Hidden Games: Enemies-to-Lovers

Football Romance Stand-Alone

(Hallowed Saints University) Brandy
Silver
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 HIDDEN GAMES
HALLOWED SAINTS UNIVERSITY
BRANDY SILVER
Copyright © 2024 by Grey Valor Publishing
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.
 CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Epilogue
Fake Play Chapter One
Leave a Review
About the Author
Also by Brandy Silver
 PROLOGUE

T he squealing of tires rang in my ears, and the stench of burned

rubber was so strong I could taste it. My head jarred as our car
rolled over and over on the small road, hurtling toward the Ocoee
River. The front windshield shattered, glass spraying all over us. Dad
grunted from the driver’s seat, and Mom yelped as our car flew off
the road and splashed into a deep part of the river, the sound like a
large tidal wave rolling to shore.
Wind blew through the front of the car, and my stomach leapt
into my throat. The car jerked and stilled.
My brain short-circuited. What the hell happened? Did we miss
the deer?
An agonized groan from the front seat slammed me back into the
moment.
We had to move if we were going to get out of this alive.
“Mom!” I screamed as I shakily attempted to unbuckle my seat
belt. The damn thing wouldn’t unlatch.
The engine was still humming, but that wouldn’t last much
longer. As the car sank, the reality of our situation made my head
spin.
I had to get my shit together, or we’d all die.
I broke free from my constraints and climbed between the front
seats of our 2018 Honda Accord. I slipped and hit my head on the
center console, but the pain never came because of the adrenaline
pulsing through me.
Turning to Mom, I pushed the button to roll down the passenger
window, knowing that when we were submerged, I wouldn’t be able
to. At this moment, we were still above the water, but not for long.
“Wake up.” I smacked her face. No matter what it took, I had to
get them out.
Her head jerked, but that was all I got. Her eyelids didn’t even
flutter. Blood poured from her head wound, coating her sandy-
blonde hair with crimson.
Dad will know what to do. He always told me to take care of my
mother, but it wasn’t working. I turned toward him…and my world
tilted as vomit crept up my throat. A large piece of glass was lodged
in his throat.
No.
Dad was gone.
Ignoring the blood, I checked for a pulse. Nothing, not even a
wheeze like he was gasping for breath.
My throat dried, and tears burned my eyes, but I didn’t have
time to lose it.
Not now.
I focused on Mom, unbuckling her seat belt just as the water met
the bottom of the window and began trickling into the car.
We had to get out of here fast. I slapped Mom harder, and her
eyelids fluttered ever so slightly.
Progress.
“We’re sinking. We have to go!” My voice broke, but I held my
tears at bay. “Mom.” I propelled my hand forward, but she caught
my wrist before I could make contact with her skin.
“I awaaake,” she slurred, which caused me to worry even more.
She probably had a concussion or worse, but at least she was
alive. “Then get moving.”
“Yur fathr,” she said and turned her head toward him.
“Mom, no.” But it was too late.
Her breath caught.
 “He’s gone. I checked.” Somehow, I managed to keep those
words intelligible.
“Gedd,” she said and started shaking, but she jerked her head as
if she were clearing it. “Ot.” She gestured to the window.
I wanted to argue and say you first, but now the river poured
inside, and the car was sinking fast. It might be easier to pull her
out after me so she wouldn’t have to work too hard.
I half climbed, half swam through the missing windshield frame.
The cold water of the Ocoee sent shivers jolting through my body. I
turned back to the car, ready to help Mom out.
She moved erratically, not like her usual self. I helped pull her
body through the window, but when she finally broke free, she sank
underwater.
I dove under, searching for her. I found her only a few feet down,
her eyes already closed.
No. I couldn’t lose another parent.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and kicked, trying to pull
her up, but I wasn’t a strong swimmer. We both went under.
The harder I tried, the more oxygen I used. But I refused to give
up. I kept tugging at her until my body went slack and my mind
grew hazy.
Dad said going rafting would challenge all of us. And boy, he
wasn’t wrong.
Everything went black.
 CHAPTER ONE

F ootsteps tapped toward my room, and the annoying beep from

the machine monitoring my heartbeat grew faster. For two days,
I’d drifted in and out of consciousness, and I wished I could stay
asleep. I couldn’t even face the handful of friends from the
University of Tennessee at Chattanooga who’d come by to check on
me.
I didn’t want to talk to anyone or have their questioning gazes
weighing on me as they wondered but didn’t ask what happened.
My reality wasn’t worth remembering.
Not anymore.
Moisture burned my eyes, and the back of my throat constricted
as I fought to hold tears at bay. This wasn’t the time to cry. The
beloved Tennessee senator, Patrick McHale, was on his way to my
hospital room.
Known for his work on Veteran’s Affairs and the US House
Committee on Transportation and Infrastructure, the senator had a
picture-perfect life with his Stepford-esque wife and cheerleading,
charity-focused eighteen-year-old daughter. They were the
equivalent of a Hallmark family.
Beautiful.
Powerful.
Everything people aspired to be.
 But not me. Not anymore. All I wanted was for Mom and Dad to
be alive. To hear their laughter once again, to dance with Mom in
the rain and play board games with them while we laughed and
accused each other of cheating.
I struggled to accept that they were dead. We’d just finished an
incredible day of rafting down the Ocoee and had been heading
home, sunburned and smiling.
We couldn’t have known it would be our last experience together
as a family.
If we’d hit the deer instead of swerving to avoid it, all three of us
would be alive.
And if I’d been a stronger swimmer, my mom would be here
beside me. Apparently, after I’d lost my grip on her, she’d been
sucked away by the strong undercurrent.
I was the sole survivor. I’d failed them both, and all I could do
was live with the regret and my memories of them.
If a car hadn’t been fairly close behind us and called 911
immediately, I would’ve died too.
“Is this her room?” a deep, elegant voice asked from outside my
door.
“Yes, sir,” the nurse who’d been tending to me replied. “We’ve
sent the media away, and we’ll be careful to monitor her visitors.”
“Good,” he said. “Make sure that continues. That girl has been
through enough—she doesn’t need reporters probing her for details.
The best thing for her is to heal and be able to move on with her
life, which is why I’m here.” He paused. “Please take my card. I’ll be
paying for any hospital expenses that her insurance doesn’t cover.”
“Of course, sir,” the nurse replied eagerly. “We’ll keep the notice
to restrict visitation on her records.”
“You will do more than that.” His voice lowered charmingly. “Do
you understand? No one is to talk to her without clearance from
me.”
My hands turned sweaty, and the beeping of the machine
mocked me. In news reports, the senator always seemed nice and
charming, but I didn’t know what he’d be like in person. Not that I
was complaining. A few reporters had barged in yesterday, asking
questions that had made me relive the accident over and over again,
and I was grateful that wouldn’t happen again.
I could still hear the shattering glass and the rush of the water,
taste the burned rubber, and feel the chilling wetness. Those things
were now ingrained in my mind and would be carried with me
forever.
The door to the stark, drab hospital room opened. I ran my
fingers through my chestnut-brown hair, trying to tame it. I hadn’t
brushed my hair since the morning before the accident, and I
couldn’t make myself look in the mirror, afraid of what I might see.
Pulling the thin white sheet over my faded blue hospital gown, I
straightened up, hoping to give the appearance of being somewhat
put together.
One of Mom’s favorite things to say was, “Fake it till you make it,
Evie.” She swore that, even when you felt broken inside, if you
appeared confident, everyone would be fooled.
I’d never challenged her on it; I always noticed a sadness in her
eyes when she told me that. I wanted to know what caused it, but I
never asked. I wouldn’t make her talk about something that clearly
caused her pain, so I’d change the subject and make her laugh
instead. She’d had a right to her secrets…the same as I did mine.
The senator stepped into the room, one polished black Oxford at
a time, his dark eyes focused on me. He shut the door softly, the
skin around his eyes tightening.
The man was even more good-looking in person than he was on
television. Most everyone loved him, but Mom and Dad hadn’t. I’d
asked them several times what they had against a man they’d never
met, and they’d laughed it off and said, sometimes, you just knew.
Given they thought the best of nearly everyone, their dislike of him
told me everything I needed to know.
He stood in front of me, scanning me like I was a biology project
and he was trying to decide where to begin dissecting.
My Southern manners took over. “Please, sit down.” I gestured to
the chair a few feet behind him.
“No, thank you. I won’t stay long.” He adjusted his black tie and
cleared his throat. “I figure it’d be best if I get to the point. I know
you’re suffering, and I don’t want to overwhelm you even more.”
“Okay.” I bit my bottom lip and picked at my thin covering. I had
no idea why he was here. When the nurse had told me that the
senator had requested to visit me, my mind had been blown. I’d
never had any interaction with this man, and the only plausible
reason I could imagine for his interest was the wreck. But why?
He huffed and shook his head. His jet-black hair was so gelled
into place that it didn’t budge, which almost made me chuckle. I’d
never met a man who used more product than I did.
Maybe it was a rich-people thing. Something I couldn’t relate to.
All our family money had gone toward Mom’s chemo. She’d had
aggressive breast cancer, and we’d spent every dime on her
treatments. It was worth it—she’d been in remission. But that meant
nothing now.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” The senator exhaled loudly. “From
what I’ve learned, you don’t have any other family. You’re all alone.
Is that correct?”
If the machine weren’t beeping, I would’ve bet money that my
heart stopped. I hadn’t known him for a full minute, and he was
talking about my harsh new reality. “Yes.” I winced as pain seized my
chest and my eyes grew heavy.
Sleep. That was what I wanted, but I had this intimidating man
hovering over me, so I forced the next words out. “Thank you for
your condolences. It means a lot.”
“I hope you’ll forgive my intrusion, but when I heard about what
happened, I felt compelled to come here after I dug a little deeper.”
His irises darkened, and a sad smile etched his face. “I know that
your family home is heavily mortgaged and that you’ve taken out
student loans to cover your costs at UTC.”
I stiffened, and a lump formed in my throat. I hadn’t known
about the house. I’d known finances were tight since my parents
had gone into debt due to Mom’s cancer, but they hadn’t hinted they
were that bad off.
“So… I thought I could help you out. Ease your financial burden.”
He shifted, seeming uneasy, his gaze holding mine.
 My stomach churned, and my lungs burned with each breath.
“Because of where the wreck was located?” That was all I could
think of. Near the place we’d flipped off the road, a part of it had
been sunken in, and there’d been press about the highway needing
repairs. The state hadn’t gotten to it yet. I remembered seeing the
senator on the air, talking about infrastructure and how they were
going to fix it soon.
“Not fully. The accident wasn’t caused by the road, but facts
don’t matter if the public believes there was more at play.” He hung
his head, sincerity flowing off him. “Either way, I…I’m so damn
sorry.”
For the first time, something stirred inside me. I enjoyed helping
others. That was why I wanted to become a psychologist—to help
children like me find the home they deserved. Help them find the
mental capacity to thrive in their situation, whatever that was. I’d
been so lucky that Mom and Dad had adopted me, but so many
others hadn’t been. I didn’t like focusing on myself, preferring to be
the one helping other people. And right now, seeing him hurting
took me away from my own pain. “It’s not your fault. Like you said,
it was a deer, not the road. You don’t owe me anything.” Had he
driven two hours south to Chattanooga just because he was worried
I might try to change the story and blame the state? I wouldn’t do
anything like that.
He flinched and then laughed humorlessly. “I wouldn’t go that
far.”
My skin crawled, though I wasn’t sure why. He was being nice,
but his laugh sounded haunted. “I’m sorry?”
“For what?” His brows quirked.
I hadn’t meant it as an apology, though he apparently thought
that was the case. “No, I meant, why wouldn’t you go that far?”
“Oh.” He nodded and waved a hand. “Forgive me. I’m just tired. I
had a full day.”
He hadn’t answered the question, and I didn’t want to push.
Maybe my concussion was messing with my comprehension. “Of
course.” I forced a smile, though I wasn’t sure it stuck.
 An awkward silence descended, and I glanced at my hands and
picked at a hangnail on my thumb. I wasn’t sure what to say, and he
didn’t seem ready to leave. Maybe he thought I wanted him to stay?
I opened my mouth to tell him to go just as he said, “I want to
run something by you.”
I stared at him. Why in the world would a senator ask me
anything? I scoffed quietly and glanced at him. His expression was
dead serious. “Okay.”
“I’ve been wanting to do something for a while now.” He strolled
to the uncomfortable-looking chair in the room and sat gracefully.
“To give back to the community.”
I tilted my head but remained quiet, unsure how to respond.
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “And this
horrible situation presented the opportunity.”
I bit my bottom lip and wanted to avert my gaze. But I refused.
Whatever he had to say, I had to watch him say it. “I’m listening.”
My heart thundered.
“I would like to offer you an opportunity.” He steepled his hands
and leaned back. “Something that could help you tremendously for
the rest of your life.”
My lungs seized as I tried to think through every possibility. I
couldn’t land on anything I needed except the one thing I knew was
impossible—bringing my parents back to life.
What I wouldn’t give to hear Mom making fun of Dad for his off-
key singing and Dad singing louder in retaliation, causing all of us to
erupt in a fit of giggles. Though we’d never had a lot of money, we
had so much love for each other. So much so that I was never even
tempted to look for my birth parents.
I realized he was studying me, waiting for my answer. “I…I don’t
understand.”
He stood and started pacing, his face growing animated. “I want
to pay off your student loans and transfer you to Hallowed Saints
University for your senior year of college.”
I blinked, trying to replay what he’d just said. It couldn’t be what
I’d just heard. My concussion had to be messing with me, big time.
“I’m sor–” I cut myself off. He would think I was apologizing again.
“Can you repeat that?”
A blinding smile was his response, and he chuckled. “You heard
me, Evie. I want to take care of your student loans and pull some
strings to get you into Hallowed Saints University for your senior
year. I did some research and Hallowed Saints has one of the top
undergrad psychology programs in the country. Studying at HSU will
help to get you into an amazing grad school. And with your credits
from UTC, you’ll be able to graduate on schedule.”
The room spun, and my stomach roiled. “That’s a nice offer.”
More than a nice offer. Hallowed Saints was a small, elite private
university northeast of Knoxville that many dreamed of attending.
Few could actually afford it, and even fewer got accepted. “But one
year there would cost more than the debt I’ve already racked up
from student loans at UTC. I truly appreciate the offer, but I’ll have
to decline.”
“Oh dear. In my excitement, I wasn’t clear.” He walked to the
edge of my bed and patted my arm as he continued, “I will pay the
tuition for your senior year at HSU. You’ll be able to attend whatever
graduate program you wish for psychology, and you’ll have everyone
begging you to intern with them. It’ll be the best of both worlds.”
None of this made sense. This had to be some sort of dream…
no, nightmare…no… I wasn’t sure what to consider this. Maybe a
blend of the two, but my answer was crystal clear. “I appreciate it,
but I can’t accept. It’s too much.”
Yet, a part of me wanted to. If I did, I wouldn’t have to go back
to the home I’d shared with my parents, where their ghosts would
haunt me. The thought of a fresh start somewhere—anywhere—
while I healed was so damn appealing.
He winced—slightly, and it disappeared quickly as if I’d imagined
it. Hell, I probably had.
“This is something I’ve been wanting to do, and I’ve been looking
for the perfect candidate. Someone smart and deserving. After what
life just threw at you, I want it to be you.” He dropped his hands and
removed a business card from his pocket. “Think about it. There’s no
expiration date.” He stilled and grimaced. “No, that’s not true. There
is. We need enough time to rush the paperwork through and have
everything in place because classes start in three weeks. So, give me
an answer by end of day tomorrow.”
I took the thick, fancy, cream business card and rubbed it with
my thumb. “Are you even sure they would take me this late?”
“I’m on the board, a huge donor, an alumnus, and I’ve already
informed them of my intent. All I need is your yes and the
completed paperwork to make it official.”
Never in my wildest dreams would an opportunity like this
present itself again. This didn’t happen to people like me, yet here I
was. There had to be a catch.
His eyes twinkled like he already knew my answer. “Call me, Evie.
Say yes. Let me do this for you.” He strolled to the door and paused.
“I’ll be waiting for your answer.” Then he left.
I lay back and tried to work through everything. Somehow,
saying yes felt like agreeing to something greater…something I didn’t
comprehend.
Something like hope burgeoned in my bruised chest.
 CHAPTER TWO

A loud thump startled me from my sleep. I reached over and

snatched my cell phone from the plastic end table I’d bought for
this place. I glanced at my phone and groaned. It was three a.m.,
and my new roommates were giggling loudly upstairs.
I flopped back onto the bed, staring at the unfinished ceiling in
my basement room. The heat outside, a signature of August
weather in southeast Tennessee, smothered me. Even though
Hallow, Tennessee, was at the edge of the Great Smoky Mountains
and about fifty miles north of Knoxville, you’d never be able to tell in
the summer. The heat was just miserable. Still, the humidity was a
little less intense because the town was in a more mountainous area
than back home in Chattanooga.
I hadn’t initially thought I’d accept the senator’s offer. But being
in my childhood home had been so difficult. Everywhere I looked
had been a constant reminder of Dad and Mom. Every night, I’d
sworn I could hear them coming home, hear their laughter from the
bedroom.
So, I said yes. When I’d sold the house, I’d texted my college
friends a quick goodbye. Using every penny of my parents’ estate,
I’d hurried here to secure the basement room in this rental house
with two other students who were attending Ridge University on the
other side of the city. The place was old and needed some work, but
it was better than living on the streets, and splitting the rent with
two other students made it something I could more easily afford,
though I’d need a job on top of my heavy course load. It was my
senior year at a brand-new university, and I couldn’t help but
wonder if I’d been stupid for taking the senator up on his offer.
I knew what Mom would have said. She’d have scoffed and
shaken her head, saying, “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,
Evie.”
My vision blurred as unshed tears burned my eyes. It’d been over
three weeks since I’d lost them, and the pain wasn’t getting any
better. Instead, it was worse.
More giggles sounded from upstairs, followed by loud banging.
They were going to keep me up all night at this rate, so I swiped my
earbuds from the side table and put them in, picked one of my
favorite songs that fit the moment—Taylor Swift’s “You’re On Your
Own, Kid”—and tried to go to sleep.

A fter tossing and turning for the next three hours, I finally threw off
the covers and put my feet on the laminate floor that didn’t come
close to passing for wood. I needed to get ready and head over to
Hallowed Saints University for a media interview with the senator,
buy my books, then search for a job.
Unfortunately, selling my parents’ house hadn’t left me with
much of anything. Between all the time Dad had taken off for Mom’s
cancer treatments and Mom having to quit her job, our house had
been heavily mortgaged. Insurance had refused to cover Mom’s
treatment, and my parents’ retirement savings had been tapped out.
Every last cent of the sale had taken care of the mortgage, I had no
money to my name.
I flipped on the black lamp on the end table and glanced around
the room. It was large, essentially the same size as the ground floor
of the house, and I had a small bathroom in the corner all to myself.
I’d be able to purchase a cheap desk and could do schoolwork down
here, but the basement had its flaws. Mainly, the washer and dryer
were down here, I had no closet, and the walls weren’t well
insulated, which meant I needed to pick up a fan for the summer
and a space heater for the winter. Either way, I’d figure out a way to
survive for the next year. For that short amount of time, I should be
able to handle pretty much anything.
I shuffled to my duffel bag and searched for my best outfit.
Senator McHale had mentioned there would be a few reporters on
campus to interview us about my attendance and to be prepared. I
was quite certain that meant I needed to dress my best since I
might be on camera. It was one of the reasons I’d been reluctant to
accept his offer—I didn’t want to be the face of his charity. But that
was just prideful.
Although, when he’d talked about covering my room and board,
I’d put my foot down. The tuition was enough.
I found my white button-down shirt, which wasn’t too wrinkled,
and a black skirt. Simple, conservative, not overstated. This
ensemble would help me remain unremarkable, and the reporters
might not focus on me. I quickly took a shower, got dressed, fixed
my hair and makeup, and slid on my black, strappy sandals. Though
my small heels would’ve been better, I had at least a mile to walk
and wanted to be comfortable.
I glanced in the small bathroom mirror. I’d pulled half my hair
into a braid at the top of my head and left the back falling down in
waves. My steel-blue eyes appeared gray with the light smoky
eyeliner and eyeshadow that I used. I darkened my lashes and
painted my lips a soft pink, just enough color that I wouldn’t look
washed out if recorded.
Satisfied, I walked to the door that separated my room from the
steps and then tiptoed up the old, creaky wooden stairs. Haven and
Leah had finally stopped giggling about an hour ago, not that it had
done much good. I’d already been counting down to the alarm by
then.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I stepped into the small
kitchen. I opened the fridge door to get one of my yogurts, only to
find the space filled to the brim with box wine and PBA. No wonder
they’d been giggling all night.
 After locating my blackberry yogurt, I snatched a spoon and
headed across the room to the small square kitchen table right in
front of a window.
A low moan came from the living room, and I popped my head
over the threshold to find both of them passed out.
Haven’s long ash-blonde hair had fanned out around her head,
and she was snoring faintly as she slept on the black pleather couch
while Leah lay on the floor underneath her. Leah was curled into the
fetal position, her copper-brown hair hanging in her face like a
blanket. Part of me wanted to wake them up and help them into
their own rooms, but another part was afraid to disturb them.
They’d both seemed like okay girls at first, but they were clearly
partiers.
Instead, I opted to finish my meal, took the throws from the back
of the couch, and covered both of them up. Then I turned and left,
locking the front door behind me.
My phone dinged. Beth, a college friend, had texted me.
Beth: Good luck. Have a great day! Tell me everything
when you get home.
I cringed. I’d definitely not be following through on that. All it
would do was lead to more questions about visits and reminders of
my parents.
I noted the time and scowled. I had twenty minutes to walk a
mile, which wouldn’t be an issue if it weren’t for the sweltering heat
that already had me sweating. I couldn’t be late, so I picked up my
pace, hoping to get there before anyone else.

I’ d been worried it would be hard to find the school, but that wasn’t
the case.
I walked a few blocks off the main road to avoid any chance of
Senator McHale seeing me as he drove in and wondered what I’d
gotten myself into. He’d told me where to park this morning, so he
was under the impression I had a car. One that I didn’t want him to
realize was wrong.
The neighborhood around the rental house was suspect at best,
even with the sun out this morning. However, I hadn’t found
anything else I could afford. It wouldn’t be so bad if I had a vehicle,
but that was a luxury beyond my means.
The sun rose high in the cloudless sky, mocking me. The
sunbeams were already causing sweat to bead on my forehead and
neck. I held my phone and watched the map for directions, and
soon, a gigantic brick wall appeared on my left, just past the main
road—this had to be the Hallowed Saints University campus.
From what I saw in the pictures, the wall surrounded the entire
school—wrought iron or a privacy fence wasn’t fancy enough, I
suppose. From what the website said, the Hallowed Saints campus
was one hundred ninety-six acres, which wasn’t large by most
university standards, but it didn’t need to be, given the small, highly
exclusive class sizes.
Soon, the gray roofs of the university buildings jutted over the
top of the fence. The brick of the buildings blended in with the wall.
I reached the road to the main entrance, which I couldn’t have
missed even if I’d wanted to, considering the gigantic wrought iron
gate ahead with the letters HSU cut into it.
I quickened my pace, eager to get there. I didn’t want Senator
McHale to see me walking in. Luckily, the gate was open since this
was move-in weekend for new and returning students who hadn’t
stayed on campus over the summer.
I passed the great lawn to the left of the main entrance, and as
soon as I saw the area in front of the library to the right, my
stomach sank. The road between the great lawn and the library was
packed full of media vans, and reporters had congregated on the
lawn in front of the library, mics and camera recorders all on hand.
I’d thought there might be only a few, but I’d been so wrong. It
looked like both local and national news were here.
Worse, already standing in front of the four-story library on the
matching brick sidewalk stood Senator McHale, his wife, and his
daughter, as well as the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen. They
smiled and waved at the cameras, and as I breezed down the road,
the senator’s eyes locked on me.
A small frown tugged the corners of his lips. Sweat dripped down
my chest and into my bra. Great. Not only had he seen me walking
in, but I was going to most definitely stink.
One of the reporters in the back turned, her Caribbean-blue eyes
homing in on me. She beamed as she grabbed her cameraman’s arm
and tugged him toward me.
The world seemed to tilt as more of them turned in my direction.
Somehow, I managed to keep my legs propelling me forward. At
least, I thought I did because I kept moving closer to the library.
Meeting me halfway, the reporter started, “Hi. This is Michelle
with News Channel Ten. Are you Evie Stone, the lucky girl the
senator has provided with a full ride to the exclusive Hallowed Saints
University?”
My stomach roiled, and I swallowed. I wanted to say no, but I
couldn’t do that to the senator. Not after everything he’d done for
me. “Yes, I am.”
More cameras swung in my direction as the reporters in front
realized they were missing out on time with me. I could feel their
cameras zooming in.
I straightened my shoulders, trying not to look overwhelmed. I’d
never experienced anything like this, nor had I been prepared for
how much chaos surrounded me. I probably should’ve been; the
senator and his family were equivalent to celebrities in Tennessee,
between the famous parties they threw and the modeling gig their
daughter had finished just last week. Katherine McHale was
becoming quite the social media influencer; even I had heard of her.
I tried to walk through the masses, but I stopped moving forward
as the reporters piled on me. My heart pounded, and the world
seemed to close in, constant questions being thrown my way.
All of a sudden, the sexy guy who’d been standing with the
senator’s family came plowing through the crowd. His dark-golden-
brown hair was slightly messy, though the look seemed intentional,
and he wore a white polo shirt with the school’s mascot—a gold
jaguar standing over HSU in royal purple—on the chest. Even though
the shirt wasn’t tight, it was clear how lean and muscular he was
underneath. That was when it hit me who he was—the other
Tennessee senator’s son and the school’s starting quarterback,
Carter Grisham.
“Hey, give her some space,” he said sternly, his warm-chocolate-
brown eyes darkening as he shoved some reporters back to reach
me. When he got to my side, he placed an arm around me, and I
could see golden flecks in his irises. They resembled honey. “Are you
okay? I know this can be overwhelming.”
My throat closed, and it wasn’t due to the reporters and the
crowd. It had everything to do with my hero beside me.
When I didn’t respond, he raised a brow.
Great, they were all going to think something was wrong with
me. “I’m fine.” I blew out a breath. “Sorry.”
“Good.” He smiled, and I could’ve sworn my heart stopped. He
edged us forward, helping me navigate the crowd.
I forced myself to look away before I did anything stupid. I
focused on the ground in front of me so I didn’t have to look at the
sea of faces. One foot in front of the other, I chanted internally. That
was an easy task to focus on.
When we reached the steps to join the senator and his family,
Senator McHale himself touched my shoulder and stared into my
face. He murmured, “Are you okay? I thought you’d drive and come
through the back entrance as we discussed.”
“Yeah, sorry.” My face burned, and I hoped he thought it was
from the heat. “I needed a walk. I thought I would arrive early.”
“Reporters always arrive hours ahead of time.” He smiled, but it
looked jaded. “Next time, we’ll plan better.”
Next time? My stomach turned.
The senator nodded at Carter, and I noticed he hadn’t removed
his arm. Carter guided me to one side so that he stood between me
and the senator’s daughter.
“My dear, sweet wife, Lisa, and I,” Senator McHale said, placing
an arm around his wife, “along with my esteemed colleague Senator
Grisham, who couldn’t be here today, have selected this very worthy
student of psychology as our personal scholarship recipient to HSU.
We are covering her tuition and supporting her promising future.
When her personal tragedy was brought to our attention, and we
learned she’d not only lost both parents but had already dedicated
her studies to becoming a psychologist to work with children coping
with loss and changing family circumstances, the three of us knew
that this was something we wanted to do together.”
Lisa beamed at her husband, her muted coral lipstick making her
white teeth pop. Her skin was sun-kissed, making her ash-blonde
hair almost appear gray. Regardless, she was beautiful, just like her
husband and daughter. “It was the right thing to do.” She turned
toward me with a plastic smile, her brown eyes cold, chilling me to
the bone.
She looked at me like she hated me. Yet the senator had made it
sound like both of them wanted to help me.
My gaze swung to Katherine, on the other side of Carter, and I
immediately regretted it. She wore a simple but trendy navy skirt
with a sky-blue blouse that brought out her cobalt eyes. In every
way I looked frumpy; she looked put together. Her espresso-brown
hair was pulled into a bun with curled tendrils framing her heart-
shaped face. The fact that she’d already started a modeling career
made sense. She was even more stunning in person than on her
social media.
“Miss?” a tall, middle-aged reporter called out.
Senator McHale came to my other side and placed a hand on my
shoulder as he answered the question I hadn’t even realized the
reporter was asking. “Evie Stone.”
“Thank you.” The reporter nodded. “Miss Stone, how does it feel
being given this amazing opportunity that anyone would covet?”
She might as well have punched me in the gut. Her question was
cruel, though I was sure that was unintended. “Well, a little surreal.
I didn’t expect it. And honestly, I didn’t expect to be able to
complete my senior year at my previous college since my parents
died…” My voice cracked as the agony of losing them slammed into
me once again.
“Oh, I—” The reporter’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
to upset you.”
 “Of course you didn’t.” Senator McHale patted my arm. “But she’s
going through a lot. As much as she’s told me she appreciates this
opportunity, I’m sure she would rather it not have happened. That
her parents were still alive, and I understand that. Pain like that will
take time to heal.”
A tear trickled down my face, and I brushed it away. The last
thing I needed was to have a meltdown on camera. “But I am very
grateful for Senator and Mrs. McHale’s generosity as well as Senator
Grisham’s support.”
“That’s so heartbreaking.” A reporter who had to be fresh out of
college placed a hand on her heart. “And Carter, how do you feel
about what your father and the McHales decided to do?”
“I think it’s amazing.” Carter smiled, making my heart stutter.
“Unfortunately, Dad wasn’t able to be here, which is why I’m here in
his stead. But I hope he’s watching so he can hear how proud I am
that he helped Senator McHale make this happen for Evie after such
a tragedy.”
The kindness in both his and the reporter’s words, along with the
senator’s supportive touch, had a sob building in my chest. I hadn’t
intended to make a scene, but I was becoming overwhelmed.
“I hate to interrupt,” Katherine said in a babyish voice, “but I
think Eve has already had one heck of a day.”
I inhaled. Had she purposely mispronounced my name, or was it
a true mistake?
Katherine squeezed between Carter and me and laid her head
against his arm. “Why don’t Carter and I give her a tour of the
library? Then we can show her the bookstore and help her find her
books.”
My chest expanded, loosening the tight coil inside. I glanced at
Senator McHale. Getting away from the spotlight would be amazing,
but I didn’t want to upset him.
“That sounds like a terrific idea, honey.” Lisa mashed her lips into
what might be a look of concern. “You and Carter help her, and your
father and I will meet you there.”
Grateful to get away, I smiled and nodded my thanks.
 Carter took my arm, and we turned and followed Katherine into
the library.
As soon as we stepped inside the older brick building, I took in
the elegant off-white walls and the crystal chandelier hanging from
the center of the ceiling.
Carter turned to me, still clasping my arm, his forehead lined
with worry. “Hey, are you okay? I thought you were going to pass
out.”
“She’s fine, Carter,” Katherine bit out and squeezed his other arm.
“It was just whatever little act Dad put her up to.”
My head snapped back, and my lungs froze. “Act? What are you
talking about?”
“Oh, you can cut the bullshit with me.” Katherine rolled her eyes
and huffed. “And stop touching my boyfriend.”
I choked and slipped my arm out of Carter’s grasp. For all her
beauty, she sure was nasty on the inside. I shouldn’t have been
surprised my parents had been wary of the family.
“Boyfriend?” Carter’s voice hardened, and he stepped away from
her. “No. That was an act. You aren’t anything to me. I’m only here
to keep up pretenses for our fathers.”
Her bottom lip quivered, and he chuckled bleakly. “That shit
won’t work with me.” He shook his head. “You forget that I know
how you work.”
Her face smoothed out, but her voice softened. “Carter, you
mean a lot to me. I hope you’ll see that we can work things out.”
She sighed, a sad smile filling her face. “Why don’t you go ahead to
the bookstore? I have something I want to talk to Evie here about
before we join you.”
Carter studied me, and I prayed he was going to stay so I
wouldn’t be alone with Katherine, but his phone dinged. He removed
it from his back pocket and scowled. Then he shrugged, his nose
wrinkling. “Whatever. Good luck, new girl.” With that, he headed
toward the side door and answered, “I asked you not to call me.” His
tone turned icy. “No, Mom. I made it—” He strolled out the side
door, leaving me behind.
 Well, apparently, he wasn’t concerned with saving me anymore. I
almost wanted to call him back, but the coldness that now radiated
from him had me biting my tongue.
As soon as we were alone, Katherine pivoted, a snarl on her face.
And once again, I was clueless about what I’d done to set her
off.
 CHAPTER THREE

K atherine’s nostrils flared. She somehow pulled off the angry look
while still appearing put together.
She stabbed a long, crimson fingernail into my chest. “I don’t
know what your endgame is, but I’m not my father. I won’t let some
broke gold digger blackmail me.”
My chest hurt where her finger dug into me, but I schooled my
expression. I refused to give her any additional power. And I had to
face facts; she was the one with all the control in this situation. She
belonged here, while I was the one who’d gotten here because of
her father. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not
blackmailing anyone.”
She dropped her hand and scoffed. “Please. Daddy wouldn’t be
doing this without a reason. His poll numbers are amazing—he
doesn’t need some charity case to help him politically, so there’s
definitely something else going on.”
I had to shut this down fast for my own survival and peace of
mind. “I am not blackmailing him.” My lungs seized and I froze.
“Wait. Did he tell you I was?” That didn’t make any sense, but at the
same time, it hadn’t made sense for him to offer to pay for me to
come here, let alone involve the other senator.
Crossing her arms, Katherine leaned back on her heels. “He
didn’t. But I know my father. The only logical explanation is that
you’re holding something over him, and I want to know what it is.”
 A part of me wanted to nudge her shoulders to see if she’d
stumble back because I couldn’t fathom how she was able to stand
in those stiletto heels. Instead, I inhaled, trying to calm my racing
heart. “I don’t know why he’s doing it either. I’ve been trying to
figure it out. All I can tell you is that he visited me out of the blue in
the hospital. I didn’t ask him to. Hell, I didn’t even realize he knew
about the accident until he showed up.”
Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Katherine pursed her lips.
“That doesn’t make sense to me either, but you being here is
important to Daddy, so I’ll play nice and give you a chance. But we
aren’t hanging out unless it’s in front of the cameras. Got it?”
Some of the tension in my stomach eased. She didn’t like me,
but she seemed willing to at least not be horrible to me. I’d take it.
It wasn’t like I expected us to be friends anyway, but acquaintances
would be nice. “Understood.”
“Good. After five minutes, follow me.” She whipped around and
marched toward the door on the side of the library that Carter had
gone through.
When she stepped out, I realized I had no idea where the
bookstore even was. I felt stupid… which was silly. I’d never been
here, and I had a perfect GPA from my previous college. But
something about Katherine made me feel insecure.
I hated it.
My parents had told me that people’s imaginations played tricks
on them and that things were never as bad as they feared.
Once again, I reached for my phone, ready to call them. To tell
them what was happening and that they’d been so wrong. But as I
held my phone in my hand, I realized I couldn’t call. They wouldn’t
answer.
Tears burned my eyes, and I blinked furiously to hold them back.
I was already a sweaty, smelly mess—I didn’t need to add mascara
streaks to the ever-worsening picture.
I glanced out the library’s front doors and saw that the senator
and his wife were still talking to the media. Luckily, the doors were
tinted, and no one had seen my confrontation with Katherine.
 A figure walked toward me from the interior of the library. My
vision was still blurry, so all I could make out was a tall, muscular
build.
“Hey, are you okay?” the person asked and hurried to me.
I laughed and fanned my hands before my eyes. My mind raced,
and my head throbbed. I didn’t know how to explain this. “Yeah,
sorry. Just a little lost.”
“Oh, hey. Happens to the best of us.”
Finally, my vision cleared and revealed another gorgeous guy. He
wore a casual, short-sleeved navy-blue shirt, and part of a tattoo
peeked out from under one sleeve. He also carried an HSU royal-
purple backpack.
My hand itched to lift the sleeve so I could see the rest of the
tattoo, but I didn’t want to make this encounter even more
awkward.
I realized that I was blocking his way out of the library. “Oh, I’m
sorry,” I stuttered, moving out of the way. He probably felt like he
had to talk to me since he needed to pass me.
“Why are you sorry?” He ran a hand through his dark-brown hair,
his brows furrowing.
I gestured to the spot where I’d just been standing. “I was in
your way.”
“No, you weren’t.” He chuckled, his light-brown eyes warming. “I
saw you talking to the senator’s daughter, and it didn’t seem to be
going so well. I wanted to check on you, and now I’ve learned
you’re lost. Where do you need to go?”
If I’d been smart, I would’ve studied a map before coming here,
but I’d been so focused on finding a place to live and selling the
house that I hadn’t thought about the campus yet. “The bookstore.”
“You’re in luck.” He winked. “Because I have absolutely no clue.”
The corners of my mouth tipped upward. “And how does that
make me lucky?”
“Because we can search for it together. I actually planned on
finding it this morning too.” He glanced outside, where the media
was, then gently clasped my arm and led me toward a side door.
“There’s only one thing better than being lost alone.”
 “Oh, really.” For the first time in weeks, my pain receded, and I
truly smiled. “And what would that be?”
He nudged my arm with his shoulder. “Being lost with someone
else. That way, you can hang out while you’re both desperately
trying to figure out which way to go. Besides, I know the basic
campus layout, and I bet we’ll find the bookstore in the commons.”
He held the door open for me. “We can go around the back of the
auditorium and the lake to prevent the media from seeing us and
head there.”
I breezed through the door. “So you do know your way around?
You seem like you’re older than a freshman anyway.”
“Hey, so do you.” He scrunched his nose and thrust his hands in
his pockets as we took a right toward another large building. “I’m
not a freshman. I’m a junior. I transferred from another university
when I was offered a football scholarship.”
“Great.” My stomach sank. That meant that he knew Carter
Grisham and might wind up not wanting to be friends with me—
something I could use right now.
“That didn’t sound too sincere.” He faked a gasp and placed a
hand on his chest. “I promise I’m not some dumb jock.”
I laughed, though it was a little forced. It was time to rip the
bandage off so he could go ahead and disregard me. “I’m a senior.
Senator McHale and Senator Grisham pulled some strings and got
me in.”
“Ah, we have a lot in common.” He chuckled. “Senator Grisham
was the one who got me a scholarship with McHale’s backing and
helped me transfer here.”
So, helping me wasn’t off-brand for the senators. Why was
Katherine acting like it was unheard of and accusing me of
blackmail?
We walked past a large building with a sign that said Hallow
Auditorium and a sparkling lake lay about a quarter mile ahead. A
few students walked past us, dressed in designer clothes that
probably cost more than my monthly rent.
I looked at the handsome stranger beside me. He had at least six
inches on me, and I was a decent height for a girl at five-eight. I
wanted to get to know him better, so I forced myself to say
something. “To be admitted here, you can’t be dumb. But are you
any good at football?”
“Actually, I am.” He smiled. “And my old college tried everything
to get me to stay, but my education is more important to me.
Besides, a few of the alumni have been recruiting from other places
over the last couple of years, and several strong players transferred
over the summer. We’re hoping to go to the championships this year.
With Carter Grisham as the QB, we have a good chance.”
“Are you hoping to be drafted by the NFL?” The college
championships were a huge deal, and if they did have a strong
team, there’d be a lot of eyes on them.
He shrugged. “Not my goal. Even though you can make a lot of
money, a career in the NFL doesn’t last nearly as long as one you
can enjoy until your midsixties or longer. I figured, NFL draft or just
a great education, this was the best place for me. Eventually, I’ll be
living the American dream like almost everyone else.”
I remembered something I’d heard on the news. “And the few
NFL players who make a ton of money when they’re young often go
bankrupt before they’re middle-aged.”
“You know what that means?” He waggled his brows.
I paused and turned toward him. “What?”
“That won’t be me. Because I decided to go to the school at the
top of the education pyramid that also happens to have a kick-ass
football team. Either way, I’ll be prepared for whatever comes next.”
“Have you started training with the team?”
“Yeah, over the summer.” He chewed his bottom lip. “I don’t
know what I was expecting, but the people here are a little…”
“Entitled?” I should have shut up, but after the hellish morning, I
couldn’t lock it down. “Manipulative?”
His warm eyes sparkled. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m sorry.” The last thing I needed was word getting out that I’d
bad-mouthed HSU students. I’d already started my time here with a
bang. If I wasn’t careful, I would learn how much worse everything
could get. “I was teasing.”
 “No, you’re right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his arm
muscles bulging. “I was going to say snobby, but your adjectives
work too.”
We reached the lake. The breeze rippled the dark, murky water,
and my gut clenched. I averted my gaze. A few oak trees were
growing around the lake, giving it a natural feel despite it being
manmade on a college campus.
“Mom says—” I cut myself off, my heart breaking. She didn’t say
anything anymore. “I mean…my mom used to say that the old
saying ‘If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at
all’ should be a golden rule for everyone.”
“Well, I disagree.” He shrugged. “I think if we were all more
straightforward and not as politically correct, the world would be a
better place.”
I snorted. “You don’t want to be PC, yet you came to the very
school where most politicians send their children.”
“I can endure anything for two years.”
“I said something eerily similar just a little while ago.” I wrapped
my arms around my waist, needing something to hold on to.
Silence descended, but it wasn’t awkward at all—maybe we could
become friends.
As we walked across a lawn, he asked, “So…what’s your name?”
“Evie.” I tucked a piece of hair that had fallen out of my braid
behind my ear. “What about yours?”
“Grayson.”
We didn’t talk as we continued our trek behind more buildings,
and soon, we approached a larger one.
Katherine, Carter, and some other guy stood outside it. The other
guy had beautiful bronze skin and a strong jawline. His short, dark
hair was perfectly cut, and his face was clean-shaven.
All three of them could’ve been a picture from a campus
brochure. But when they zeroed in on us, my heart skipped a beat.
“At least someone helped her,” Carter said, his tense jaw making
his sculpted face even more rugged. Out of the three guys around
me, he was the most handsome by far.
 “Yeah, I found her at the library and learned we both need books
for class tomorrow.” Grayson smiled lazily and moved closer to me.
Carter placed his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Thanks,
man. She can hang with us while you get your things. Senator
McHale is on his way.”
Katherine glowered at me. A lump formed in my throat.
Grayson must have noticed because he shook his head. “I’ll wait
with you all. I want to thank the senator for getting me in here.”
The guy I didn’t know chuckled. “Damn, Katherine. Your dad has
been busy.”
“Yes, Samuel. He has.” Katherine rolled her eyes.
“Look, two reporters are heading this way to talk to us.” Carter
nodded at Katherine and me, then gestured at Grayson. “You head
in there with Samuel, and we’ll meet you inside.”
Grayson fidgeted, and his gaze settled on me.
Carter shifted, looking agitated. He rasped, “I wasn’t asking,
scholarship boy. Now bounce.”
My teeth ached from how hard I was clenching them. I’d thought
Carter was a good guy, but now he was acting just as bad as
Katherine.
Widening his stance, Grayson narrowed his eyes. “I promised
Evie I’d take her to the bookstore.”
These two alpha males were staring each other down, and the
senator was on his way. Maybe coming to school here hadn’t been
smart after all.
 CHAPTER FOUR

C arter and Grayson glared at one another. Somehow, I’d become

the center of this standoff, and I didn’t like the attention. It was
going to be hard enough trying to survive this year, especially with
Katherine putting a target on my back. Any additional attention I
received would only make her more determined to get rid of me.
“Again, I want to thank the senator since he got me in here,”
Grayson said, and he shuffled closer to me.
A vein bulged in Carter’s neck. “You can tell him another time…or
even when we come into the bookstore. Right now, you and Samuel
need to get the fuck out of here.”
His voice was authoritative, sounding much older than his years.
Grayson glanced at me again, turmoil in his eyes. He was a good
guy, a saint compared to Carter and Katherine, and I could tell he
didn’t want to leave me with them, but at the same time, Carter was
his quarterback, and he was probably used to following his lead.
As if hearing my thoughts, Carter gritted out, “I’ll make you pay
at practice if you don’t get out of here.”
“You wouldn’t.” Grayson sneered. “I’m left tackle. If you hurt me,
you won’t have protection during the game.”
Samuel huffed. “Come on, guys. Let’s all just go inside.”
Carter rolled his eyes. “We have a backup who was just fine last
year. We don’t need a guy like you who’s here to further his own
gain by association.”
 Tilting his head back, Grayson clenched his jaw. “Are you saying
I’m just here to hang around people like you? Might I remind you
that your father recruited me from my old university? Not the other
way around.”
“And yet, you and she”—Carter pointed at me—“jumped at the
first opportunity to come here. I’m not my dad, and I won’t let
someone ride my coattails, so you need to get in line.”
My chest ached. Carter had seemed so nice at first. Now, he was
acting like a different person. What had changed between meeting
him and now?
Coming here had been a horrible decision, but I couldn’t take it
back. I hated that Katherine and Carter clearly thought I’d
blackmailed my way in so I could use their connections. That was
the last thing I’d ever do, but they weren’t going to listen. Well, I
wouldn’t cower. That would only make them attack me more.
Instead, I’d try to save Grayson from making a permanent enemy of
Carter.
Glancing sideways, I saw the senator and his wife heading in our
direction with two reporters. I was running out of time.
Inhaling, I turned to Grayson and forced a smile. “Hey, it’s okay.
If you’re staying for me, I’m fine. The senator is almost here.”
Grayson held my gaze, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll head into the
bookstore.”
“Okay,” I said a little too brightly, but damn, I wanted this
altercation to end.
He kept his gaze on me a moment longer before turning his
attention back to Carter. He adjusted his backpack and smirked, then
winked at me and headed to the door.
When I looked back at Katherine, Carter, and Samuel, I found
Carter’s piercing eyes homed in on me. My pulse spiked, and my
stomach somersaulted. There was something unnerving about
having his undivided attention, and as much as it thrilled me, it also
petrified me because I was certain that stare wasn’t one of interest.
I was also certain he was pissed off at me, but I had no idea why.
“Come on.” Samuel smacked Grayson’s back. “Let’s get out of
here before Carter kicks your ass in front of the cameras.”
 Grayson looked at me one more time before he spun and
marched toward the thick cherrywood doors leading inside, Samuel
following.
“Carter, I know you don’t want any animosity between players on
the field.” Katherine watched the two of them disappear. “But be
careful of him. He doesn’t like you being in charge.”
My entire body tensed into one big knot. These people assumed
everyone wanted what they perceived as theirs. Their status, their
money, their college… The ego was extraordinary.
I had no interest in being part of their clique. All I wanted to do
was keep my head down and do my work so I could go to a great
grad school and earn my PhD; then make a difference in kids’ lives.
That was my only goal. I didn’t want to buddy up with Katherine and
cruise on her sailboat—or whatever the heck rich people did.
Just then, the senator arrived, beaming. “I’m so glad you three
got some alone time together. I was just telling Bob and Michelle
that I can count on the two of you to show Evie around the campus
and help her get settled.”
The male reporter, who had to be Bob, held out his mic to us.
“From what I know, Miss McHale and Mr. Grisham are the two best
students to show you around here. Miss McHale, I heard you might
have landed a cameo on Law and Order.”
Katherine giggled and blushed, proving she could do the latter on
command. She glanced at the concrete sidewalk and ducked her
chin. “I cannot confirm or deny.”
She had the innocent act down, and it made me resent her more.
At least own the type of person you were.
I winced internally. My attitude was hypocritical since I had lied
about why I’d walked here. I wasn’t owning who I was, but I didn’t
want the senator to attempt to spend more money on me. He’d
done more than enough…more than anyone else ever had besides
my parents.
“I think that speaks for itself.” Bob chuckled.
“And Mr. Grisham.” Michelle leaned forward, and I noticed how
much makeup she had on her face. I’d heard people on screen had
to wear thick makeup, so maybe that was the reason. She held out
her mic to Carter. “We hear there’s been a shake-up on the football
team this year with some player transfers. How do you feel about
that, and do you think you can win the championship?”
Carter’s charismatic side shone through again. He smiled, and
unlike Katherine, it seemed genuine and not calculated. “Well, we
did win a bowl game last year, and the new recruits feel like they’ve
always been part of the team. I can’t predict the future, but with
guys like them on the field, nothing’s off the table.”
Now, both reporters turned toward me, and my chest tightened.
I chanted internally, Please don’t ask me anything. Please.
“Miss Stone.” Michelle pressed her lips together. “What are your
plans for this year?”
I almost laughed. I doubted the real answer—surviving—would
be taken well. “To work hard and make sure that I don’t let Senator
McHale, Senator Grisham, or their families down…not when they’ve
done so much to get me here.”
Senator McHale burst out laughing. “Oh, Evie. You don’t need to
worry. You had a perfect GPA at Tennessee State University—I’m
sure you’ll do just fine here.”
My stomach clenched. Yet another thing he knew about me, but
of course he’d know that. He’d needed my transcripts to get me
accepted here.
Not wanting to be outdone, Bob moved forward. “What about
extracurricular activities? What do you plan to do?”
I froze. I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I wouldn’t have time to
commit to a permanent activity—I was going to have to get a job to
pay for rent, food, and all the other random expenses that I’d have
while attending here. I didn’t want to lie—what if they followed up?
Carter stepped forward, placing a hand on my lower back. “Evie
just got here, and she’s still trying to get acclimated. She’s just been
dealt a mind-blowing loss. I doubt she’s had time to think about
extracurriculars yet, but she’ll figure it out. I’m sure of it.”
And just like that, he’d become a nice guy once again. Man, I
was getting whiplash because it was like the two sides of him were
at war over which would come out. No doubt, the camera had
everything to do with this show of support.
 “What’s your major, Evie?” Michelle asked.
That one didn’t require much thought. “Psychology. I want to get
a job with the state to help children in foster care and help evaluate
potential parents to ensure they’re a good fit.”
Carter’s breath caught, and his brows furrowed. His hand
dropped from my back.
His reaction indicated surprise, but I didn’t know why that would
be. He must have known what I was studying, given his father had
also supported my acceptance here.
“What a great life goal.” Michelle placed a hand over her heart as
a sad smile spread across her lips. “That’s an important job that will
make a huge impact. What inspired you to decide on that major?”
“I was adopted.” I bit my lip but held my head high. “And I never
felt like I was because I had amazing parents. They treated me like I
was their own, and no one realized I wasn’t their biological child
unless one of us told them. I was lucky, but so many kids aren’t. I
want to give every child a chance to feel safe and loved, and this is
one of the best ways I know how to achieve it.”
Beaming, Bob patted Senator McHale’s arm and said, “No wonder
you chose to sponsor her. With a lofty goal like that, she’ll have a
very bright future. I bet there aren’t many students as qualified
either.”
My face flamed, and I stared at the concrete.
“Yes, she is quite worthy,” Mrs. McHale said, but I heard a hint of
tension in her tone. “But don’t worry. We’ll make sure we give her
everything she needs to be independent from us and stand on her
own.” She cut her gaze at me.
Message received. Mrs. McHale didn’t like having me around any
more than Katherine did.
Bob turned to Carter. “I can see why your father also wanted to
support this young lady, given your work behind getting the
foundation Touchdown 4 Kids off the ground.”
I startled. Carter volunteered to help underprivileged kids? My
jaw dropped as he replied, “Touchdown 4 Kids is a great
organization doing their best to give children access to learning
sports no matter their personal circumstances. I have been honored
to help them gather the necessary paperwork to get the organization
structured to ensure that it’s nonprofit and can accept donations
easily.”
“And will you be funding the organization—” Bob started.
“Well, I hate to cut this short…” Carter said as he walked over
and wrapped an arm around Katherine’s waist.
My heart panged. It had to be the stress and the heat of the day.
However…it didn’t help that I found Carter extremely attractive,
especially now that I knew he wanted to help kids too.
“Katherine and I should take Evie to the bookstore and help her
find her books before they’re picked over,” Carter continued, and he
reached over and gently gripped my arm.
My skin prickled at his touch. The sensation was strange and
disconcerting. However, I didn’t want to make a scene, so I didn’t
jerk away.
“Of course.” Senator McHale chuckled. “It’s hot out here anyway.
Head on in while Lisa and I finish up with Michelle and Bob. We
won’t be long.”
Katherine stepped out of Carter’s grip and kissed her father’s
cheek before turning around and looping her arm through mine like
we were already friends.
This time, I wasn’t fooled. She’d already shown her true colors,
and I swallowed hard, trying to keep bile from inching up my throat.
After today, things would be better. The senator wouldn’t be here,
and the media wouldn’t be around. I could come and go on campus,
and no one would notice me. This would be the hardest day that I
had.
The three of us strolled to the door with me in the middle,
forcing one foot in front of the other. Carter still held my arm, and
the tingles were surging through my entire body. Katherine gripped
my other arm tightly. Maybe she thought I might try to run away.
I moved faster, wanting to get away from the cameras and free
of both of them touching me.
“Slow down,” Katherine hissed. “The last thing we need is for the
reporters to think we’re running off, and besides, I can’t run in
heels.”
 I inhaled and slowed my pace. When we reached the door, Carter
quickly opened it and waved Katherine and me in.
I walked into a large room with purple walls and gray tiled
flooring, with at least two hundred rectangular tables spaced around
it, each table seating eight. On the other side of the space, an open
cafeteria gleamed, ready for students to arrive, with Hallowed Saints
Café written across the awning. That space was decorated in a
lighter shade of purple than the room with the tables.
We continued toward the other end of the building, where the
entrance to the bookstore was. When we got far enough away from
the doors, Katherine released her hold on me with a frown.
I waited for a barrage of insults, but she didn’t say anything; she
just continued to march toward the bookstore.
Carter eyed me. I nearly flinched, but I refused to give him any
sort of reaction. I didn’t need to make myself more of a target.
“You did good out there,” he said.
My body warmed at his praise, and I looked directly at him and
immediately regretted it. Those eyes were dark, the kindness gone,
and worst of all, calculating, as if he were trying to see straight into
my soul.
“She did decently.” Katherine spun on her heels. “The last thing
you need to do is compliment her. We still don’t know why she’s
here.”
I rolled my eyes. “How is your father helping me any different
than getting Grayson and other football players to transfer here?”
“It’s not.” Carter grimaced. “Those assholes shouldn’t be here.
Our team would be fine without them.”
“That may be true.” Katherine shrugged. “But it helps that your
dad recruited strong players who were already being scouted. It
ensures scouts will come here and gives you a better chance of
being drafted.”
She had a point, but the way she presented it made it seem like
the cameras were still rolling.
“We’d do just as well if they weren’t here.” Carter scowled. “I’ve
worked my ass off, and if I get drafted, it won’t be because of
them.”
 I didn’t want to listen to this conversation. The disgust rolling off
Carter strengthened my urge to leave. Plus, the longer I stayed
here, the less time I would have to find a job.
I breezed past Katherine into the bookstore, glad that they
continued talking. That would give me a few minutes’ reprieve.
A flyer on top of all the older ones on a pinboard at the entrance
caught my eye.
Summer Internships in Spain for Psychology and Business
Students.
Wow. A trip like that would be amazing, but I couldn’t afford my
next meal, let alone hope to be chosen for something like that. I’d
been taking Spanish because there was a large Hispanic population
near Chattanooga and I wanted to help those kids too, and studying
in Spain would help me with that goal.
Pushing that dream away, I walked toward the bookshelves,
reading signs to find my class texts. Grayson appeared at my side.
Not wanting him to ask any questions, I pulled my schedule from
my back pocket and unfolded it so I could see what books I needed.
“Here’s what I’m looking for.” I read the list off to him.
The two of us went to work, searching for it all.
The bookstore was a lot nicer than the one at my former college.
The carpet was thick and dark purple, and the walls were muted
gold, the decor the shade of the school colors.
Luckily, the place was hyperorganized, and I was able to find a
used copy of every book I needed. The new ones were already
gone, the opposite of how things had worked at TSU. But I’d rather
have used books with former students’ highlights and notes.
I found everything on my list except the camera needed for my
photography class. That was something that they’d loan us in the
classroom.
“Well, that’s it.” Grayson glanced at his own pile of books and
then mine. “Unfortunately, that means that it’s time to deal with…”
He trailed off, a smirk on his lips.
I turned around to find Katherine right behind me. She glanced
over her shoulder just as Senator and Mrs. McHale entered the
store.
 She moved toward me and said, “Here comes Daddy. You’re
going to play nice with me, right?”
I hated that she had such control over me because I didn’t truly
have a choice. It was either play along or have a rough senior year
being stuck with her. “Of course.”
Lifting an eyebrow, she looked me over, trying to gauge my
sincerity. She was afraid I was going to rat her out to her daddy. Part
of me wanted to do just that.
 CHAPTER FIVE

T he senator and his wife were now only twenty or so feet away.
The senator’s attention was locked on Katherine, Grayson, and
me while his wife glanced in the direction of the exit. I was pretty
sure she’d rather be anywhere but here.
On television, they came across as the picture-perfect family, but
seeing them in person exposed some cracks in Lisa’s and Katherine’s
facades. There was a coldness to them that made them hard to
relate to, whereas the senator was even more charismatic in person,
commanding the room, much like Carter.
“I’m serious. Let’s be friendly, okay? And we can just ignore each
other on campus when he’s not here.” She bit her bottom lip, but her
eyes didn’t hold any warmth.
Grayson chuckled and leaned toward me while he murmured,
“Does she think that will actually make you play along with her?
Even Carter isn’t this bad. He’s just an arrogant prick.”
Like he’d been summoned, Carter stepped around the closest
rack of HSU T-shirts. My breath caught as we locked gazes. He had a
slight scowl on his face, which made me fear that he’d heard
Grayson.
“Listen here.” Katherine tossed her hair over her shoulders like
she had earlier. “You can’t talk about my boyfriend—”
“Not your boyfriend, Katherine,” Carter gritted out as he stepped
beside me. “We broke up last semester, and there’s no going back.”
Another random document with
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we have some interest. I think that as white men we have. Do we not
wish for an outlet for our surplus population, if I may so express
myself? Do we not feel an interest in getting at that outlet with such
institutions as we would like to have prevail there? If you go to the
Territory opposed to slavery and another man comes upon the same
ground with his slave, upon the assumption that the things are equal,
it turns out that he has the equal right all his way and you have no
part of it your way. If he goes in and makes it a slave Territory, and
by consequence a slave State, is it not time that those who desire to
have it a free State were on equal ground? Let me suggest it in a
different way. How many Democrats are there about here [“A
thousand”] who left slave States and came into the free State of
Illinois to get rid of the institution of slavery? [Another voice—“A
thousand and one.”] I reckon there are a thousand and one. I will ask
you, if the policy you are now advocating had prevailed when this
country was in a Territorial condition, where would you have gone to
get rid of it? Where would you have found your free State or
Territory to go to? And when hereafter, for any cause, the people in
this place shall desire to find new homes, if they wish to be rid of the
institution, where will they find the place to go to?
Now irrespective of the moral aspect of this question as to whether
there is a right or wrong in enslaving a negro, I am still in favor of
our new Territories being in such a condition that white men may
find a home—may find some spot where they can better their
condition—where they can settle upon new soil and better their
condition in life. I am in favor of this not merely (I must say it here
as I have elsewhere) for our own people who are born amongst us,
but as an outlet for free white people every where, the world over—
in which Hans and Baptiste and Patrick, and all other men from all
the world, may find new homes and better their conditions in life.
I have stated upon former occasions, and I may as well state again,
what I understand to be the real issue in this controversy between
Judge Douglas and myself. On the point of my wanting to make war
between the free and the slave States, there has been no issue
between us. So, too, when he assumes that I am in favor of
introducing a perfect social and political equality between the white
and black races. These are false issues, upon which Judge Douglas
has tried to force the controversy. There is no foundation in truth for
the charge that I maintain either of these propositions. The real issue
in this controversy—the one pressing upon every mind—is the
sentiment on the part of one class that looks upon the institution of
slavery as a wrong, and of another class that does not look upon it as
a wrong. The sentiment that contemplates the institution of slavery
in this country as a wrong is the sentiment of the Republican party. It
is the sentiment around which all their actions—all their arguments
circle—from which all their propositions radiate. They look upon it as
being a moral, social and political wrong; and while they contemplate
it as such, they nevertheless have due regard for its actual existence
among us, and the difficulties of getting rid of it in any satisfactory
way and to all the constitutional obligations thrown about it. Yet
having a due regard for these, they desire a policy in regard to it that
looks to its not creating any more danger. They insist that it should
as far as may be, be treated as a wrong, and one of the methods of
treating it as a wrong is to make provision that it shall grow no
larger. They also desire a policy that looks to a peaceful end of
slavery at some time, as being wrong. These are the views they
entertain in regard to it as I understand them; and all their
sentiments—all their arguments and propositions are brought within
this range. I have said, and I repeat it here, that if there be a man
amongst us who does not think that the institution of slavery is
wrong, in any one of the aspects of which I have spoken, he is
misplaced and ought not to be with us. And if there be a man
amongst us who is so impatient of it as a wrong as to disregard its
actual presence among us and the difficulty of getting rid of it
suddenly in a satisfactory way, and to disregard the constitutional
obligations thrown about it, that man is misplaced if he is on our
platform. We disclaim sympathy with him in practical action. He is
not placed properly with us.
On this subject of treating it as a wrong, and limiting its spread, let
me say a word. Has any thing ever threatened the existence of this
Union save and except this very institution of slavery? What is it that
we hold most dear amongst us? Our own liberty and prosperity.
What has ever threatened our liberty and prosperity save and except
this institution of slavery? If this is true, how do you propose to
improve the condition of things by enlarging slavery—by spreading it
out and making it bigger? You may have a wen or cancer upon your
person and not be able to cut it out lest you bleed to death; but surely
it is no way to cure it, to engraft it and spread it over your whole
body. That is no proper way of treating what you regard a wrong. You
see this peaceful way of dealing with it as a wrong—restricting the
spread of it, and not allowing it to go into new countries where it has
not already existed. That is the peaceful way, the old-fashioned way,
the way in which the fathers themselves set us the example.
On the other hand, I have said there is a sentiment which treats it
as not being wrong. That is the Democratic sentiment of this day. I
do not mean to say that every man who stands within that range
positively asserts that it is right. That class will include all who
positively assert that it is right, and all who like Judge Douglas treat
it as indifferent and do not say it is either right or wrong. These two
classes of men fall within the general class of those who do not look
upon it as a wrong. And if there be among you any body who
supposes that he, as a Democrat, can consider himself “as much
opposed to slavery as anybody,” I would like to reason with him. You
never treat it as a wrong. What other thing that you consider as a
wrong, do you deal with as you deal with that? Perhaps you say it is
wrong, but your leader never does, and you quarrel with any body
who says it is wrong. Although you pretend to say so yourself you
can find no fit place to deal with it as a wrong. You must not say any
thing about it in the free States, because it is not here. You must not
say any thing about it in the slave States, because it is there. You
must not say anything about it in the pulpit, because that is religion
and has nothing to do with it. You must not say any thing about it in
politics, because that will disturb the security of “my place.” There is
no place to talk about it as being a wrong, although you say yourself
it is a wrong. But finally you will screw yourself up to the belief that if
the people of the slave States should adopt a system of gradual
emancipation on the slavery question, you would be in favor of it.
You would be in favor of it. You say that is getting it in the right
place, and you would be glad to see it succeed. But you are deceiving
yourself. You all know that Frank Blair and Gratz Brown, down there
in St. Louis, undertook to introduce that system in Missouri. They
fought as valiantly as they could for the system of gradual
emancipation which you pretend you would be glad to see succeed.
Now I will bring you to the test. After a hard fight they were beaten,
and when the news came over here you threw up your hats and
hurrahed for Democracy. More than that, take all the argument
made in favor of the system you have proposed, and it carefully
excludes the idea that there is any thing wrong in the institution of
slavery. The arguments to sustain that policy carefully excluded it.
Even here to-day you heard Judge Douglas quarrel with me because I
uttered a wish that it might some time come to an end. Although
Henry Clay could say he wished every slave in the United States was
in the country of his ancestors, I am denounced by those pretending
to respect Henry Clay for uttering a wish that it might some time, in
some peaceful way, come to an end. The Democratic policy in regard
to that institution will not tolerate the merest breath, the slightest
hint, of the least degree of wrong about it. Try it by some of Judge
Douglas’s arguments. He says he “don’t care whether it is voted up or
voted down” in the Territories. I do not care myself in dealing with
that expression, whether it is intended to be expressive of his
individual sentiments on the subject, or only of the national policy he
desires to have established. It is alike valuable for my purpose. Any
man can say that he does not see any thing wrong in slavery, but no
man can logically say it who does see a wrong in it; because no man
can logically say he don’t care whether a wrong is voted up or voted
down. He may say he don’t care whether an indifferent thing is voted
up or down, but he must logically have a choice between a right thing
and a wrong thing. He contends that whatever community wants
slaves has a right to have them. So they have if it is not a wrong. But
if it is a wrong, he cannot say people have a right to do wrong. He
says that upon the score of equality, slaves should be allowed to go in
a new Territory, like other property. This is strictly logical if there is
no difference between it and other property. If it and other property
are equal, his argument is entirely logical. But if you insist that one is
wrong and the other right, there is no use to institute a comparison
between right and wrong. You may turn over every thing in the
Democratic policy from beginning to end, whether in the shape it
takes on the statute books, in the shape it takes in the Dred Scott
decision, in the shape it takes in conversation, or the shape it takes in
short maxim-like arguments—it everywhere carefully excludes the
idea that there is any thing wrong in it.
That is the real issue. That is the issue that will continue in this
country when these poor tongues of Judge Douglas and myself shall
be silent. It is the eternal struggle between these two principles—
right and wrong—throughout the world. They are the two principles
that have stood face to face from the beginning of time; and will ever
continue to struggle. The one is the common right of humanity and
the other the divine right of kings. It is the same principle in
whatever shape it develops itself. It is the same spirit that says, “You
work and toil and earn bread, and I’ll eat it.” No matter in what
shape it comes, whether from the mouth of a king who seeks to
bestride the people of his own nation and live by the fruit of their
labor, or from one race of men as an apology for enslaving another
race, it is the same tyrannical principle. I was glad to express my
gratitude at Quincy, and I re-express it here to Judge Douglas—that
he looks to no end of the institution of slavery. That will help the
people to see where the struggle really is. It will hereafter place with
us all men who really do wish the wrong may have an end. And
whenever we can get rid of the fog which obscures the real question—
when we can get Judge Douglas and his friends to avow a policy
looking to its perpetuation—we can get out from among that class of
men and bring them to the side of those who treat it as a wrong.
Then there will soon be an end of it, and that end will be its “ultimate
extinction.” Whenever the issue can be distinctly made, and all
extraneous matter thrown out so that men can fairly see the real
difference between the parties, this controversy will soon be settled,
and it will be done peaceably too. There will be no war, no violence.
It will be placed again where the wisest and best men of the world
placed it. Brooks of South Carolina once declared that when this
Constitution was framed, its framers did not look to the institution
existing until this day. When he said this, I think he stated a fact that
is fully borne out by the history of the times. But he also said they
were better and wiser men than the men of these days; yet the men
of these days had experience which they had not, and by the
invention of the cotton-gin it became a necessity in this country that
slavery should be perpetual. I now say that, willingly or unwillingly,
purposely or without purpose, Judge Douglas has been the most
prominent instrument in changing the position of the institution of
slavery which the fathers of the Government expected to come to an
end ere this—and putting it upon Brooks’s cotton-gin basis—placing
it where he openly confesses he has no desire there shall ever be an
end of it.
I understand I have ten minutes yet. I will employ it in saying
something about this argument Judge Douglas uses, while he
sustains the Dred Scott decision, that the people of the Territories
can still somehow exclude slavery. The first thing I ask attention to is
the fact that Judge Douglas constantly said, before the decision, that
whether they could or not, was a question for the Supreme Court.
But after the court has made the decision he virtually says it is not a
question for the Supreme Court, but for the people. And how is it he
tells us they can exclude it? He says it needs “police regulations,” and
that admits of “unfriendly legislation.” Although it is a right
established by the Constitution of the United States to take a slave
into a Territory of the United States and hold him as property, yet
unless the Territorial Legislature will give friendly legislation, and,
more especially, if they adopt unfriendly legislation, they can
practically exclude him. Now, without meeting this proposition as a
matter of fact, I pass to consider the real Constitutional obligation.
Let me take the gentleman who looks me in the face before me, and
let us suppose that he is a member of the Territorial Legislature. The
first thing he will do will be to swear that he will support the
Constitution of the United States. His neighbor by his side in the
Territory has slaves and needs Territorial legislation to enable him to
enjoy that Constitutional right. Can he withhold the legislation which
his neighbor needs for the enjoyment of a right which is fixed in his
favor in the Constitution of the United States which he has sworn to
support? Can he withhold it without violating his oath? And more
especially, can he pass unfriendly legislation to violate his oath?
Why, this is a monstrous sort of talk about the Constitution of the
United States! There has never been as outlandish or lawless a
doctrine from the mouth of any respectable man on earth. I do not
believe it is a Constitutional right to hold slaves in a Territory of the
United States. I believe the decision was improperly made and I go
for reversing it. Judge Douglas is furious against those who go for
reversing a decision. But he is for legislating it out of all force while
the law itself stands. I repeat that there has never been so monstrous
a doctrine uttered from the mouth of a respectable man.
I suppose most of us (I know it of myself) believe that the people of
the Southern States are entitled to a Congressional Fugitive Slave law
—that is a right fixed in the Constitution. But it cannot be made
available to them without Congressional legislation. In the Judge’s
language, it is a “barren right” which needs legislation before it can
become efficient and valuable to the persons to whom it is
guarantied. And as the right is Constitutional I agree that the
legislation shall be granted to it—and that not that we like the
institution of slavery. We profess to have no taste for running and
catching niggers—at least I profess no taste for that job at all. Why
then do I yield support to a Fugitive Slave law? Because I do not
understand that the Constitution, which guaranties that right, can be
supported without it. And if I believed that the right to hold a slave in
a Territory was equally fixed in the Constitution with the right to
reclaim fugitives, I should be bound to give it the legislation
necessary to support it. I say that no man can deny his obligation to
give the necessary legislation to support slavery in a Territory, who
believes it is a Constitutional right to have it there. No man can, who
does not give the Abolitionists an argument to deny the obligation
enjoined by the Constitution to enact a Fugitive Slave law. Try it now.
It is the strongest Abolition argument ever made. I say if that Dred
Scott decision is correct, then the right to hold slaves in a Territory is
equally a Constitutional right with the right of a slaveholder to have
his runaway returned. No one can show the distinction between
them. The one is express, so that we cannot deny it. The other is
construed to be in the Constitution, so that he who believes the
decision to be correct believes in the right. And the man who argues
that by unfriendly legislation, in spite of that Constitutional right,
slavery may be driven from the Territories, cannot avoid furnishing
an argument by which Abolitionists may deny the obligation to
return fugitives, and claim the power to pass laws unfriendly to the
right of the slaveholder to reclaim his fugitive. I do not know how
such an argument may strike a popular assembly like this, but I defy
any body to go before a body of men whose minds are educated to
estimating evidence and reasoning, and show that there is an iota of
difference between the Constitutional right to reclaim a fugitive, and
the Constitutional right to hold a slave, in a Territory, provided this
Dred Scott decision is correct. I defy any man to make an argument
that will justify unfriendly legislation to deprive a slaveholder of his
right to hold his slave in a Territory, that will not equally, in all its
length, breadth and thickness, furnish an argument for nullifying the
Fugitive Slave law. Why, there is not such an Abolitionist in the
nation as Douglas, after all.
 MR. DOUGLAS’S REPLY.

Mr. Lincoln has concluded his remarks by saying that there is not
such an Abolitionist as I am in all America. If he could make the
Abolitionists of Illinois believe that, he would not have much show
for the Senate. Let him make the Abolitionists believe the truth of
that statement and his political back is broken.
His first criticism upon me is the expression of his hope that the
war of the Administration will be prosecuted against me and the
Democratic party of this State with vigor. He wants that war
prosecuted with vigor; I have no doubt of it. His hopes of success,
and the hopes of his party depend solely upon it. They have no
chance of destroying the Democracy of this State except by the aid of
federal patronage. He has all the federal office-holders here as his
allies, running separate tickets against the Democracy to divide the
party, although the leaders all intend to vote directly the Abolition
ticket, and only leave the greenhorns to vote this separate ticket who
refuse to go into the Abolition camp. There is something really
refreshing in the thought that Mr. Lincoln is in favor of prosecuting
one war vigorously. It is the first war I ever knew him to be in favor
of prosecuting. It is the first war I ever knew him to believe to be just
or Constitutional. When the Mexican war was being waged, and the
American army was surrounded by the enemy in Mexico, he thought
that war was unconstitutional, unnecessary, and unjust. He thought
it was not commenced on the right spot.
When I made an incidental allusion of that kind in the joint
discussion over at Charleston some weeks ago, Lincoln, in replying,
said that I, Douglas, had charged him with voting against supplies for
the Mexican war, and then he reared up, full length, and swore that
he never voted against the supplies—that it was a slander—and
caught hold of Ficklin, who sat on the stand, and said, “Here, Ficklin,
tell the people that it is a lie.” Well, Ficklin, who had served in
Congress with him, stood up and told them all that he recollected
about it. It was that when George Ashmun, of Massachusetts,
brought forward a resolution declaring the war unconstitutional,
unnecessary, and unjust, that Lincoln had voted for it. “Yes,” said
Lincoln, “I did.” Thus he confessed that he voted that the war was
wrong, that our country was in the wrong, and consequently that the
Mexicans were in the right; but charged that I had slandered him by
saying that he voted against the supplies. I never charged him with
voting against the supplies in my life, because I knew that he was not
in Congress when they were voted. The war was commenced on the
13th day of May, 1846, and on that day we appropriated in Congress
ten millions of dollars and fifty thousand men to prosecute it. During
the same session we voted more men and more money, and at the
next session we voted more men and more money, so that by the
time Mr. Lincoln entered Congress we had enough men and enough
money to carry on the war, and had no occasion to vote for any more.
When he got into the House, being opposed to the war, and not being
able to stop the supplies, because they had all gone forward, all he
could do was to follow the lead of Corwin, and prove that the war was
not begun on the right spot, and that it was unconstitutional,
unnecessary, and wrong. Remember, too, that this he did after the
war had been begun. It is one thing to be opposed to the declaration
of a war, another and very different thing to take sides with the
enemy against your own country after the war has been commenced.
Our army was in Mexico at the time, many battles had been fought;
our citizens, who were defending the honor of their country’s flag,
were surrounded by the daggers, the guns and the poison of the
enemy. Then it was that Corwin made his speech in which he
declared that the American soldiers ought to be welcomed by the
Mexicans with bloody hands and hospitable graves; then it was that
Ashmun and Lincoln voted in the House of Representatives that the
war was unconstitutional and unjust; and Ashmun’s resolution,
Corwin’s speech, and Lincoln’s vote, were sent to Mexico and read at
the head of the Mexican army, to prove to them that there was a
Mexican party in the Congress of the United States who were doing
all in their power to aid them. That a man who takes sides with the
common enemy against his own country in time of war should
rejoice in a war being made on me now, is very natural. And in my
opinion, no other kind of a man would rejoice in it.
Mr. Lincoln has told you a great deal to-day about his being an old
line Clay Whig. Bear in mind that there are a great many old Clay
Whigs down in this region. It is more agreeable, therefore, for him to
talk about the old Clay Whig party than it is for him to talk
Abolitionism. We did not hear much about the old Clay Whig party
up in the Abolition districts. How much of an old line Henry Clay
Whig was he? Have you read General Singleton’s speech at
Jacksonville? You know that Gen. Singleton was, for twenty-five
years, the confidential friend of Henry Clay in Illinois, and he
testified that in 1847, when the Constitutional Convention of this
State was in session, the Whig members were invited to a Whig
caucus at the house of Mr. Lincoln’s brother-in-law, where Mr.
Lincoln proposed to throw Henry Clay overboard and take up Gen.
Taylor in his place, giving, as his reason, that if the Whigs did not
take up Gen. Taylor the Democrats would. Singleton testifies that
Lincoln, in that speech, urged, as another reason for throwing Henry
Clay overboard, that the Whigs had fought long enough for principle
and ought to begin to fight for success. Singleton also testifies that
Lincoln’s speech did have the effect of cutting Clay’s throat, and that
he (Singleton) and others withdrew from the caucus in indignation.
He further states that when they got to Philadelphia to attend the
National Convention of the Whig party, that Lincoln was there, the
bitter and deadly enemy of Clay, and that he tried to keep him
(Singleton) out of the Convention because he insisted on voting for
Clay, and Lincoln was determined to have Taylor. Singleton says that
Lincoln rejoiced with very great joy when he found the mangled
remains of the murdered Whig statesman lying cold before him.
Now, Mr. Lincoln tells you that he is an old line Clay Whig! Gen.
Singleton testifies to the facts I have narrated, in a public speech
which has been printed and circulated broadcast over the State for
weeks, yet not a lisp have we heard from Mr. Lincoln on the subject,
except that he is an old Clay Whig.
What part of Henry Clay’s policy did Lincoln ever advocate? He
was in Congress in 1848–9, when the Wilmot proviso warfare
disturbed the peace and harmony of the country, until it shook the
foundation of the Republic from its centre to its circumference. It
was that agitation that brought Clay forth from his retirement at
Ashland again to occupy his seat in the Senate of the United States,
to see if he could not, by his great wisdom and experience, and the
renown of his name, do something to restore peace and quiet to a
disturbed country. Who got up that sectional strife that Clay had to
be called upon to quell? I have heard Lincoln boast that he voted
forty-two times for the Wilmot proviso, and that he would have voted
as many times more if he could. Lincoln is the man, in connection
with Seward, Chase, Giddings, and other Abolitionists, who got up
that strife that I helped Clay to put down. Henry Clay came back to
the Senate in 1849, and saw that he must do something to restore
peace to the country. The Union Whigs and the Union Democrats
welcomed him the moment he arrived, as the man for the occasion.
We believed that he, of all men on earth, had been preserved by
Divine Providence to guide us out of our difficulties, and we
Democrats rallied under Clay then, as you Whigs in nullification time
rallied under the banner of old Jackson, forgetting party when the
country was in danger, in order that we might have a country first,
and parties afterward.
And this reminds me that Mr. Lincoln told you that the slavery
question was the only thing that ever disturbed the peace and
harmony of the Union. Did not nullification once raise its head and
disturb the peace of this Union in 1832? Was that the slavery
question, Mr. Lincoln? Did not disunion raise its monster head
during the last war with Great Britain? Was that the slavery question,
Mr. Lincoln? The peace of this country has been disturbed three
times, once during the war with Great Britain, once on the tariff
question, and once on the slavery question. His argument, therefore,
that slavery is the only question that has ever created dissension in
the Union falls to the ground. It is true that agitators are enabled
now to use this slavery question for the purpose of sectional strife.
He admits that in regard to all things else, the principle that I
advocate, making each State and Territory free to decide for itself,
ought to prevail. He instances the cranberry laws, and the oyster
laws, and he might have gone through the whole list with the same
effect. I say that all these laws are local and domestic, and that local
and domestic concerns should be left to each State and each
Territory to manage for itself. If agitators would acquiesce in that
principle, there never would be any danger to the peace and harmony
of the Union.
Mr. Lincoln tries to avoid the main issue by attacking the truth of
my proposition, that our fathers made this Government divided into
free and slave States, recognizing the right of each to decide all its
local questions for itself. Did they not thus make it? It is true that
they did not establish slavery in any of the States, or abolish it in any
of them; but finding thirteen States, twelve of which were slave and
one free, they agreed to form a government uniting them together, as
they stood divided into free and slave States, and to guaranty forever
to each State the right to do as it pleased on the slavery question.
Having thus made the government, and conferred this right upon
each State forever, I assert that this Government can exist as they
made it, divided into free and slave States, if any one State chooses to
retain slavery. He says that he looks forward to a time when slavery
shall be abolished everywhere. I look forward to a time when each
State shall be allowed to do as it pleases. If it chooses to keep slavery
forever, it is not my business, but its own; if it chooses to abolish
slavery, it is its own business—not mine. I care more for the great
principle of self-government, the right of the people to rule, than I do
for all the negroes in Christendom. I would not endanger the
perpetuity of this Union, I would not blot out the great inalienable
rights of the white men for all the negroes that ever existed. Hence, I
say, let us maintain this Government on the principles that our
fathers made it, recognizing the right of each State to keep slavery as
long as its people determine, or to abolish it when they please. But
Mr. Lincoln says that when our fathers made this Government they
did not look forward to the state of things now existing; and
therefore he thinks the doctrine was wrong; and he quotes Brooks, of
South Carolina, to prove that our fathers then thought that probably
slavery would be abolished by each State acting for itself before this
time. Suppose they did; suppose they did not foresee what has
occurred,—does that change the principles of our Government? They
did not probably foresee the telegraph that transmits intelligence by
lightning, nor did they foresee the railroads that now form the bonds
of union between the different States, or the thousand mechanical
inventions that have elevated mankind. But do these things change
the principles of the Government? Our fathers, I say, made this
Government on the principle of the right of each State to do as it
pleases in its own domestic affairs, subject to the Constitution, and
allowed the people of each to apply to every new change of
circumstances such remedy as they may see fit to improve their
condition. This right they have for all time to come.
Mr. Lincoln went on to tell you that he did not at all desire to
interfere with slavery in the States where it exists, nor does his party.
I expected him to say that down here. Let me ask him then how he
expects to put slavery in the course of ultimate extinction every
where, if he does not intend to interfere with it in the States where it
exists? He says that he will prohibit it in all the Territories, and the
inference is, then, that unless they make free States out of them he
will keep them out of the Union; for, mark you, he did not say
whether or not he would vote to admit Kansas with slavery or not, as
her people might apply (he forgot that as usual, etc.); he did not say
whether or not he was in favor of bringing the Territories now in
existence into the Union on the principle of Clay’s Compromise
measures on the slavery question. I told you that he would not. His
idea is that he will prohibit slavery in all the Territories and thus
force them all to become free States, surrounding the slave States
with a cordon of free States and hemming them in, keeping the
slaves confined to their present limits whilst they go on multiplying
until the soil on which they live will no longer feed them, and he will
thus be able to put slavery in a course of ultimate extinction by
starvation. He will extinguish slavery in the Southern States as the
French general did the Algerines when he smoked them out. He is
going to extinguish slavery by surrounding the slave States, hemming
in the slaves, and starving them out of existence, as you smoke a fox
out of his hole. He intends to do that in the name of humanity and
Christianity, in order that we may get rid of the terrible crime and sin
entailed upon our fathers of holding slaves. Mr. Lincoln makes out
that line of policy, and appeals to the moral sense of justice and to
the Christian feeling of the community to sustain him. He says that
any man who holds to the contrary doctrine is in the position of the
king who claimed to govern by divine right. Let us examine for a
moment and see what principle it was that overthrew the Divine
right of George the Third to govern us. Did not these colonies rebel
because the British parliament had no right to pass laws concerning
our property and domestic and private institutions without our
consent? We demanded that the British Government should not pass
such laws unless they gave us representation in the body passing
them,—and this the British government insisting on doing,—we went
to war, on the principle that the Home Government should not
control and govern distant colonies without giving them
representation. Now, Mr. Lincoln proposes to govern the Territories
without giving them a representation, and calls on Congress to pass
laws controlling their property and domestic concerns without their
consent and against their will. Thus, he asserts for his party the
identical principle asserted by George III. and the Tories of the
Revolution.
I ask you to look into these things, and then tell me whether the
Democracy or the Abolitionists are right. I hold that the people of a
Territory, like those of a State (I use the language of Mr. Buchanan in
his letter of acceptance), have the right to decide for themselves
whether slavery shall or shall not exist within their limits. The point
upon which Chief Justice Taney expresses his opinion is simply this,
that slaves being property, stand on an equal footing with other
property, and consequently that the owner has the same right to
carry that property into a Territory that he has any other, subject to
the same conditions. Suppose that one of your merchants was to take
fifty or one hundred thousand dollars’ worth of liquors to Kansas. He
has a right to go there under that decision, but when he gets there he
finds the Maine liquor law in force, and what can he do with his
property after he gets it there? He cannot sell it, he cannot use it, it is
subject to the local law, and that law is against him, and the best
thing he can do with it is to bring it back into Missouri or Illinois and
sell it. If you take negroes to Kansas, as Col. Jeff. Davis said in his
Bangor speech, from which I have quoted to-day, you must take
them there subject to the local law. If the people want the institution
of slavery they will protect and encourage it; but if they do not want
it they will withhold that protection, and the absence of local
legislation protecting slavery excludes it as completely as a positive
prohibition. You slaveholders of Missouri might as well understand
what you know practically, that you cannot carry slavery where the
people do not want it. All you have a right to ask is that the people
shall do as they please; if they want slavery let them have it; if they
do not want it, allow them to refuse to encourage it.
My friends, if, as I have said before, we will only live up to this
great fundamental principle, there will be peace between the North
and the South. Mr. Lincoln admits that under the Constitution on all
domestic questions, except slavery, we ought not to interfere with the
people of each State. What right have we to interfere with slavery any
more than we have to interfere with any other question? He says that
this slavery question is now the bone of contention. Why? Simply
because agitators have combined in all the free States to make war
upon it. Suppose the agitators in the States should combine in one-
half of the Union to make war upon the railroad system of the other
half? They would thus be driven to the same sectional strife. Suppose
one section makes war upon any other peculiar institution of the
opposite section and the same strife is produced. The only remedy
and safety is that we shall stand by the Constitution as our fathers
made it, obey the laws as they are passed, while they stand the
proper test and sustain the decisions of the Supreme Court and the
constituted authorities.
Speech of Hon. Jefferson Davis, Senator from
Mississippi,
 On retiring from the United States Senate. Delivered in the Senate
Chamber January 21, 1861.
I rise, Mr. President, for the purpose of announcing to the Senate
that I have satisfactory evidence that the State of Mississippi, by a
solemn ordinance of her people in convention assembled, has
declared her separation from the United States. Under these
circumstances, of course my functions are terminated here. It has
seemed to me proper, however, that I should appear in the Senate to
announce that fact to my associates, and I will say but very little
more. The occasion does not invite me to go into argument; and my
physical condition would not permit me to do so if it were otherwise,
and yet it seems to become me to say something on the part of the
State I here represent, on an occasion so solemn as this. It is known
to Senators who have served with me here, that I have for many years
advocated as an essential attribute of State sovereignty, the right of a
State to secede from the Union. Therefore, if I had not believed there
was justifiable cause; if I had thought that Mississippi was acting
without sufficient provocation, or without an existing necessity, I
should still, under my theory of the government, because of my
allegiance to the State of which I am a citizen, have been bound by
her action. I, however, may be permitted to say that I do think she
has justifiable cause and I approve of her act. I conferred with her
people before that act was taken, counseled them then that if the
state of things which they apprehended should exist when the
convention met, they should take the action which they have now
adopted.
I hope none who hear me will confound this expression of mine
with the advocacy of the right of a State to remain in the Union and
to disregard its constitutional obligations by the nullification of the
law. Such is not my theory. Nullification and secession so often
confounded are indeed antagonistic principles. Nullification is a
remedy which it is sought to apply within the Union and against the
agents of the States. It is only to be justified when the agent has
violated his constitutional obligation, and a State, assuming to judge
for itself denies the right of the agent thus to act and appeals to the
other States of the Union for a decision; but when the States
themselves and when the people of the States have so acted as to
convince us that they will not regard our constitutional rights, then,
and then for the first time, arises the doctrine of secession in its
practical application.
A great man who now reposes with his fathers and who has been
often arraigned for a want of fealty to the Union advocated the
doctrine of Nullification because it preserved the Union. It was
because of his deep-seated attachment to the Union, his
determination to find some remedy for existing ills short of the
severance of the ties which bound South Carolina to the other States,
that Mr. Calhoun advocated the doctrine of nullification, which he
proclaimed to be peaceful, to be within the limits of State power, not
to disturb the Union, but only to be a means of bringing the agent
before the tribunal of the States for their judgment.
Secession belongs to a different class of remedies. It is to be
justified upon the basis that the States are sovereign. There was a
time when none denied it. I hope the time may come again when a
better comprehension of the theory of our government and the
inalienable rights of the people of the States will prevent any one
from denying that each State is a sovereign, and thus may reclaim
the grants which it has made to any agent whomsoever.
I therefore say I concur in the action of the people of Mississippi,
believing it to be necessary and proper, and should have been bound
by their action if my belief had been otherwise; and this brings me at
the important point which I wish, on this last occasion, to present to
the Senate. It is by this confounding of nullification and secession
that the name of a great man whose ashes now mingle with his
mother earth, has been invoked to justify coercion against a seceding
state. The phrase “to execute the laws” was an expression which
General Jackson applied to the case of a State refusing to obey the
laws while yet a member of the Union. That is not the case which is
now presented. The laws are to be executed over the United States,
and upon the people of the United States. They have no relation with
any foreign country. It is a perversion of terms, at least it is a great
misapprehension of the case, which cites that expression for
application to a State which has withdrawn from the Union. You may
make war on a foreign State. If it be the purpose of gentlemen they
may make war against a State which has withdrawn from the Union;
but there are no laws of the United States to be executed within the
limits of a Seceded State. A State finding herself in the condition in
which Mississippi has judged she is; in which her safety requires that
she should provide for the maintenance of her rights out of the
Union, surrenders all the benefits, (and they are known to be many)
deprives herself of the advantages, (they are known to be great)
severs all the ties of affection (and they are close and enduring)
which have bound her to the Union; and thus divesting herself of
every benefit, taking upon herself every burden, she claims to be
exempt from any power to execute the laws of the United States
within her limits.
I well remember an occasion when Massachusetts was arraigned
before the Bar of the Senate, and when then the doctrine of coercion
was rife, and to be applied against her because of the rescue of a
fugitive slave in Boston. My opinion then was the same as it is now.
Not in the spirit of egotism, but to show that I am not influenced in
my opinion because the case is my own, I refer to that time and that
occasion as containing the opinion which I then entertained and on
which my present conduct is based. I then said, if Massachusetts,
following her through a stated line of conduct, chooses to take the
last step which separates her from the Union, it is her right to go, and
I will neither vote one dollar nor one man to coerce her back; but will
say to her, “God speed,” in memory of the kind associations which
once existed between her and the other States. It has been a
conviction of pressing necessity, it has been a belief that we are to be
deprived in the Union, of the rights which our fathers bequeathed to
us, which has brought Mississippi into her present decision. She has
heard proclaimed the theory that all men are created free and equal,
and this made the basis of an attack on her social institutions; and
the sacred Declaration of Independence has been invoked to
maintain the position of the equality of the races. That Declaration of
Independence is to be construed by the circumstances and purposes
for which it was made. The communities were declaring their
independence; the people of those communities were asserting that
no man was born—to use the language of Mr. Jefferson—booted and
spurred to ride over the rest of mankind; that men were created
equal—meaning the men of the political community; that there was
no divine right to rule; that no man inherited the right to govern;
that there were no classes by which power and place descended to
families, but that all stations were equally within the grasp of each
member of the body politic. These were the great principles they
announced; these were the purposes for which they made their
declaration; these were the ends to which their enunciation was
directed. They have no reference to the slave; else, how happened it
that among the items of arraignment made against George III. was
that he endeavored to do just what the North has been endeavoring
of late to do—to stir up insurrection among our slaves? Had the
Declaration announced that the negroes were free and equal how was
it the Prince was to be arraigned for stirring up insurrection among
them? And how was this to be enumerated among the high crimes
which caused the colonies to sever their connection with the mother
country? When our constitution was formed, the same idea was
rendered more palpable, for there we find provision made for that
very class of persons as property; they were not put upon the footing
of equality with white men—not even upon that of paupers and
convicts, but so far as representation was concerned, were
discriminated against as a lower caste only to be represented in a
numerical proportion of three-fifths.
Then, Senators, we recur to the compact which binds us together;
we recur to the principles upon which our government was founded;
and when you deny them, and when you deny to us, the right to
withdraw from a government which thus prevented, threatens to be
destructive of our rights, we but tread in the path of our fathers when
we proclaim our independence, and take the hazard. This is done not
in hostility to others, not to injure any section of the country, not
even for our own pecuniary benefit, but from the high and solemn
motive of defending and protecting the rights we inherited, and
which it is our sacred duty to transmit unshorn to our children.
I find in myself, perhaps, a type of the general feeling of my
constituents towards yours. I am sure I feel no hostility to you,
Senators from the North. I am sure there is not one of you, whatever
sharp discussion there may have been between us, to whom I cannot
now say, in the presence of my God, “I wish you well,” and such, I am
sure, is the feeling of the people whom I represent towards those
whom you represent. I therefore feel that I but express their desire
when I say I hope, and they hope for peaceful relations with you,
though we must part. They may be mutually beneficial to us in the