Protecting Freedom

“Good, I don’t want to miss it.” I watch him leave and feel somewhat better. I can’t believe July is pregnant. Now the two of them can stop hiding.

I finish eating and put my plate in the sink before I leave the kitchen. I wanted so badly to ask my dad what had happened to Washington. But when someone says something’s classified I’ve learned to drop it. No matter how nosy I want to be. Still, I wonder if I can get something from July. I want to congratulate her on the baby and let her know I’m happy for them. But I wonder if she knows he was going to tell me.

“Freedom is on the move,” I hear from behind me. I glance over my shoulder to see Agent Sweet following me, and I give him a smile. Sweet has been with me from the beginning and is my favorite agent on my detail. He reminds me of a sweet old man, but he’s probably the same age as my dad.

Everyone on my detail calls me Freedom. It’s my code name. All the presidents and their families have code names while in the White House and this is mine. Agent Sweet might know what happened to Washington. I’ll have to press him if July doesn’t cave.

When I walk around the corner I pause when I see Washington standing next to July’s desk. They’re talking in low whispers and she’s shaking her head, not liking whatever it is that he’s saying.

“I thought you were supposed to be with my dad,” I blurt out. A rush of jealousy surges forward. They both jerk their heads up at the sound of my voice.

“Ms. Kennedy is going with him instead of me.” Washington answers for the both of them. His eyes lock with mine and my breath hitches. His dark green eyes hold me in place as he looks me up and down. Then he glances behind me and his face becomes all business. “Agent Sweet, please take Ms. Kennedy to the president. I’ll stay with Freedom.”

I didn’t know Washington could boss agents around, but Agent Sweet nods and steps away.

“I’ll see you later, Honor,” July says as she grabs her bag and comes around to give me a hug. I guess my dad liked my reaction to them being together, or he just wants her by his side. Either way, I like that he’s asking her to come along.

“Have fun.” I kiss her on the cheek.

“Thank you,” she says, beaming at me. She looks so happy as she walks away.

I don’t have to turn around to know that Washington is staring at me. I can feel his eyes on my back and I slowly turn to face him.

There’s so much power radiating from him as his big body stands ready. I wonder if it’s something he’s been trained to do or if he naturally takes up the whole room. Every emotion I feel shows on my face, but he stands like a statue. Yet somehow I can feel the room pulse just for him.

“I’m really sorry I pulled one of your stitches,” I say nervously. I feel exposed as his eyes rake over my body. Can he not feel the electricity snap around us?

The white dress shirt and suit jacket are gone, and now he’s wearing a plain black T-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. He looks powerful and intimidating, yet all I want to do is rub up against his body like a kitten. He carries an aura that warns people not to fuck with him. But like a moth to a flame, it just makes me want him even more. His dark hair and dark green eyes are the highlights in my fantasies. His hard jaw and the rough angles of his face might make people think he isn’t handsome, but I’ve never wanted a man more.

He’s the monster in my closet that I should be afraid of. But all I want to do is open the door and join him inside.

“It’s fine,” he says, his gravelly voice breaking the silence. “Like I said, I’ve had worse.”

“Does it hurt?” I take a step towards him, wanting to touch him. My fingers ache for it and I glance over my shoulder thinking we’re pretty much alone.

“I’ll escort you back to your room.”

I want to tell him I don’t need an escort, but he probably knows it and is just being polite. At least if he walks me I’ll get to spend more time with him. So I do as he says, wanting to steal any moment I can with him. I move down the hallway at a slow pace but feel him close to me. Much closer than Agent Sweet walks.

“July told me you’re a Marine,” I finally say. I want to hear him talk.