Chapter Fourteen
Benchley and I spend the rest of the ride to the White House crying, and then trying to pull ourselves together before we arrive.
There’s nothing else to talk about.
Thank god we’ve come from a tragic double funeral for my in-laws, because it means I don’t need to explain why I look like hell when we arrive.
I want Kevin, but I’m not about to call or text and interrupt him right now. Chris needs him.
The kids need him.
Besides…this isn’t exactly something for a text thread.
When we roll up to the White House, I try to get Benchley to get out first, but he smiles. “I follow the president, honey. You go first.”
So I do, but I help him out, me and the Secret Service agent who steps in. I once again have Benchley hold my arm and I keep my steps slow as I lead him inside.
Leo hurries up. “Welcome back, Madam President.”
“Leo, you remember State Senator Benchley Evans.”
“Yes, ma’am, I—”
“Benchley,” he grumbles, back to his old self. “Just call me Benchley, son.”
“Yes, sir.”
The wily old political wolf pats my arm.
We make our way down to the Oval Office, and we stand outside the door for a moment as he studies it.
“Never thought I’d ever be here,” he softly says, awestruck.
I wave Leo over and ask him to get the photographer. I want official pics of this day, ones I can frame and hang in the residence. This man isn’t only literally responsible for me being here. Even before the news that rocked my world, I felt this man was one of the key reasons I was here, for the help and advice he gave us in the very beginning of my campaign.
Now I understand why he so eagerly helped when, even being Momma’s friend and my godfather, I thought I’d need to sweet-talk him into giving me any crumbs of advice because of our political differences.
In retrospect, it makes sense that he’d produce two driven, intense daughters who are even more politically thirsty than he was. That can’t be a coincidence.
After the official pictures—including some of him sitting in my chair behind the Resolute Desk—the photographer and Leo leave us alone in the office, where we sit on one of the two sofas to talk.
I hold his hand, because I don’t want to let go.
“Do you have any questions for me?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not right now. I’m…processing.”
“I’m sorry to drop it on you like this. But I needed to tell you in person. I didn’t want to do this over the phone.”
“Were you really tired back at the funeral?”
He smiles. “Well, I was.” His smile fades. “But I knew we’d be alone.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Never change, Dad. Please.”
The tears hit us both at the same time.
I hug him. “Let’s go upstairs to the residence,” I say.
“Can I ask a favor?” He wears a playful smile I’ve known all my life without even knowing it.
It’s my smile.
“Sure.”
“When Carter gets here…can you bring him down here, too? SusieJo and Owen would get a real kick out of a picture of him in here.”
I don’t miss how he lists Owen. “Only if I can ask you something, just between us.”
“Okay.”
“I…know. About them. We talked to them early on for…advice. Not just political advice. And we’re friends.”
I can tell he doesn’t want to say too much from the way he slowly nods.
I continue. “We have something…similar going on.”
The playful smile returns. “Guess my instincts are right, then.”
“What instincts?”
He shrugs. “I suspected the day I married you and Chris, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. I had a feeling maybe you guys had done something before I got there. I saw the rings. Today, you were focused on Christopher and the kids. Kevin was focused on you, and not just because he’s your chief of staff. Chris is his best friend, but I could see they’re more. From the way Kevin would lay a hand on Chris’ shoulder and leave it there for a long moment, more than just a friend. Like Carter and Owen. But even before, when we had our talks, I could see it in him. He loves Christopher, too, doesn’t he?”
I nod. “It’s a long story, but they were together briefly a long time ago, then didn’t see each other for twenty years.”
“And you and Christopher were a thing by then?”
“Sort of.” I realize who I’m talking to. “We were, but it was a secret.”
“Well, if SusieJo and her boys can manage the juggling act since college, I don’t see why you three can’t. What’s your question, though?”
“Oh. Right.” I meet his gaze. “I don’t want to lose either of them.”
“Then don’t.”
“How do I protect them? Especially Kevin? Now that we have kids.”
“I think Kevin protects you, am I right?”
For the first time in a long time, I blush.
“Let him,” Benchley continues. “Let him do his job as your chief of staff and your…partner. There’s a reason Carter was Owen’s chief, and there might not be a better one ever known than him, with Kevin a close second. Carter’s loyal, driven, and focused on one thing—protect his loved ones at all cost. Even at the expense of himself. And that’s what he wants to do. So let Kevin be that for you. What SusieJo and the boys have works because they let the bromance shine, as she says it. Focus on the friendship. How does your press secretary play into that? Kev’s ex?”
“She’s a friend. She knows about Chris and Kev, but not about me and Kev, and that has to stay a secret for his reasons. It’s a long story, but I agree with those reasons.”
“By the way, you did damn good with Lauren. Hiring her was a stroke of genius.”
I smile. “That was all Kev. He wanted control of staffing that position and making her head of Communications.”
He laughs. “See? He’s already been protecting you.”
* * * *
Benchley and I are up in the living room when everyone returns a couple of hours later. We’ve already eaten dinner. There was a full buffet at the wake and Kev texted me to not wait to eat. The kids are exhausted, so after I give them hugs and kisses, Chris and Kev put them to bed while Carter joins me and Benchley. We’ve told people Kev is spending the next several nights here in the residence. Under the circumstances, fuck what anyone says about it.
Carter’s loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar, and I can see what Susa loves about him. As always, I’m struck by his very bearing, his quiet confidence. The man’s a Dom, for sure. I know he’s also former military, and he also saluted during the funeral.
Benchley waves Carter toward me. “Go downstairs with her, Carter,” he says. “Get a picture of you behind her desk.”
“No, I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not? I did!” He cackles, cracking me up.
Even our laughter is the same.
“It’s fine,” I assure Carter. “Come on.”
Together, we head downstairs and to the West Wing. I have Leo summon the photographer again, and after Carter fixes his tie and collar, we take more pictures. Alone once more, Carter seems to have an uncanny…accuracy.
“Something you need to talk about?” he asks.
“Yeah.” Except…he is Benchley’s son-in-law. Maybe he’s not the best person to talk to.
I study him for a moment, long enough he speaks again. “Look, Shae, this is us. You know about our secrets. We trust you. I don’t want to know the nuclear codes or anything, but if you need to talk, I’m here.”
That’s true. It’d be mutually assured destruction if he betrayed me, and he knows it. I also remember what Benchley said about Carter protecting his loved ones at any cost. That means he wouldn’t hurt Susa or Owen or their children by revealing this information.
I take the letter out of my desk, where I’d stashed it earlier when I was here with Benchley, and hand it to him. He sits on one of the sofas to read, his face transforming into an inpenetrable mask as he does.
I don’t have to connect the dots for him.
“Holy shit,” he whispers, the mask shattering as he processes it.
“Yeah.” I sit across from him. “I guess that makes you my brother-in-law.”
He carefully folds the letter and returns it to the envelope before handing it back to me. I wait for him to speak.
“Are you going to tell your men?” he asks.
“Kev probably. Chris…I don’t know. I think I’m going to have Kev bring me down here later tonight for a little…stress relief.”
He sits back and studies me for a moment. “Do you want me to tell Susa and Owen?” He sounds like that’s not his preference.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I hate that I have a sister I can’t claim, and a dad I can’t publicly acknowledge. And I hate that revealing it would hurt Michelle, so I don’t think we can tell them.” I also hate that I’m close to crying again. “I always wanted a dad, and now I’ve got one, and no one can find out. Not to mention, there’s an old…liability I don’t want uncovered or questioned.”
He chuckles, and in that moment, I know. He knows something, maybe not about this, but there’s something else.
“What?” I ask. “We’re in the weeds now, Carter. We’ll keep it in the trust box.”
He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. “Let’s just say that Benchley’s morals are incredibly strong and praiseworthy. But, as you’ve seen, his ethics are, in some very rare and very extreme cases—where a vulnerable person’s safety is at risk—extremely…flexible.”
“Flexible?”
“Think jumprope.”
“I don’t want Michelle to know,” I repeat. “Because this would hurt her.”
“Then we probably shouldn’t tell Susa. Not right now.”
I’m torn between wanting to spill everything to Carter and holding my cards close. “He told me Momma was the only time he was ever unfaithful to Michelle.”
He nods. “As far as I know, that’s accurate.” He slyly smiles. “And, believe me, I spent countless hours in the past looking for dirt on that man to use against him and keep him in line when I was helping Owen run for office.”
“What kind of dirt?” I ask.
“Any kind.” The smile vanishes. “If it means anything, I’ve never heard anyone say a bad word about him in that respect. In fact, I’ve had people tell me they hate him and his politics, but they respect he was so dedicated to Michelle and Susa. I honestly hope we lose him first, because if he loses Michelle, it will kill him. I mean, he wanted to go on to run for governor, and he would have nailed it.
“That was the actual freaking plan. He was going to run for governor, and Owen would run for state Senate, Benchley’s old seat, then Owen would run for governor while Benchley ran for US Senate, and then Susa would run for state senate. Lather, rinse, repeat. When Benchley had the heart attack, Michelle told him no more, he was done once his term ended, and he didn’t argue with her. Which, if you know anything about Benchley, that’s saying a lot.”
I shiver. “Would he have run for president?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. He says no, but I’m not so sure.”
“So can you do me a favor?” I ask.
“I’ll try.”
“If I have Chris coordinate visits with you guys, can we try to work in visits with Michelle and Benchley, too?”
“Absolutely, we can do that.”
“He said he hopes Susa doesn’t want to run for higher office.”
Carter leans back, running a hand through his hair. “Between you and me, that makes two of us. But if she does, we’ll do it. Because I want her to be happy.”
I think about the three children now living upstairs. “How do I keep the kids happy?”
“That is not an easy answer. Focus on being a parent as much as you can. As much normal stuff as possible. Help them with their homework. Have a routine. Dinner around the table every day, even if all you can spare is twenty minutes. But when you’re there with them, be all there. They need to know Mom is there for them.”
I think back to Momma. No matter how busy she was, she sat down with me every day in the evening to go over my homework with me. Even subjects she didn’t understand. In those cases, she asked me to explain stuff to her, to see if I knew it.
But the point was, I didn’t feel second-place to her job, ever.
In my life, she was Momma first, and State Senator Marlene Samuels second.
“I think I know what you mean,” I say.
“And we’re a phone call away.”
We both stand and he offers me a hug. “Thanks for coming with him,” I say.
“Glad I could. I mean, not the circumstances, but—”
“Yeah, I know.” I put the letter away and we return to the residence, where Chris and Kevin are sitting with Benchley in the living room and talking shop—of course—ahead of my reelection.
Chris holds a small glass of amber liquid on ice and looks…
Exhausted on a soul level.
I don’t want to hurry Benchley and Carter out. I should have invited them to stay overnight in the guest rooms. But once they leave, Kevin and I tuck Christopher in and we head back down to my office.
As we walk close together, we don’t hold hands, but he lets me brush the back of my hand against his, as if it’s accidental contact. That’s as much as he’ll allow me outside the residence, even when there are no members of the public in the White House.
I close the curtains and then without me even asking, Kevin sits in my chair and pats his lap. He knows me.
I curl up there, kicking my shoes off so I can tuck myself tight against him while he wraps his arms around me. I’m not expecting to cry again this hard, but I do, softly sobbing, my face buried against his chest and his strength wrapped around me. I don’t even know how long we sit there, but he knows what I need.
I needed Sir, and he’s here. My Prophet, his quiet, steady strength. The sadist is fun, too, but tonight Priest is wrapped in his own bubble of pain and he needs to work through it in his way. We’ll all spend the night in bed together, with Chris snuggled between us, but he has to process by himself. That’s him. That’s what he’s asked of us, a little time alone right now, and we have to respect that.
Kev gently rakes his nails up and down my outer thigh once I’ve calmed myself. “Can you talk about it, sweetie?”
Instead, I take out the letter and let him read it, tucking myself against him again while he does, my eyes closed.
I know he’s finished reading by the sound of his soft exhale. Then I hear him fold the letter and tuck it back into the envelope. “We need to put this somewhere safe,” he finally says. “It can’t stay in here. It can’t see the light of day while Benchley and Michelle are alive, and not while Susa’s still in office, or running for other offices. And we can’t tell Chris.”
“I know. Please, Sir?”
“Okay. I’ll put it someplace safe. Nothing on it identifies you by name, so that’s smart on her part.” I hear him drop it on my desk, then his hand returns, stroking my back. “Did he tell you…more than what’s in there?”
“Yes.”
This is a familiar routine with us. Sometimes, I can’t tell Kev stuff, because of national security. In those times, he knows just how to press to allow me the relief of him knowing my mind is heavy, but without me revealing what I can’t.
“That means we can’t let that see the light of day until you’ve retired from political life,” he says. “If ever. You’d be implicated for not exposing it, wouldn’t you?”
I nod.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
“No.”
He nuzzles the top of my head. I never imagined this man would become my world. That night he interviewed me outside Amalie Arena in Tampa, I had no clue he’d unlock my soul in ways I never dreamed.
Both of these men.
“We could go up to the third floor,” he suggests.
He means the workout room. There’s no staff up there tonight, unless we call for them, and it’d be far enough from the kids’ rooms they couldn’t hear us.
It’s…tempting. And this is a sweet pocket of time we might not have for a while. We can sneak little bubbles of privacy like this, but play is more difficult, except in bed, and we don’t want to wake Chris.
“Okay.”
He immediately pinches the outside of my thigh, hard, making me yelp. “What was that, girl?” he softly asks.
I shiver as engrained reactions sweep through me. “Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”
He kisses the top of my head and chuckles. “Good girl.”
Does it make me a horrible person that, after this day, just that little thing can turn me into a super-horny, squirming ball of need?
We go upstairs, and Sir takes over, quickly stripping me, putting me on my knees, and face-fucking me until he’s ready to put me on my hands and knees and fuck me like that.
I love it—I love Him.
Later, once we’re both satisfied and exhausted, he puts us both together enough we can head back down to the bedroom and climb in on either side of Chris. He’s asleep, and from the deep sound of his breathing I suspect the alcohol helped him a little.
At least he’s sleeping, and now he’s with both of us, and the worst is behind us.
From this point on, he can heal, the kids can heal, and we can start building our family.
I’m the last one awake, judging from the sound of Kevin’s snores, and I can finally…think.
Part of me feels more than a little angry that I was denied all those years with Benchley and spent them idolizing a man who not only wasn’t my father, but was a fucking abusive asshole, to boot.
But the politician in me understands why.
I also get why he waited to give me her letter, instead of telling me after she died, or even before she died, but when she’d gone nonverbal and we knew she was just months or less from death.
Promises to keep.
A lot of things in my life make better sense in this new context, though. I have no doubts I inherited a lot from Benchley.
I have a lot to learn from him.
I only hope there’s still time for me to spend time with him and get to know him better before we lose him, because it’s a comfort to know he’s still out there and looking out for me in ways I didn’t even know.
Because he loves me.
Because he’s loved me all these years, in secret and from afar.
Because he cared about Momma enough to hold those secrets for her.
And because he cared enough to kill for her.
Maybe ten or even twenty years ago, I might have been horrified by that revelation.
I now hold the keys to a huge empire, and have been anointed with secrets far worse than that.
Perspective.
I have perspective.
Ancient promises aside, I also hope I can be as good a parent to those children now entrusted to us as Benchley and my Momma were to me.