Tracey V. Bateman - Betrayal Of Trust

“I can’t believe Matthew Strong is pulling out of the race.” Keri, Raven’s younger sister, married barely a year herself to her childhood sweetheart, flopped onto the overstuffed green couch next to Raven. “I was going to vote for that guy.”

“Shhh!” Raven glared at her sister and pressed the volume-up button on the remote.

“Sheesh, so-o-rry.”

“What’s going on?” Denni, the middle sister, entered the room, her eyes on the TV.

“Shh, or you’ll get your head yanked off.” Keri’s exaggerated whisper resonated through the room.

“I’ll talk if I want. It’s my house. Besides, I’m the bride and everyone must cater to my whims. So there.” Denni stuck her tongue out at Raven.

Raven rolled her eyes at the childish gesture, but couldn’t resist a smile before shifting her focus back to the TV.

Her claws extended at the sight of the so-called reporter staring out from the screen: Kellie Cruise, an upstart and a spoiled-rotten brat—way too under-qualified and inexperienced to be covering a press conference. Especially one of this magnitude. But nepotism at its finest continued to be at work for the daughter of the station manager. And Raven knew if she didn’t act fast, the just-out-of-college kid was going to get Bruce King’s job when he retired. The job that Raven wanted. Deserved.

“What’s going on?” Mac Mahoney’s booming hint of an Irish brogue filled the room.

“Shh!” The three girls spoke in unison.

“Hey, now. Is that any way to speak to your father?” He scowled, but quieted, as his attention turned to the blond-haired, blue-eyed reporter who was wrapping up the breaking-news coverage.

“We’ve been told that Mr. Strong will not be answering any questions on the subject of his withdrawal. Now or ever. His decision is final and is based on personal reasons which he apparently has no intention of revealing.”

The camera shifted back to the studio where the white-haired, almost-retired anchor stared out at the TV audience.

“There you have it, folks. In the political upset of the year, a candidate whom analysts and polls favored by a three-to-one margin has withdrawn his name from the race for Senate with only six weeks left until the primary.” The older gentleman heaved a sigh. “To reiterate…with no warning to his supporters and no explanation, Matthew Strong has pulled out of the race for the Missouri Senate.”

If he’d said, “And may God help us all,” Bruce couldn’t have been more obviously biased. It was only too apparent that he had had high hopes for Matthew’s election to Senate. No matter how much she might agree, Raven couldn’t help but be a bit irritated with his transparency. Part of good reporting was remaining detached, keeping your opinion carefully masked behind the facts and nothing else. Perhaps it was simply that after so many years behind that desk, Bruce didn’t feel he had anything to hide—namely his opinion.

With a sigh, Raven switched off the set as regular programming resumed. Tense silence reigned in the room and she knew her family was struggling not to ask the question. Finally, she could take the tension no more and she shot to her feet. “Okay, yes. It’s Matthew.”

“Your Matthew?” Mac looked at her over half glasses.

“Yes.” She rubbed her throbbing temple with the balls of her fingers in an attempt to ease the pressure. My Matthew. Regret for what might have been all those years ago shot through her. She hadn’t allowed herself second guesses. No regretting her decision. So why was her heart suddenly about to pound out of her chest?

She could still see Matthew’s expression of bewilderment as she’d placed the diamond engagement ring into his palm and curled his fingers around the token. She’d walked away. Transferred to a different school. And that was the last time she’d spoken to him.

Keri’s voice brought her back to the present. “Wow. I wonder what his folks think of him leaving the race. He was a surefire win for his party. Especially with his father dying last year. I don’t think Missouri is ready to live without a Strong representing us in Congress. What was Matthew thinking?”

All eyes turned to Raven as though she should know the answer to the question. “How should I know? I haven’t seen or spoken with the guy since college.”

Raven fingered the cell phone hooked to her waistband. She itched to phone Ken at the station and get the scoop. The press had to know more than they were reporting. No one pulled out of a race without giving some sort of an explanation—even a bogus one. Was there a gag order? She was tempted to make the call, but doing so now would betray her impatience to have this wedding over with so she could get on with her life. She’d been here two days as it was—long enough. Too long, actually, from the looks of things.

Matthew! Couldn’t you have waited a few more days to do this idiotic thing?

Fingering a loose thread on the arm of the couch, Raven considered the new development. What could have happened to make Matt give away the chance eventually to run for president? That was his dream, his goal, not only to follow in his old man’s footsteps, but actually to exceed his accomplishments. His family had groomed him for the White House. He’d had no other ambition except for marrying her. And other than the monkey wrench of a broken engagement, his plan was failsafe—undergrad, law school, interning under an incumbent senator, eventually running for senator himself and serving his constituents until it was time to run for president. Raven was supposed to have helped him decide when the time came. They would have been in their late forties, probably, by the time he was seasoned enough and ready to win the White House. And she’d had no doubt that with or without her he would someday be the president of the United States.

Now what would he do? Return to his law practice? Given his fame, that might be difficult.

She clenched her fist to keep from snatching the phone from its holder. If she could just get back to work, she could figure all this out.

“No way, Rave. You are not wimping out on my wedding, so you can just forget it. I don’t care how big the story is. My wedding is more important. And you’re not ruining it by leaving me one bridesmaid short.”

Jerked from her thoughts by Denni’s firm statement, Raven mustered up her most indignant and wrongfully accused expression. “I can’t believe you think I would consider leaving before the wedding.”

Denni rolled her eyes. “Pul-ease. I recognize that ‘get me out of here before I suffocate’ look. You’re trying to think of a way to weasel out of my wedding so you can go back to Kansas City today—and don’t bother to deny it.”

Heat crept to Raven’s cheeks. “All right. You have me. It crossed my mind for a second. But that’s all—and not really seriously.”

Denni’s responding scowl increased Raven’s shame. She hated feeling guilty and it seemed like she always felt guilty around her family. They expected too much. More than she could give. She knew she was a terrible sister, a terrible daughter. Her gaze focused past her sister to Mac Mahoney. The gruff, but tender retired Irish cop who had raised her, loved her, taught her never to settle for second best at anything in her life.

He looked up from studying the TV listings and his eyes crinkled with his smile.

Raven fought to hold back tears of melancholy.

She might feel like a terrible daughter, but then, she wasn’t really his daughter at all, was she?

The door to the sleek black Lincoln closed behind Matt amid the flashing of cameras and a myriad of questions thrown at him from determined reporters hoping he’d actually answer one. But they didn’t understand. His public image didn’t matter anymore. Only one thing did at this point: keeping Jamie out of the line of fire perpetuated by a biological father with ulterior motives. No telling how far that man might go to extort money from the family. He’d never get custody of Jamie, but he could drag them all through the mud. And that wasn’t something Matt was willing to chance. He’d sacrificed everything to ensure it.