“Why,” Samuel asked again, his stooped shoulders and defeated expression ripping apart Jamie’s guts as his father looked toward him for answers he didn’t have to give. “This is all related. Isn’t it? Kosamina? The shootings? The assassination of the VP? This is all a part of something bigger, something sinister, right?”
Jamie swallowed the lump in his throat and gave voice to the suspicions tearing his world apart. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Jesus Christ! I had no idea. I mean, I knew things were getting bad. Too many guns. Too many people suffering. Too few mental health and social assistance programs. But this? Slaughtering citizens in the streets for political gain. Killing the only hope this country had for social reform. This is what you’ve been trying to prevent? In the military, as part of the JTT, this is what you’ve been fighting against?”
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry, Jamie. I didn’t know. I should have paid more attention. Asked more questions. Been more aware.”
“You weren’t supposed to know. To protect ourselves and the people we love, the JTT, and organizations like it, operate under the protection of secrecy. Total anonymity. It’s supposed to keep us alive and our families from being targeted. A few decent men and women, standing up to defend our rights and freedoms as Americans so the masses don’t have to. We sacrifice so others can do good. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much good left in the world, and we’re fucking outnumbered by the bad guys one hundred to one.”
“This is a nightmare,” Samuel said, his gaze swinging back to the TV. “Total anarchy.”
“I’m sorry,” Jamie replied, reaching for the bottle of Tylenol on the night table. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.” He popped the top, tapped out a couple of pills, and swallowed them without water.
“You didn’t drag me. I volunteered. Besides, you’re my son, and I wanted to help you.”
“And get a chance to make up for all those years of being a shitty father?”
“Yes, that too.” Samuel looked Jamie in the eyes. “I know I can’t turn back the clock or erase the past, but I can hope for a chance to have a better relationship with you in the future.”
Jamie waved his hand at the TV screen. “Not sure how much future is left.”
“So what do we do?”
“There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothinganyof us can do. Go to London. Take care of Mom. Teach. Pass on your knowledge to the next generation, and hope they get it right. Live every day like it’s your last because you never know when it will be.”
“What about you? What will you do?”
A thirst for vengeance swept through Jamie’s chest, the hum of the heating unit background noise to the riot of violent thoughts tumbling through his head. He wanted to kill them all. Jonas Johnson. His financial backers. The already dead gunmen. He wanted to make them bleed until his hands were stained red and blood covered him from head to toe.
He wanted revenge. For Ko. The baby. The VP. The hundred and twenty-three dead. He wanted it so fucking bad his mouth had gone sour with the taste of it. But first things first, he needed to get his ass out of this bed.
Then he needed to make the phone call he’d been avoiding for days.
* * *
Her stomach hollowfor multiple reasons, Summer sat across from Mrs. Bloomsberry a day later than she’d originally planned. After the assassination of the vice president on Sunday, most businesses in Flathead County remained closed on Monday, including the Reliable Nannies Agency she worked for.
“I’m sorry, Summer. I wish I had better news for you. Unfortunately, I have half a dozen others waiting for positions, and no clients looking to hire anyone before the holidays. And because Governor Wagner fired you with cause, I’m afraid you don’t qualify for unemployment insurance.” Mrs. Bloomsberry signed the check in front of her, ripped it out of the book, and handed it across the desk.
Unable to process any more bad news, she reached for the slip of paper. It weighed nothing, yet her hand dropped to her lap, the effort to hold her arm in the air too much to sustain for any length of time.
She didn’t even bother to look at the amount written. It wasn’t enough.
Summer would be homeless by Christmas.
“Send me your updated resume, and if anything comes up in the new year, I’ll add you to the referral list. Keep in mind, however, without a recommendation from your last employer, finding a new nanny position might prove to be difficult.”
Of course it would.
She shook her head at her own foolishness and transferred the check to her purse.
Not wanting to jeopardize her employment, she hadn’t reported John Wagner’s behavior to anyone. If she tried to defend herself now, she’d look like someone who made up stories in retaliation for being fired.
With nothing left to discuss, Mrs. Bloomsberry stood and came around her desk to escort Summer to the door. “Keep your phone handy. If anything unexpected pops up, I’ll send a group text. In the meantime, you should head over to the Job Service Center. They’ll have some resources you can take advantage of.”
“Thanks,” Summer replied, sliding her arms through the sleeves of her coat while trying to figure out how to pay her phone bill with no income. She had the cheapest pay-as-you-go mobile plan available, but twenty dollars a month meant one less night with a roof over her head. One less week of groceries. One less tank of gas.
