Sound of Silence(87)

Every word we've shared, every touch and all the tears, and it's in his silence where I am claimed.

I find the absence of sound more meaningful than a thousand statements. Sometimes the hardest battles are fought in the mind. Courage isn't loud. It's in one step forward. It's reaching out with hope and revisiting painful memories. It's coming home and letting your spirit soar and accepting when it crashes into burning flames. Courage is renewal, rebuilding the weakened soul even when wounds are raw.

Minutes pass and finally, finally he grips my neck to draw my forehead to his chest. Bathed in cedar and pepper, I wrap myself in his heat and sigh. We're connected now irrevocably, or maybe this, us, was always God's plan. Fate is such a big word, one better left unspoken. Life is filled with wonder and laughter, but also pain. And yet on the other side of agony a new door opens, and once again I'm consumed by a beautiful mind, a courageous spirit.

We stay like this until JT squawks from the other room, and the spell is broken. But we are not. He is not, and nor am I. We are works in progress, and together we're coming along just fine.



 

OUR DAY STARTS at the rehab center where Caden recovered from his injuries and where he initially met Charlie months ago. She's asked him to teach basic self-defense techniques, something he did with her during his recovery. The documentary will air on national television in the fall. Not only is my boyfriend a hero, soon he'll be a celebrity, too.

Watching an Adonis, my Adonis, roll around on a mat has me itching to take him down. He's hard to resist. So I give it go during a break, and I get a few good licks in with a knee to the groin. He feigns injury, but tackles me a second later, and we end up laughing and tickling instead of self-defending.

Hours later, filming stops, and we head to the White House for a late lunch. Gram and Mrs. Carter confiscate JT as soon as we walk in the door. He's too tired to play and is out like a light after a sleepy smile.

A knock sounds. Caden and I turn to the door of the residence where a suited up Chief of Staff stands. "Lieutenant Commander Lawless, the President would like to see you in his office. I'll take you to him."

Caden finds my eyes. He brushes his lips over my forehead, and then he's gone. I watch his jean-clad ass slip out into the hall, and I'm lost without him and JT. My hands are empty and I find myself wrenching them in front of my stomach, alone.

Charlie walks out of the kitchen a second later with a tray of cocktails, but stops with a drawn brow. "Did I hear someone come in?"

Fear grips my heart. It shouldn't. We're safe. The safest place on Earth, probably. No one can get in the White House who isn't meant to be here, but terror like I haven't felt in a year strangles my words. "Mr. Daugherty took Caden to the President."

She stares at me for a moment and then ditches the drinks on a table. Taking my hand, she says, "Come with me."

We rush down one hall and another, a maze of stairs and doors, agents and staff. When she sees one man in particular, a man with clear eyes and a hard stare that appears to slice through you, she pushes me down a side hall and then through an entryway and into a dimly lit room. I have no idea where we are, but it's a good distance from the main house and bursting with business outside of the four mahogany walls that surround us. I suspect we may be in the West Wing.

Charlie presses a finger against her mouth and motions me forward, through a changing room where she presses her ear to another door.

Dread ties my nerves in a knot. I have a feeling whatever is said on the other side of this wall will change the course of my life forever.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE


SAFE TRAVELS





Caden



FOR THE SECOND day in a row, the President of the United States glares at me. I hold my own, but after a minute of silence I'll take any distraction. The man could unnerve a statue with his steely stare.

I look away, focusing on the Secret Service agents standing guard outside of the large windows. Justin? You around? What the fuck is going on? No answer. I fight to keep my hand out of my hair and tug my jeans down my thighs instead, away from my dick. Six hours shoved in a cup during training and before that, Piper doing her best to chaff my cock by riding it all night, and I'm a bit tender. Not that I'm complaining. She wants to see if she can rub me raw? Okay, no problem. I plan on giving her a go at it for the rest of our lives. It seems like a mission she'd like to conquer.

My thoughts flick back to the President as he sits across from me in the Oval Office. His hard gaze straightens my back, and I wait for him to explain my summoning. Just as he opens his mouth, his eyes cast down and then to the side. He sighs as if resigned and stands.

"Lieutenant Commander, I had no intention of intervening," he says while moving to the far side of the room. "But as you may know, my wife is quite persuasive." His quick flick to a latched door produces a cacophony of limbs and a screech when Charlie and Piper fall in.