Fixer: A Bad Boy Romance (20 page)

Alicia sank down onto the chair across from the couch where he sat, her eyes brimming with tears. "No," she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

"Alicia, I'm sorry," Tanner said wretchedly, knowing that the words were a band-aid slapped over a fatal wound. "I know that I broke the truce, that you didn't expect this-"

But she just looked back at him, and he hated the expression that he saw on her face. He'd been prepared for anger, sorrow, frustration, maybe even rage. He'd expected her to start throwing things, maybe wreck his apartment as she stormed out.

Instead, however, she looked disappointed, but not surprised. Almost as if-

"I should have expected this," she said, almost inaudibly. "I kept waiting for it, in the back of my head. A little part of me hoped that you'd be different, that I'd prove myself wrong."

She stood up, brushed at her knees as if dusting off a little bit of invisible dirt. "But I was right."

And that was it.

No yelling. No breaking things, no angry insults or accusations. Tanner almost wished that she'd yell, that she'd get her anger out, that she'd attack him for destroying what would have been the first big accomplishment of her career. A career that he had just confessed that he was doing his best to kill.

But Alicia didn't say anything. Not even goodbye. She just turned and slowly, almost emotionlessly, left his apartment. She didn't even slam the door behind her; it just closed softly, noiselessly, leaving no trace of her behind.

All that remained of her was the faintest trace of her perfume, floating in the air for a few seconds before dissipating.

Tanner didn't get up from the couch. His head still buzzed with the after-effects of the drinks he'd consumed earlier that evening, but he doubted that he could choke down another swallow. His stomach already roiled, angry at him, not understanding why this stress and self-hate had emerged so suddenly.

He finally grasped the sides of the sofa and hauled himself up to his feet - and then immediately sprinted for his bathroom. His stomach lurched, rejected its contents, and he barely made it to his knees in front of his toilet before the first heaves began.

Fitting, he thought darkly to himself as he purged the last couple of drinks from his system.

Chapter Twenty-Two

*

The next morning, the sunlight stabbed into Tanner's eyes like daggers, even through his closed eyelids. He turned and growled, trying to pull his pillow over his head to block out those rays - but the movement made his stomach heave, and he froze in place as he struggled to maintain control.

After the queasiness passed, at least for the moment, he slowly sat up, reaching up to wipe away some of the crustiness that clung to his eyelids. He felt like a similar crust had formed over his tongue, drying out his mouth and making him gag. He pulled himself up to his feet, swayed for a moment, and then staggered for the bathroom to scrub his tongue with his toothbrush.

After scraping his tongue off, he looked up into the mirror across from his sink. He scarcely recognized the face that stared back at him - pale, drawn, fine lines starting to betray his age. He tried to put on a smile, but it just made him look even more like he belonged in a coffin, front and center in a funeral ceremony.

"You're a dumbass," Tanner croaked to his reflection. The reflection just nodded, in full agreement.

He knew what he needed to do today. This morning - in just a couple of hours, in fact - the Senate would meet, and the vote for the American Quality Education Bill would be called. There would be some discussion, most of it pointing out issues with the bill, why everyone should vote against it.

Alicia Stone, of course, would do her best to mount a strong defense of the bill, arguing for why it was not only advisable, but necessary for America to improve the quality of education that it offered.

It wouldn't be enough. Speeches made great sound bites for the news networks to play that evening, but just about every Senator in the chamber would have already made up his or her mind - either based off of their own beliefs, what a more senior member instructed them to think, or based off of the corporation that helped fill their campaign war chest coffers. Her speech would earn applause from everyone - and change the minds of no one.

And then, just as Tanner wanted, the bill would die, failing to be passed.

He'd earn his pay, keep on maintaining his extravagant lifestyle, his luxury apartment, his oversized bank account balance, keep his memberships to all of the elite Republican clubs and keep on paying off the big bar tabs he racked up at them. He'd once again prove that he was the best fixer the RNC owned, that he could pull off political feats unmatched by the efforts of anyone else.

Still staring into the eyes of his wan and haggard reflection as it stared back at him, Tanner couldn't even begin to feel the slightest bit of pride in his accomplishment.

He got dressed, did his best to fix his appearance. He shaved off the stubble that coated his cheeks and jawline, but his lack of focus added several little cuts to his features. He cursed and blotted them with tissue paper.

Tanner looked through his walk-in closet, trying to decide between all of the identical appearing suits. Eventually, he grabbed one at random. Despite being individually tailored for his body, at great expense, it felt loose on him. He tied the necktie, tugged it roughly into place, and then left the apartment.

He'd woken up late, and the speeches by various Senators were already well underway by the time that he stepped into the visitor's gallery. Mounted on the upper floor and overlooking the Senate chambers, Tanner at least felt like he could hide in the back of the visitors area, avoid being spotted by anyone downstairs.

But then, just as he started to relax in one of the seats towards the rear, he heard a high, strong voice cut through the dim chatter in the chamber.

Alicia's voice.

As if pulled by invisible puppeteer's strings, Tanner leaned forward. Sure enough, he saw Alicia, standing tall and defiant behind the podium, her eyes roving out over the assembled senators in the chamber.

"We need this bill," she insisted, blinking. Tanner peered closer, and sure enough, there were tiny tears glimmering at the corners of her eyes. "Please, I beg of you, take a moment and put personal politics aside. There are many little petty fights that are always in play here, but this is a bill that transcends those quarrels. Don't think about your party, or your own personal agenda, or how this bill might not contain a project for your district.

"Instead," she continued, her hands gripping the side of the podium so tightly that her knuckles were almost pure white, "think about what this can do for our future. For our future as a nation, for our children. Schools all across the country cry out desperately for our help, and we have the power to do incalculable good for them. Please, please vote for this bill. Vote for a strong education for our children."

And then, before Tanner could pull back from where he leaned over the gallery, before he could retreat out of sight, Alicia looked up directly at him.

He couldn't take it. Clumsy, ignoring the murmurs of distaste from the other visitors sitting around him, Tanner dragged himself out of his seat. He staggered for the door, needing to get out, to get away.

Behind him, Tanner heard the Senate Majority Leader take the microphone, beginning the process of calling the bill to a vote. He knew that he ought to stick around and make sure that the bill didn't pass, but he couldn't bear to be here for even a second longer.

As soon as he'd locked eyes with Alicia, he'd felt his heart break anew in his chest, and he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, what he'd lost.

He loved her.

That realization slammed into him like a sledgehammer to the chest, nearly stopping his heart from beating. The physical force of that realization propelled him up out of his seat, halfway to the exit from the visitors viewing area, before he even realized that he was moving. He managed to get out into the hallway, where he slumped over, his head pressing against the cool stone of the wall.

He loved her. Almost like a blind man exploring an open wound, Tanner mentally explored this realization, sitting like a stone in the middle of his brain. He didn't know how it had appeared, coming out of nowhere, but it sat there, solid as bedrock.

He loved her. This wasn't lust, wasn't just a crush, wasn't like any of his previous relationships. Tanner could practically hear Alicia's voice inside his head, laughing as she called him a dumbass, pointing out that he should have realized this earlier, back before-

-before he fucked it all up, before he lost her forever.

And when Alicia looked up at him, during that frozen moment of time in the Senate chamber, he'd seen in her eyes that she had loved him too, once. Now that he saw it, recognized it in himself, he knew that she'd loved him for longer than he'd realized, back when they were still together, from that moment that their bodies had first come together.

She'd loved him, and then he threw it all away, destroyed that love, stomped on it and reduced it to nothing by betraying her.

Still leaning against the wall, trying to even breathe normally, Tanner nearly jumped a foot in the air as his phone started buzzing. He pulled it out, held it to his ear, just breathing into the receiver.

"Tanner?" Pribus. "Hey, buddy, you there?"

"Yeah," Tanner ground out.

"Amazing! I don't know how you pulled it off, but you're still definitely the best. I'll admit, I had a bit of doubt about your success with this one. I know, I shouldn't have doubted your skills, but I'll confess that I did. And then you go and prove to me that you've still got it, why you deserve to be on my speed dial list." Pribus sounded ecstatic. He babbled on some more, but Tanner tuned out these words.

Finally, perhaps realizing that Tanner wasn't replying to any of his compliments and praise, Pribus stopped. "Hey, son, you okay? You haven't said anything for a while, now. I would have expected that you'd already be out celebrating!"

Tanner opened his mouth, not sure what would come out. "Pribus, I need a break."

"Hey, of course! What are you thinking? Mexico? Maybe Vietnam? You know, the RNC has a private jet that we keep sitting around, all fueled up and ready to go, but I'm pretty sure that it's sitting idle at the moment. I've heard some great things about Spain, really cheap right now, and the girls are to die for-"

"Not a vacation," Tanner cut him off. "I'm taking a break from working for you. From doing these jobs."

"These jobs?"

"Politics. Fixing things. Chasing the party's goals, just crushing whatever innovation people want because it doesn't sit with your own greedy ideals," Tanner spat out, anger bubbling through his veins. He straightened up from where he'd been slumping against the wall, his voice climbing in volume. A couple other visitors, exiting from the Senate chamber and wearing disappointed expressions (apparently, they'd been rooting for the education bill to pass) glared at him but he just stared back until they dropped their gazes.

"Tanner, we have other goals to help-"

"No," he cut the other man off. "No more fixing things to go our way. No more forcing people to vote the way we want."

Pribus took a deep breath. "You know that the other side does this, too, don't you? This isn't just us. Everyone does this."

"But that doesn't make it right," Tanner said, so softly that he wasn't sure if Pribus even heard him.

Pribus stopped talking after that, however, and the silence stretched on, the phone's connection crackling a little as the heavy stone surroundings blocked some of the signal. At least, Tanner thought dimly to himself, the man didn't wheedle away at him, trying to convince him to change his mind.

Finally, Pribus cleared his throat, spoke up again. "Can I ask why?"

Tanner took a deep breath, let it out. "Because I just realized what this is costing me."

On the other end of the line, Pribus started to say something else, but Tanner hung up on him, not even listening. Dropping his phone back in his pocket, he turned and headed out of the Capitol, back to his apartment to pack.

He didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't stay here. Not with the memories of Alicia, the realization that he'd lost the best thing that had ever happened to him, all around him.

He'd go to the airport, decide there, he said to himself. He'd get on the first flight out of there, no matter where it might be headed. Alaska, maybe, or Washington or Oregon. Someplace far away, someplace that wouldn't ever bring him near Colorado, or Alicia, ever again.

He had enough money in his bank account to last him a while. He'd maybe find a new job, or just do nothing. He'd always wanted to work at a small business somewhere - he was shit at using his hands for anything coordinated, but perhaps he could serve as a manager. Or perhaps he ought to go into sales.

He was, after all, good with people. Black humor surfaced briefly in his mind. Even if people didn't want to be convinced, he seemed to always know the right buttons to push in order to manipulate them.

It destroyed relationships, friendships, but he got what he wanted.