Page 80 of Don't Lie to Me

Instead, he looked defeated, and as the Senator’s – or now former Senator’s jaw tightened – I saw the briefest flash of anger and malice he shot towards Marcus. Whose expression didn’t change. Not one single bit.

Marcus may have refused a relationship with his dad, but damn, in that second, I knew how much he had learned growing up a Whitmore and I thanked God that he wasn’t the man his father wanted him to be.

But that realization and thankfulness did nothing to stop the sudden rampage of questions flooding my mind. What in the hell did Jack get on the Senator, that was powerful enough to not only stop the photos of me and him from being released, but caused him to step down from his beloved throne of power midterm?

I was still sitting there, watching the newscasters and political analysts discussing Senator Whitmore’s decision to step down when Logan came out dressed in his pajamas.

“Why was daddy on TV?” he asked, rubbing his eyes and trying to stifle a yawn.

“He was just working, honey.” I scooped Logan up in my arms just as my phone began ringing again. I stopped in the kitchen to see Macy calling.

Assuming she had seen what was on TV as well, I decided to ignore her call until Logan was in bed. I was going to need wine, or something stronger, to talk to her about this.

Senator Whitmore stepping down from his Senate seat, but I didn’t know why. This was huge.

Would this fix things between Jack and I? Did I want it to? Of course I wanted Jack back. But did he have to end a man’s – granted, an asshole of a man – career in order for that to happen between us? Was I worth that?

Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I leaned down and gave Logan a kiss on his temple.

“Come on, buddy. Bedtime.”

“Can I call daddy and tell him I saw him on TV?” He asked with wide-eyed wonder.

Shaking my head again, I carried him down the hall. “He’s busy working. We’ll call him tomorrow. Okay?”

He wrinkled his nose and I pretended to bite it off, causing all sorts of laughter. “Fine.”

“You talk to Marcus, yet?” Macy asked after our initial ‘what-in-the-fuck-did-we-just-we-see’ conversation starters were completed.

I ran a hand through my hair and then took a sip of my wine. Straight from the bottle again. Why dirty a glass when you don’t have to?

“No. Although I thought of calling him.”

“What about Jack?”

“I haven’t heard from him.” I said with a bit sharper tone than I intended. Thankfully, Macy loved me enough to let my slight bitchiness slide.

“I can’t believe Marcus was on stage looking pissed as all get out. It has to have something to do with Jack. Why else would he be standing up there with his dad?”

She was right. To the few of us that knew my connection to Marcus and Jack, it was just a little too slick to have Marcus standing there with his dad like the supportive son, when we all knew how much Marcus despised his dad.

Besides that, even Macy couldn’t deny how much he absolutely adored Logan. If Marcus was standing by his dad’s side, it was all for show. It had to do with protecting Logan at the very least.

“I don’t know,” I said with my voice trailing off and staring off out the windows.

“What happened last night at the club? You never told me.”

I snorted. “That’s because you couldn’t remove your mouth from Tate’s face long enough to take a breath, much less have a conversation.”

“I know, I know…I’m such a slut with my fiancé. But we already knew that, so tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. He came over, got pissed that Dean was touching me and kicked me out.” And told me there were some photos of us having sex on top of one of his hotels.

“That’s it?” She asked doubtfully.

My face flushed as I thought about the way he touched me. His strong hands on my hips when he pulled me to him when Dean had walked away and he whispered roughly into my ear about the photos and the desire I saw in his eyes when he pushed me back away. His eyes roamed and drank in every inch of my body. I could almost watch his struggle to stop himself from unraveling my silly braids and messing them up in his hands the way he always did when he played with my hair.

“You gonna answer me?” Macy’s laughter brought me back to reality and I forced another swig of cheap red wine down my throat.

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