First Comes Love

There’s a pause. I hear him sigh and shuffle some papers in the other room and slowly get up and walk down the hardwood floors till he comes to the hallway.

"You sure?" he asks with a pained expression. "It’s only going to get uglier."

I shake my head. "I don’t care how ugly everyone else gets," I tell him. "I didn’t get into politics to start throwing people under the bus."

John nods. "You’re a good man, Liam," he says to me as he walks out the door. He pauses and looks at me. "Maybe too good for this game."

I close the door and take a sip of the scotch I’m still holding. I got home to take this meeting with John and decided midway through that I needed a drink. I just didn’t want to deal with the level of fucking bullshit that saving myself was going to entail.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? I could maybe save myself. Throw some people under the bus. Owe a few favors.

But then what? Someone else would come knocking looking to get back at me for fucking over their friends. Like a fucking vendetta. And someone I owed favors to would collect. And I’d be building more fucking alliances and spend even more time protecting my fucking back.

This is what our politicians do all fucking day. No wonder shit is so fucked up.

But I mean, am I any different? Sure, I came into this job determined to help people. I didn’t want these people in New Kingston to keep going on with their lives without someone hearing their voices. Because it’s one thing to be poor in America; this country still gives you the chance if you want to pull your shit together and make a living somehow to give your kids a better life.

But it’s another thing to be powerless and voiceless in a fucking democracy. When no one can hear your voice calling out in pain, no one is going to stop doing it.

But once you’re heard, you’re 90% of the way there.

Maybe I could have done things differently is all I mean, you know? Maybe I was being just like the people I’m complaining about when I sat there and told the press that if Carter had a problem with the factories he could just fuck off.

Why the fuck did I do that? Because he stopped on the way to the city to tell a small town mayor what to do? Because he made me feel small—that he fucking owned me—and I wanted to show him?

And Tina Ling. Why couldn’t I just go and come out and let people know what was going on with her? How she was trying to fucking bribe me, and maybe even fuck me. Oh, right. Because I was worried what Vivian would think. But it all came out in the end anyways, didn’t it? Now everything is fucked up.

But it doesn’t have to stay like that, I think.

What? You think it can’t get any worse, right? I bet you’re even wondering how we could ever get to a HEA from here.

Well, I don’t know the answer to the second question. Or even the first.

But I do know that Carter and I were on the cusp of something close. We had something worked out almost. But we let it all fall to shit.

I think I know how I can bring it back again. No, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you. You’ll find out soon enough.

Don’t give me that look. Just know that it’s going to be fixed soon. And no, I won’t tell you even if you suck my cock, so please don’t fucking try it, babe.

I head once more from the library where I was sitting and finishing my scotch to the hallway where I open the door.

I need to get to New York City where I can find Carter and Vivian.

I open the door.

That’s when I see Carter walking up the steps to the deck that leads to my front door.

His motorcade is quietly waiting for him in my driveway.

"We need to talk, Liam," Carter says. "I think we need to figure out a way to fix this now that they’ve started attacking Vivian."

I nod. And smile—slightly.

"I’m willing to work with you if it means protecting Vivian," I say to him. I mean it.

I was angry at Carter for talking down at me. But I can’t let anger cloud the…love…I feel for her.

"I think I would agree if you said, ‘We’re going to make those fuckers sorry they ever fucking bothered to fuck with us’," Carter says with a smile.