with him to take with me. How perfect it had been to be kissed and touched by Jaxon Cain. And loved, even if it was with his body. I’d lock those memories away and keep them close. But it wasn’t enough. I was greedy and wished I had more time with him.

It was the perfect punishment for what I’d done. I’d spend the rest of my life wishing I had more time with him, longing for the feel of him wrapped around me, and always wondering what if.