There went that stupid humble look that Jace pulled off so well; no wonder he was a good actor: he was a damn politician! Don’t fall for it, Char! He’s a lying, cheating—
Shit, it was like he was looking in a damn mirror.
What the hell had Travis been thinking?
The car started moving and Jake’s stomach rolled again. He was never going to make it the fifteen minutes to their house.
Sitting backward wasn’t helping.
Char and Jace fell into easy conversation while Jake opened the window and wondered how awful it would be to jump from a moving vehicle, or to plan a homicide for that matter. Was there still a jail sentence if he paid someone off?
The car pulled to a stop.
Jake groaned against the window.
“Hey, champ, you okay?”
Champ? Did Jace just call him Champ?
“Fantastic.” Jake said through clenched teeth.
Jace’s smile was so damn irritating that if Jake did throw up, he vowed to do it all over the man’s black t-shirt and white linen pants. Who wore linen pants in the city? They weren’t at the beach, and they were practically see-through. The man might as well say, “Please stare at my junk.”
“Jake, are you sure you’re okay?” Char sounded actually concerned. He set his eyes on her and wanted to yell. He wasn’t okay, far from it, but he had to look strong; his self-esteem had suffered enough. Swallowing the bile in his throat he nodded once and winked at Char.
Her cheeks stained a pretty pink before her eyes darted away from his and back to Jace.
“Anyways, as I was saying…” Jace cleared his throat and shot an irritating glance at Jake before turning his megawatt smile back on Char.
The smell of fast food floated through the window. Jake tried to push the up button but it was too late. It knocked him flat. All of the nausea he’d been holding in starting rushing toward the back of his throat.
“I think I’m going to be si—”
He didn’t have time to finish the sentence; he hung his head out the window and lost every drink he’d had the previous night and probably the past year on the door.
And then he heard sirens.
Too miserable to say anything, he could only stare in horror as the cop pulled over the limo and approached Jake’s puke-stained door.
“Sir, you do know it’s against the law to—”
“It’s okay, Jim.” Jace said from behind Jake. “He’s with me.”
“Mr. Senator! Lovely day, isn’t it?” Jim, a pudgy cop, saluted. “You sure you got this? I could bring him in, rough him up a bit.”
You know you’re hungover when the thought of prison actually sounds like an attractive alternative to the pounding in your head.
“Not necessary.” Jace slapped Jake on the back and laughed. “Seems to me he just can’t hold his liquor.”
“Not many men can compete with you, Mr. Senator.”
“Get a room.” Jake mumbled under his breath.
“Pardon?” Jim reached for his Taser. Oh, hell no.
Jace cleared his throat. “We need to get going Jim. Say hi to Linda and the kids.”
“Will do!” Jim waved then leaned down to Jake. “I’ll be watching your punk ass.”