Page 71 of Queen of Ruin

“Which is the reason I asked you here. Rori Colton’s seat will be empty,” I take a deep breath because now that it’s out, now that I’ve said it, I can’t take it back.

“What happened to not caring about politics?”

“Money runs out, but power is evergreen.” I never wanted to be a politician, but the world continues to spin, and with it comes change.

“Or your term is up,” Rausch points out ominously.

“Are you already saying I won’t get re-elected?” I joke.

“Maybe you should have inferred I had confidence that you got elected in the first place.” He raises his eyebrows at me, a hint of playful amusement on his face. This is what he wanted all along. Why shouldn’t he be happy about it? He is the kingmaker after all.

Will he make a king out of me?

Politics is his playground, his pitch, and no one has the track record for wins that he does. If I want to do this, then I need him.

“So you think I have a chance?” I ask, my insecurities coming through, because I am well aware of my past and my present. I’m not a saint, and although everyone has skeletons in their closet, mine are, well, not flattering.

“You have the advantage of being Kerry Walker’s son, and before you accuse me of being callous, I say this putting aside my own personal feelings. Now that he has passed, it gives you a certain advantage with the public. If you’re worried about certain indiscretions, there are things that can be minimized, but nothing that we can’t handle.”

“Are those things Evangeline?” I inquire cautiously.

He shifts in his seat uncomfortably, and I already know the answer.

“What does she say about this?” he asks.

“That’s for me to worry about.”

“If it’s your desire to bring her into this with you, I will do my best to protect her,” he offers shockingly.

My first order of business is to pass the bar, and the rest will come.

“You should warn her about this,” he offers. “Winning an election is nasty business.”

“It’s just Representative for a small district in Virginia.” I shake my head.

“And Barrack Obama was once a senator for the thirteenth district of Illinois.” He levels me with a stare.

“He was a Democrat.” I raise my eyebrows.

He rests his arm against the back of the chair. “Virginia has voted for Democrats in presidential campaigns since 2008, and the only former confederate state to vote for Hillary Clinton over Donald Trump.”

“This is information you just happen to have in your back pocket?” I jest.

He presses his lips together, and then I know. He gathered this information because my father was going to run.

“Well, then that’s good news in my favor,” I broach the subject of party lines.

Rausch smiles, not what I expected since my father was a Republican. I expected him to give me a speech about following in my father’s footsteps and losing voters.

“You’re not disappointed?”

“Only if you lose,” he offers. “But don’t forget that we used to be called the Democratic Republican’s.” There’s a gleam in his eyes.

I nod, sitting back in my chair, and twirling a pen between my fingers.

“I have a favor to ask,” I say with caution, because asking for a favor comes with strings, and it’s those strings that could make me very uncomfortable.

“Of course,” Rausch laughs as if he was waiting for this. He places his hands on either side of the chair, his left hand gripping the edge like the Lincoln Memorial. Rausch might be made with the hardness of marble, but he’s still just a man – and men still have a taste for revenge.

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