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Chapter Nine
Tamsyn
As any modern woman in her right mind would do, she googled Huxley Foster-Webb as soon as she got back to her apartment. Grabbed her laptop, and cracked it open as she plopped down on her couch. And wow, yeah.
She didn’t know that she’d call Huxley Foster-Webb a celebrity—at least not in that pop culture way—but he was kind of a big deal. Or had been? Most of the top search results were about his untimely departure from politics. Article after article about how his family legacy had been disrupted by him having a massive heart attack and, despite a pretty miraculous recovery, not coming back.
She wasn’t all that interested in the punditry, and aside from making sure his politics weren’t anything she found abhorrent, she didn’t care much that he’d been a congressman. She did roll her eyes and feel some residual embarrassment when she found pictures of Huxley and his twin. Yep, there they were. Handsome as hell, and if Huxley weren’t almost always smiling in photographs while Lowell glared, she would’ve been unable to tell them apart. Goodness. Maddie was not even going to believe this when they talked tomorrow.
Despite them being a bunch of the top stories, she’d avoided clicking on any of the articles about his heart attack. He was too young for that, and as far as she could tell, was in good health and had been then too. Maybe it had been something genetic? Some kind of aneurysm or birth defect that had been lurking like a ticking time bomb and just happened to have gone off then?
It made her uncomfortable in a way she couldn’t totally explain. Uneasy. And why? Aside from a professional interest in how to calculate those odds—being an actuary was mostly an exercise in bleakness—it shouldn’t matter much to her. It was over a year ago, he’d recovered, she’d met him in a fetish club, and she was planning to get spanked by him again. That was it. And yet…
She clicked on one of the links to a news story about his heart attack. This one had a video and bile roiled in her stomach. What a way to live. She’d had her fair share of bad days but she’d never had a heart attack, and when she’d had a shitty day it hadn’t made national news. Jesus.
There was something gross about watching the footage, like it was something she shouldn’t be seeing, but could she really just…not watch it? It was spread across the internet for public consumption. And while she’d damn well respect his privacy now, would it maybe be weirder if she didn’t watch it?
That was what she told herself anyway as she pressed play on the embedded video and put it into full screen on her laptop. A message came onscreen, informing her that the following footage would be disturbing to some audience members and that viewer discretion was advised. Which nearly put her off but not quite.
She was a firm believer that information was good, and in the name of science, data, and making fully informed decisions, she was going to watch this. Also screen the footage for Maddie because her BFF was definitely more sensitive than she was.
The clip started with Huxley taking a few questions at the end of what looked like an outdoor press conference until the man she knew to be Lowell stepped in front of the mic and told the crowd the congressman wasn’t taking any further questions. Huxley frowned at his brother—he seemed like he would’ve happily chatted with the press all damn afternoon—but didn’t argue. No, he said his thank yous and waved, smiled.
She had to smile back at the screen because she could see how he’d been good at this. The same easy, charming way that had put her at ease and made her feel flattered that he was paying her mind would probably make reporters and constituents feel the same way. Natural politician. But as he was leaving the podium, something happened.
Huxley’s easy gait stuttered and he lurched to the edge of the temporary dais the podium had been set up on. He clutched his chest with one hand, reached into thin air with the other, and his face drained of color as he staggered.
It was disturbing. No, more than that. It was shocking, and she felt like she was going to be sick as he reeled a few more steps and would’ve taken a dive off the platform if Lowell hadn’t been there to drag him back from the edge and ease him to the floor. Jesus.
It had been alarming to watch Maddie take a tumble off Star while they were taking a riding lesson at Rawhide Ranch, but this might be worse even though it was on a screen. Even though it involved someone she didn’t care about nearly as much as she loved her best friend.
In the video, people already had cellphones out, were presumably calling 911, Lowell was shouting and asking if there was a doctor nearby, and a crowd had gathered around Huxley, mostly blocking him from the passive view of the camera. All she could see was his outstretched hand, and it was sickening. She was by no means a delicate flower, and it wasn’t as though the tape was gory—there was no blood and guts, no bones or vomit in sight—but this footage turned her stomach.
Tamsyn quit the browser so she wouldn’t have to look at the video again, and then slammed her laptop shut before sprinting to the bathroom where she emptied her stomach, retching until there was nothing left. When she was sure she could go at least a couple minutes without gagging, she made a phone call.
* * *
Huxley
He wasn’t in the habit of being a lead foot, but damn if he hadn’t broken the speed limit the entire way here. No regrets. He had no qualms about waking anyone in the building as he knocked loudly on the apartment door, either.
If he’d had any compunction, it would’ve died when he set eyes on her. Even when Shannon had been pissed at him earlier and looking a bit bruised, it didn’t hold a candle to how terrible she looked now. Not that he’d say that. Christ, you never said that to a woman.
But he didn’t have a chance to say anything, because the Shannon who opened the door with red-rimmed eyes and deathly pale skin walked straight into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his middle, buried her face in his chest.
Fuck, oh fuck.
She’d been so upset when she called that he’d had a hard time understanding her but thought he’d pieced it together on the way here.
She’d watched the footage of him collapsing and had been really disturbed by it. He could understand that; it was disturbing. Well, for some people.
For him it was like watching a movie of someone else. Or like he was outside his own body and watching from a distance. Removed from that man.
He’d assumed she would look him up when she got home, and hadn’t thought to warn her. He should have. But even his own family hadn’t been this distraught when they watched it. How could he have known?
He was here now though, and she was squeezing him tightly as if to reassure herself that he was alive and well. Poor thing.
Carefully, he maneuvered them into her apartment and closed the door behind them, and then set to soothing her. She was trembling for god’s sake. And unlike at the club, seemed quite young, and small. He held her close and petted her hair.
