I just hope I have another chance to prove it.
I pick up my phone and dial Graham. He answers immediately.
“I didn’t find her yet,” he says, forgoing a hello.
“You know,” I say, “I’m tired.”
“Tired of what?”
“Of everything. I’m sitting here thinking about all the things I want to do in my life, and yeah, I’m on the path to get some of them accomplished. But if I get in office where I can actually do those things and I’m set up so I can’t, what’s the point?”
“You’re talking about the Land Bill?”
“Among other things. There’s a chance I could lose Alison over this,” I say, holding a breath.
He sighs. “She told Lincoln she just needed a little bit of time. Don’t panic. We’ll find her.”
“I know we will. But that doesn’t mean she’ll consider me a good enough prize to risk everything she’s giving up to be with me.”
“You aren’t a prize. That’s your first mistake,” he says.
“Fuck off, Graham.”
He laughs harder and I eke out a smile.
“What are you getting at, Barrett?”
I take my shoes off the table, something my mother would have a fit about if she could see me, and stand. “I’m saying I’m tired of doing everything the way I should or the way I’m told to. If I’m going to do this—politics, campaigns, relationships—I want to do it on my own terms. I want to do it my way and then, you know, I sink or swim on my own laurels.”
He doesn’t answer, probably thinking I’ve been drinking.
“I’m not drunk.”
“No, I know that.” He pauses and exhales. “Okay. I agree. Let’s do things your way. It’s your career, your life to fuck up if that’s what happens. So what do you want to do?”
“Schedule a press conference for me tomorrow. Early.”
“Me? I don’t have the contacts for that, Barrett.”
“Call my publicist and Rose. They’ll get the word out. I want to go on record first thing.”
“Are you absolutely sure? You do realize this conference has the potential of doing more harm than good, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, I know. But if I lose this election based on who I am, then did I want it to start with?”
Graham sucks in a breath. “What about Alison? I mean, depending on what you say, there’s a chance you could lose her over this too.”
A grin touches my lips. “Someone told me to believe in myself. So I’m going to set the record straight on everything and . . . hope it all works out.”
“If you’re sure.”
Before I can reply, my phone buzzes. I pull it away to see Alison’s name. My heart stops. “Ali is calling.” I don’t bother saying goodbye, knowing he understands, and try to ignore the pounding in my chest as I click over. “Alison?”
The line is quiet. No response.
“Alison, talk to me, baby,” I plead, my heart jumping to my throat.
“It’s me. Huxley.”
I spin in a circle, confused. “Hux? Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Is your mom there, buddy?”
“Yeah.”
His voice is steady, strong, yet a little nervous. I have to calm the fuck down if I’m going to get anywhere with him.
“I’ve called you guys a few times tonight,” I say. “I couldn’t get through.”
“Mom’s phone was dead and it’s been on the charger since we got here.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
I pull the phone away from my face and take a deep breath. I can’t start barking orders, demanding shit. I have to walk a fine line. “Are you okay, Huxley? Is your mom okay?”
He doesn’t answer me again. The line is quiet. I hear a television on in the background, but no other voices.
“Hux?”
“You made her cry.”
My heart splinters, my shoulders slumping at his words. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You told me you wouldn’t.”
I pull the phone away and mutter a few profanities under my breath. How can a simple statement from a child make me feel like a kid myself?
“Sometimes,” I start, my voice shakier than I’d like, “adults do things they don’t mean to, just like kids do. But Huxley, I promised you, I would never make her cry on purpose and I didn’t. Right now I’m at the Farm, where you played ball with Linc, remember? And I’m worried sick about you and your mom. If you tell me where you are, I’ll come and get you. I’ll make things okay.”
“I can’t tell you because I know she doesn’t want you to know. And . . . I have to protect her.”
I bite down on my bottom lip. “Yes, you do. And if you feel like you have to protect her from me, I’m not going to argue with you. Because if there’s one thing in this life I want you to know, it’s to trust your gut.” I squeeze my eyes shut and wish to God I had taken my own advice sooner. “Don’t let anyone tell you what to do or how to feel, okay?”
“Okay.” He gets quiet, his little breath firing through the phone. “Barrett?” he asks, his voice unsure.
“Yeah, buddy?”