mister speaker//hs
  • Reads 79
  • Votes 9
  • Parts 9
  • Time 1h 12m
  • Reads 79
  • Votes 9
  • Parts 9
  • Time 1h 12m
Ongoing, First published Apr 09, 2020
"Mr. Speaker, we need to go. Now."  Martin says, I can see the fear in his eyes even though he isn't supposed to show it. 
I stand frozen, but my mind is racing. My service detail is buzzing around me, but I feel like they are moving in slow motion. Martin grabs files off of my desk and tugs my arm. 
"We have to go." He says quietly, but urgently in my ear. 
I struggle to make a coherent thought, my mind is fixed on one thing. One person. 
"Heidi. I'm not going anywhere without Heidi." I mutter words for the first time in the last 10 minutes. 
"We will find her sir, but we have to get you out of here." He assures me. 
I'm rushed out of the office and into the suburban parked out back. 
Within seconds of shoving me into the back seat we are speeding down side streets towards the safe house. 
The ringing of Martin's phone breaks the silence in the car. 
"This is Agent Martin," he answers. There is a voice on the other end that I can't make out. "Okay, yes I will tell him." He ends the call and turns to me, his face pale in shock.
He clears his throat, "Sir, as of now, you are the acting President of the United States. The justice will be at the White House to swear you in. There will be a.."
He continues to talk, but I can't hear him. Maybe I've chosen not to listen. President? Oh god, I don't want this. I swallow the lump in my throat. 

What the hell is happening? 

au

mature content
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*May be triggering to some readers* "Ah, but what if Niall knew you were hiding something from him, something that puts him in danger," he has a point all of them are in danger but if I keep my mouth shut, they'll be safe. "You dare tell Niall about those texts. I'll kill you myself," I've never been a person to throw threats around, but i had to do something. He takes a step closer to me, only a few inches between our bodies now. "Oh, you're a murderer now, I see," he chuckles to himself, his chest rising up and down slowly, like he's the most relaxed person on earth. "I've never hurt a fly, never would, unless you hurt my brother," I state strongly, avoiding eye contact. My eyes are glued to his worn Rolling Stones t-shirt. "I'm not hurting your brother, sweetheart, I'm hurting you," he speaks lowly, almost at a whisper "the more I know about you, the more I have against you, the more I can get what I need from this situation."