Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
And then he’s gone.
CHAPTER 36
LENNIX
“Lennix, no.”
Maxim throws the words down, a gauntlet. A challenge, not a choice.
He sits on the arm of the couch and draws me to stand between his legs.
I rest my hands on his shoulders. “I’m not afraid of Gregory Keene.”
“I am,” he says, his eyes pained. “How can I not be? Not for myself, but for you. Baby, this man killed my brother. He almost killed you. A campaign run right now tempts the devil.”
“Let him come. Look, I get it. I’m scared for you, too. God, I am, but we can’t hide forever. Grim will make sure you’re impossible to get to. And you can wrap me in cotton. Give me a dozen security guards. Load me down with diamond-crusted geotrackers. I don’t care, but don’t let this opportunity pass you by.” I frame his face between my hands and look into his eyes. “I’m going to ask you one question, and I want you to answer absolutely honestly.”
He hesitates then nods.
“Is there any part of you that gets excited at the prospect of leading this country?”
He doesn’t nod, but that telltale flare of passion and ambition I noticed our first night together brightens his eyes.
“Do you believe you could do it?” I ask. “If safety weren’t an issue, would you want to?”
“That’s three questions.”
“You haven’t responded to any of them.” I lean down to whisper in his ear. “Because you know the answer is yes.”
He drops his gaze to our feet, a dark fan of lashes casting shadows under his eyes. I slip my hand in the pocket of his sleep pants and pull out his phone.
“I want you to watch something with me.” I turn, slotting my hips between his legs as he sits on the arm of the couch, pressing my shoulders into the chiseled warmth of his chest. I search on his phone’s browser until I find the video, slide the progress bar, and press play.
“Someone, the person who killed my brother, thinks we should be afraid.” Maxim says on the video, pain and passion etched onto his striking features. “I’m not afraid. Don’t you be afraid either. You know what scares me? Cynicism. Apathy. Anything that convinces people to settle, to quit. The thought that people will give up on changing this world because of one person’s cruel cowardice makes my blood run cold. I would have given up on the system, the way things work, long ago had it not been for Owen. He renewed my faith in the process by which we change things in this country.”
“Jesus, Nix.” Maxim grabs the phone and presses the arrow to stop the video. He holds me from behind, his chin tucked into the curve of my neck. “I can’t watch that.”
I fold my hands over his, holding the phone against my stomach, and wait for him to elaborate.
“That was the hardest day of my life,” he continues quietly. “I believe those words. When I hear that, I want to do everything that guy on the video tells me I should.”
I turn my head, angling so I can look up at him over my shoulder. “But?”
“But then I imagine having to say those words for you.” His breaths come short and ragged in my hair. “Do you think I’ll care if this country goes to hell if you’re gone?”
“Oh, Doc.” I turn and look up at him, moved by the intensity of his eyes on my face. They’re starved. They consume. Has a man ever looked at a woman the way Maxim looks at me? “I’ve got my own throwback for you.”
The uncompromising line of his mouth gentles. “Yeah? What?”
“You once told me it’s the dreamers who change the world the most—that something about the present wasn’t good enough, so they made the future.”
He grimaces and drops his head back, studying the ceiling.
“Hell, Nix,” he groans, snapping his gaze back to mine. “You’d accept the security?”
“I told you I would. Every bit of it. Mall cops, K-9 units, special ops, whatever.”
“So this was all it took to get you compliant, huh?” he asks, a slow smile softening the hard planes of his face.
“We’ll see who’s compliant when we get out on the campaign trail.” I laugh, reaching around to lightly slap his butt. “And I’m running that ass. You might be the candidate, but I’m the boss.”
“If I decide to do this, that’s one thing I could look forward to.” He slides his hands down to cup my bottom. “Screwing my campaign manager.”
“Yeah, about that.” I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut because this point alone could undo all the progress we just made. “I don’t fuck my candidates.”
He throws his head back, his laughter rich all around me. “Okay, if I run, we’ll see how long that lasts.”
“I’m serious.” I let it sink in and watch the humor drain from his expression.