"It's going to be okay," I say, placing my hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze, but she doesn't respond or look at me. She keeps her gaze on the TV.
We watch as her mother, Governor Kate Meelios speaks into a microphone. She's standing at an outdoor podium, and the wind is blowing her hair in unruly patterns. She looks like she could be Medusa's sister, with a head full of slender, hissing snakes, and in one, long stare, it's as if she could turn you into stone. The thought of that almost makes me want to turn away from the TV, but I can't.
I keep listening. Our future depends on it.
"The events of the past 24 hours are outrageous, to the say the least," she says, and there's an edge to he voice that means she is more than ready for war to break out.
Her gaze is cool and calculating, her eyes as sharp as broken glass, as she continues. "Parker Trask has far over exceeded his authority as Mayor of this city. On that, I think we can all agree. He nearly assaulted an officer, the way he threatened to grab the officer's weapon and pushed his chest into the muzzle of the gun. He also turned the NYPD against us. That is a hostile act that can't—no, it won't be tolerated under my governorship, his blatant disrespect for the law."
I nearly choke, listening to the words pouring out of her mouth.
What the fuck? How can she in good conscience say these things?
"Can you fucking believe that? I seriously can't believe she's turning this all on me—making me look like the villain in all of this," I say to Amy, turning to her. But she's still glued to the TV.
"She's making me look like a villain too, Parker," Amy responds, just above a whisper and still glued to the TV. She still isn't saying much.
Actually, I take all of that back. I can believe it. I can believe every word coming from the Governor's mouth.
It's like deja vu.
This is Kate Meelios we're talking about, and she's quite possibly the most power hungry person I've ever met in my life, and that's saying a lot.
I've met a lot of power hungry people during my time on Wall Street, and in various political circles, but she puts them all to shame.
She'll stop at nothing to destroy anyone in her path to power.
I turn my attention back to the TV and listen as Kate Meelios continues her rant to the crowd. They seem to be agreeing to her every word, and her momentum is gaining.
"I'm preparing to send in the National Guard to close down Kinky Amy's. Sex trafficking will not be tolerated in this city, and neither will the antics of Mayor Parker Trask. If he wants to harbor—and protect—a woman who has already been found guilty of such heinous acts as sex trafficking, Parker should resign from politics and take his moral ineptitude elsewhere."
The crowd cheers at this, and it's clear that the Governor is gaining a lot of traction with the public. She's always known how to work a crowd—so long as she doesn't have a technical issue with her microphone.
This all makes me sick to my stomach—and mad. I ball one hand into a fist and shove it into my pocket. The way she's dragging Amy and I through the mud, and the fact she's gone to such extremes is infuriating.
I won't let her get away with this. Not now. Not ever.
Meelios continues, "Also, until further notice, I'll be freezing the assets of New York City until it complies with my ruling on indecency."
Did I just fucking hear her correctly? I'm now shaking my head and leaning in closer to the TV, disbelief etched into my face.
"This means," she continues, "that subway workers will no longer be receiving pay—public transit will come to a standstill. The state's food stamps will also stop being distributed. Just think about all of the disadvantaged families that will be affected by this. And it doesn't stop there. The state's colleges and the state's courts will also no longer receive funding. This will be a crisis unlike anything the state's ever seen—and all until Mayor Parker Trask resigns. I implore the Mayor to do the right thing."
"That bitch!" I yell at the TV, pumping one fist into the air. "I can't fucking believe the lows she's stooping to."
Then Amy turns to me. The expression on her face has changed to one of sadness, and I don't know what's worse—seeing her worried, or seeing her sad.
"You have to fire me, Parker," she says, looking at me before burying her face into her hands.
I immediately scoop her into my arms, wrapping her in my embrace. "No," I say. "I refuse to do that. We aren't going to let the Governor get the best of us."
But Amy doesn't seem convinced. I watch as a single tear zigzags its way down her cheek.
"I have," she says, and halts for a second before continuing, "a secret."
"A secret?" I ask, confused.
"Yes," she replies. "It's time I come clean to you Parker."