Hell.
CHAPTER 9
Autumn
My bottom lip trembled as I looked toward my father, who waved goodbye to me from the front porch of our home. Although it was just a temporary arrangement, I still didn’t like how it felt. While I knew there was nothing I could personally do to protect him, I hated the idea of leaving him.
He, on the other hand, felt the only thing he could do to personally protect me was to stay away from me. His political ambitions and prowess had made him a target in ways we never could have imagined. The assassination attempt at the restaurant felt like the biggest slap in the face; just when we had finally started moving on from the shock of the bomb explosion, our world had been turned upside down all over again.
There was no doubt that the gunman had been hired by political opponents, yet, there was no solid way to prove it. And going public with such allegations would only cause more problems than it would solve.
The world of politics was a twisted place, but Dad had now gotten in too deep to do anything about it. In a sense, we had been naïve due to his popularity as Speaker of the House. Nonetheless, it was common knowledge that he supported policies that were despised by his opponents. Furthermore, he had never been hesitant in discussing the shortcomings of opposing parties to popular news outlets and anyone else willing to listen.
While this behavior had always been championed by his supporters, it had clearly made his opponents want to retaliate. And now that he was in the running for one of the highest positions in the world, unnamed opponents were willing to stoop to new lows to take my father out of the picture, permanently.
All of this had led him to decide that the farther away I stayed from him, the better. He didn’t want me within a mile of harm’s way.
I stood outside, my arms wrapped around myself even though the air held no particular chill in it, as Brady loaded my suitcases and bags into our ‘escape’ vehicle. We were to go to a designated safe-house, and I was to live there until further notice—or in other words, until my father felt it was safe for me to come around again.
“Take care of her, Brady,” my father called out, a somber expression on his face.
Brady held open the passenger’s door for me. “I will, sir. I promise.”
* * *
The safe house felt foreign. Despite the welcoming atmosphere its comfortable plush furniture, warm colors, and overall cozy décor provided, it wasn’t home, it wasn’t where I wanted to be, and there was nothing that could make me stop worrying about my father.
I lied awake, well into the night, staring at the ceiling of my new bedroom. Brady was staying in the guest bedroom down the hall, although from the constant creeks I heard on the wooden floors, I knew he wasn’t sleeping well either. I kept hearing him going into the living room, likely looking out the window and checking out the premises, making sure everything was in order and that no one had followed or found us.
When I couldn’t stand staring at the ceiling anymore, I climbed out of bed.
The floor cold on my bare feet, I crept into the living room. Brady didn’t hear me; he was too busy staring out the window. He wore plaid pajama pants, and nothing else. There was just enough lighting from the windows to display his muscular back and smooth taut skin, covered in tattoos.
A swooping sensation went through my lower belly, and I suddenly realized how badly I wanted to feel his arms around me—not just because I yearned for his touch again, but because I just wanted to feel safe.
I stopped behind him, barely breathing, and just taking in his silhouette in the moonlight.
Sensing me, he slowly turned around. “Autumn…” He ran a hand through his silky hair. “Are you all right?”
I shook my head.
“I’m sorry. Of course you’re not. Not after today…”
“Thank you, Brady. For saving my father’s life.”
He swallowed and nodded. His eyes trailed my face, and then down to my thin camisole and pajama shorts. “Can’t sleep?”
I shook my head again.
“Do you need anything? Cup of tea, or…I don’t know. Something to eat? Some places around here are probably open late. I could—”
“Brady, stop,” I said, cutting him off.
“Autumn?” He frowned and closed the distance between us in two strides. “Shit. You’re not okay at all.”
I sniffed and looked away, embarrassed that he was seeing me at my lowest. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a burden to you...”
“What are you talking about?” He cupped my chin and made me