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Both of their voices were beginning to rise in level and Jamie was seriously fighting back tears, fighting the urge to run.
“You know damn well that I would not be this upset if you’d just come to me with it, James,” she replied. “There is a Middle Eastern crisis going on right now, and I’ve had to leave my vice president to deal with it becauseIhave to deal withthisinstead. You are suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder on two separate levels—you are vulnerable and emotionally compromised and you’re still just desperate to see the good in everybody, even if that destroys you. I cannot forgive Chris Roberts for taking advantage of you in this state.”
“He didn’tknow, mom!” Jamie yelled. “It was your decision not to tell him about Reiss—he can’t be blamed for that.”
“He can still be blamed for fucking my son six ways from Sunday when he was supposed to keep his goddamned dick to himself!”
Jamie went still. He was sure that his palms were bleeding from where his fingernails were digging in so sharply. He started to back up. “I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered, half to himself.
“Jamie…”
“I can’t…” his voice broke, and he turned on his heel and fled, grabbing a set of car keys from the dish in the hallway.
Jamie didn’t even think about what he was doing as he ran from the house, unlocking his Aston Martin, jumping in, and turning the key in the ignition, screeching down the gravel driveway. He just knew that he had to get away.
* * * *
Chris hurtled down the stairs after Natalie to find the president in tears, standing in the middle of the living room and alone.
“Where is he?” Chris asked, panicked. “Did he take a car?”
President Barratt nodded, unable to speak, or at least if she was, she was unable to speak to Chris.
He grasped Natalie by the elbow and pulled her to the door. “Come on.”
“You want to go after him?” Natalie asked. “We don’t even know where he’s gone!”
Chris flung open the door of a waiting Secret Service car and slid into the passenger side. Natalie would have to drive—he didn’t think he could concentrate with being so frantically worried.
“I’m willing to bet my life that he’s heading for his aunt’s house,” he replied as Natalie got in and started the engine. They screeched away.
“I guess that makes sense,” Nat said. “They’ve always been really close.”
“She knows about us and she’s supportive. If there is anybody he can turn to right now, it’ll be Helen.”
Natalie turned sharply at the end of the driveway, the car skidding as she didn’t even bother with the brakes, and then she floored the accelerator. How she expected the black Mercedes to catch up with Jamie’s supercar, Chris would never know, but he still hung on for dear life as the car reached one hundred and ten miles an hour.
They had to catch up with him, had to get him to pull over. Chris wasn’t even thinking of himself right now, or his relationship with Jamie, or how everything was in tatters—he cared only about finding him and making sure he was safe.
Jamie’s feet had been beaten and broken with sticks over three months in Afghanistan and they would never completely heal. Chris knew how fast they started to hurt, limiting Jamie to a slow, short distance jog in the mornings, leaving him unable to stand for long periods of time. It may not ever be safe for him to drive again, but there he was taking off in one of the fastest cars on the planet with his broken feet at risk of cramping up, of shooting pains causing him to lose control and crash. Chris only hoped they would catch up to him in time.
* * * *
Jamie was halfway down the road before he realized that this had been a bad idea. He was crying so hard that he could barely see, his chest so tight that it caused him physical pain.
This whole thing had been a disaster. He didn’t even know how it had come to this, just that he was about to lose the most important thing in his life, the only thing keeping him grounded, keeping him sane. In four weeks, Chris had changed his life, and now it was all crumbling because Jamie couldn’t wait one fucking hour until his mother was safely on Air Force One and heading back to Washington.
He choked back a sob and somehow managed to one-handedly pull his phone from his jeans pocket, plugging it into the jack as he hurtled down the road before dialing a number.
It rang four times before it picked up. “Hello, sweetie!”
“Mom knows,” Jamie burst out the second he heard his aunt’s voice. “She was on her way to DC but came back to get her cell phone and she caught us.”
Aunt Helen was quiet for a second. “Caught you, as in gently caressing each other’s faces, or caught you as in fucking each other’s brains out?”
“The second one.”
“Fuck,” Aunt Helen muttered. “Where are you, honey?”
