24. Radley

TWENTY-FOU R

RADLEY

There are only a handful of people who know what it's like to be summoned to the Oval Office. Let me tell you, it's not fun.

Even though I knew why I was being summoned, and I knew I'd done nothing wrong, I still couldn't stop the cold flush of fear churning through me that I was about to be put through the wringer. Being called to the Oval Office meant I was seeing The President, not my mom.

If I was seeing my mom, I'd have gone straight to the Residence, taken a Diet Coke out of the fridge, and pulled up one of the kitchen chairs. Or maybe taken my time, going via my bedroom and changing into sweats and hanging out with Mr. Snuggles first.

I wouldn't have entered via the West Wing lobby, passed by the two g iant Christmas trees and the Roosevelt Room, and stopped at the outer Office of the President.

"Hey, Michael."

My mom's executive secretary looked up from the filing cabinet, and smiled. "Radley, how are you? You can go in, The President's waiting."

"How's her mood?"

"She's always in a good mood when she sees you."

Michael never failed to make me laugh. "You should play poker with those lying skills."

My hand paused on the doorknob. I'd spent the entire journey – all fifteen minutes of it – going over and over how I expected our conversation to go. I was ninety-nine percent sure I knew what my mom was going to say, and over my dead body was it going to happen.

I'd spent the last month doing more to reclaim my independence than I had in the last two years. It was not going to be taken from me.

I took a deep breath, and turned the knob.

Here goes nothing, Radley. Don't back down.

I walked in.

Fuck was my first thought. She wasn't alone.

My dad, and Special Agent Rob Heynes, the head of my mom's detail, were sitting on the couches set off the center of the room. My mom sat next to my dad. I assumed she thought the couches would be less intimidating than being at her desk; more cozy, more casual.

They weren't.

"Hi, Sweetie," she greeted, standing up and rushing over, halting right before she pulled me into a hug. "Oh my God, look at your hand… Michael," she yelled through the still open door, " can we get the medic in here?"

I snatched my hand back. "I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with my hand. Lux treated it."

"Radley, it's bruised and cut," she replied, in a tone she rarely used with me; stern, firm, not one to be messed with. Her hand stayed on my back as she guided me to sit, like she was afraid I might bolt. Let me tell you, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. "Come and sit down, please. We need to talk with you."

When we moved in, my mom had the Oval Office re-decorated. The walls changed from yellow to pale blue, and she'd asked for my input in the furniture. I'd wanted cream and navy striped couches because they looked chic, and made me think of Paris for no other reason than it was somewhere I'd always wanted to visit. I'd sat on this couch dozens of times, but it had always been on quick visits, when I was dropping in to say hi. I'd never really properly looked around.

The Oval Office; the epicenter of America's political landscape.

Long cream drapes bordered each window, and for the eleven months of the year when the Christmas tree wasn't in the corner, a pair of matching striped wingback chairs were positioned against the wall. A third large leather chair stood behind my mom's desk; The Resolute Desk, made from the timber of H.M.S. Resolute, immediately taking me back to that first date with Lux at Asher's bookstore.

The day I'd spent an hour deciding what to wear and changed my clothes three times.

I'd been so nervous I'd wanted to bail. But just like he still did, he put me at ease immediately. He quieted the voices in my head, and the storm raging in my belly. He made me laugh. He bolstered my confidence and instilled a sense of self-belief I'd never had before .

Three frames sat on the desk. Even though they were turned away, I knew what was in them; a photo of my mom and dad, a photo of the five of us and Mr. Snuggles on our vacation in Yellowstone, and one of Ben, Henry, and me. While the rest of her personal photos were on the curved table against the back wall, she kept those three on her desk ‘as a reminder of how she got to the White House' she'd said, when I asked one day why she hadn't put them with the rest of the pictures.

"Hi, baby." My dad stood up, kissing my cheek. "Sit next to me."

I sat, and waited. And waited some more. "Well, who's going first then?"

"Radley…" My dad's tone held just as much warning as my mom's had.

"What? I know why I'm here, except I also don't know why I'm here. I don't know why Lux isn't here too, seeing as he was with me, and we were all supposed to be having a family dinner tonight."

I didn't appreciate the way my mom looked at my dad before she focused on me. "We thought it was better to talk to you alone. That's not to say we won't meet Lux another day, but after what happened today…" she trailed off.

"You mean when I was in the lobby of the Four Seasons where Christopher Ellington happened to notice me, and Lux stepped in."

"Then how did you end up punching him?" she shot back. "Not to mention where were your agents? Someone could have seen you; someone could have videoed you again."

"Jake and Ethan were right there with me, and I punched him because he deserved it."

"Radley, you can't go around punching people. "

"Christopher Ellington isn't people," I snarled, biting back the tears of injustice thickening my throat. "He's a piece of shit who nearly destroyed my life, and violated my privacy in the worst possible way. What happened this morning was the culmination of nearly two years of anger, hurt, and betrayal."

"I know, Radley. I know," she snapped back. "I was the one holding you every night when you cried yourself to sleep or woke up with nightmares. Don't think I don't remember."

I took a breath; a deep, heavy, painful breath, because carrying the knowledge of the hurt I'd caused them still made my bones ache. But I also knew that I was trying my best, and trying my best meant no longer hiding.

"We don't want you to ever be put in that position again. We don't want him, or anyone, getting close enough to provoke you."

I found myself tugging on Holiday's clover. "Mom, nothing happened. He wasn't some random guy, there was a reason he came up to me."

Agent Heynes leaned forward. "Special Agent Riley said you handled yourself very well."

"Thank you," I replied and gestured toward him. "See? I can handle myself."

My mom's eyes flicked to his and back to me. "Radley, because of my job you're a prominent face. People know what you look like, and they know where you are. Protecting you from it is the only thing I have in my power. It's frat boys today, but it could be extremists tomorrow."

"Mom…" I begged, knowing exactly where this was leading. It was a car crash, and no matter how hard I pumped on the breaks, I knew I was about to go headfirst into a brick wall.

"I'm going to increase your protection. "

"No! Mom, No. I have enough. I don't need more. Four in the day, four when I sleep. I agreed on eight if you let me go to Columbia. I'm supposed to be getting my life back."

"Your life , Radley. I'm not negotiating with you on keeping you safe. I want you safe."

"There's a difference between safe and suffocated!" I wailed, so close to the angry, rage-filled tears which were bursting their banks that I almost couldn't see straight. "This is so unfair. You're not doing this to Ben while he's still in school, and what about Henry?"

"They haven't been through what you've been through!" she argued back. "And now you're dating a baseball player…"

"Lux, mom. His name is Lux. You know that. You've seen him play."

"I know." Her reply came through gritted teeth, and from the way she was pausing before she spoke, I could tell she was on the verge of losing it. But I didn't care. I'd already lost it. "My point is, you're with someone who's also well known. You're out in public more, and the two of you are being photographed. All month long there have been photos of you; ice skating, at lunch, out with Millie..."

"People are always going to take photos of me."

My dad held his hands up, doing his best to cut through the tension building in the room and stopping me from interrupting, or erupting as was more likely.

"Radley, we're not saying you can't go out. We're saying that the more you do, the more people will see you. And we," he waved his hand around the room, "don't want what happened today to happen again."

I shook my head; they didn't get it.

How could they possibly understand how stifling this life was that I never asked for? I wanted to hand it all back. I wanted to be free to make my own mistakes without the world knowing. I'd done everything that had been asked of me, and it still wasn't enough.

"You know what? This entire semester, all I've done is dodge frat boy after frat boy. I've held my tongue, I've stayed in, I've hidden, I've taken back exits from restaurants. I've avoided being out in public too much, I've behaved. And now I've met someone I want to spend my spare time with, and I don't want to do it by hiding behind a protective wall." I glared at my mom, but she wasn't budging. I knew that look on her face, and finally the hot, angry tears dropped out of me; big, fat, wet tears splashing on the White House carpet with the Seal of the President. "This is total bullshit."

"We just want to keep you safe," my dad repeated.

Drawing my sleeve across my face to dry it as best I could, I stood up. I was calling time on this conversation. Someone had to, or we'd be going around and around all night long. "Well, you'll have to do it from New York. I'm not staying here."

I didn't look back as I marched out, ignoring both my parents calling after me, but I was going too fast for their voices to carry for long.

"I take it we're going to the Four Seasons?" asked Jake, who'd been waiting outside, and jogged to keep up with me.

"Yup."

It was only as I burst though the West Wing doors and into the freezing cold did I realize I'd forgotten my jacket. I wasn't going back for it; it would stay with the rest of my things I'd left there.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself pulled against Lux's chest, the solid wall of muscle that gave me nothing but comfort, and listened to the sigh of relief at being back together. I eased away, taking in his tousled hair, making it clear he'd done nothing but pull on the ends since I'd left him an hour ago.

"Well?" he asked.

"Can you take me back to New York, please?"