Incumbent(66)

“You’re so beautiful when you come. Give me another one, Lucy.” His lips closed on my right breast, and his teeth gently grazed my nipple while his fingers pinched my left one.

“I want you to come with me. I need you to,” I said, panting as I moved faster while he held me close.

My fingers threaded through his hair and when I gave a gentle tug, his pace increased. I tightened around him, and he gritted out, “Now, Lucy.”

His deep voice sent me spiraling as I came on him and him in me. With our bodies still connected, twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, I placed my head on his shoulder, and we held each other tighter than we ever had.

“I love you, Drake.”

? ? ?

The sound of my phone ringing woke me. I looked at the screen, but it was from an unknown caller. I was hoping last night was a nightmare, but it was real.

The sun was just rising, so I gingerly slipped out of bed so I wouldn’t wake Drake, but that didn’t work. He sat up and stretched, his flexed muscles making my mouth water.

“I’m just going to get the paper,” I told him. “I’ll bring it back and we can read it in bed. I might even give you the crossword.” I slid on his dress shirt from the night before.

When I opened the front door, I was blinded by what felt like a thousand flashbulbs going off. Surprised and disoriented, I brought my hand up, trying to shield my eyes. Camera shutters clicked in rapid succession, the sound quickly drowned out by loud voices as I was rushed by people thrusting microphones and recording devices in my face, shouting questions at me.

“Ms. Washburn, are the rumors true?”

“Lucy, is Senator Prescott inside?”

“Does the pro-life senator know?”

“Is he going to drop out of the race?”

“What does he think of your past? Is he going to leave you?”

This reporter held up the front page of the newspaper, folded in half. My picture was above the fold with the headline, MYSTERY WOMAN COULD BE U.S. SENATOR’S DEMISE.

That last question pierced my heart like a bullet, and my mouth dropped open as I stared at the picture of me. Out of nowhere, a hand was on my arm, pulling me back inside.

“Ms. Washburn has no comment!”

“But, Senator—”

Drake slammed the door, and I crumpled to the floor. He sat next to me on my carpet and pulled me onto his lap, letting me cry into his chest.

“Why? I didn’t want to do it.” My breath hitched, and I could hardly breathe.

“I’m so sorry,” Drake said, sounding as broken as I felt.

“What am I going to do?” I wailed. “My picture is in the paper. Everyone is going to know. It will never stop.”

“Yes, it will. I’ll make sure of it.” Drake stood and picked me up in his arms to take me to the couch.

His phone rang, and his voice was sharp as he answered.

“Ben. Talk to me, what do you know?” Silence.

“Yes, they’re here swarming her apartment. I won’t be leaving. Once they leave, I’ll take her somewhere safe.”

Hearing only one side of the conversation had my imagination running wild.

“Which site? I see.” Drake rubbed his forehead. “Start damage control. I don’t care what you need to do, just shut the shit down.”

His phone landed with a thud on the coffee table.

“Did you say site? Like in website?” I wiped my tears with the sleeve of his dress shirt. “I want to see it.”

“Ben’s going to try and get it taken down.”

“I need to see it.” I shifted off his lap and grabbed my laptop. Handing it to Drake, I said, “Show me.”

He slid on his glasses and after a few keystrokes, a photo of me appeared on the screen. It was taken at the baseball game; I was wearing my Nationals baseball cap and was looking up at Drake. Granted, it was just my profile, but you could tell it was me. Above the picture in large capital letters was the word SCANDAL.

Oh my God. Frantic, I couldn’t scan the words quickly enough.



Republican incumbent senator and future presidential hopeful’s girlfriend is a fraud. The National Reveal has discovered schoolteacher Lucy Washburn isn’t as innocent as she appears.



Sources have revealed that Lucy Washburn is an alias and her real name is still unknown. What we do know is Ms. Washburn had an abortion. The question remains if pro-life senator Drake Prescott was the child’s father, or if it was her longtime college friend, Mason McDermott.



Ms. Washburn is a US history teacher at Northern Ridge High School, a private school that boasts about the quality of their staff and the pride they have in their students. The school’s motto is “Shaping the minds of the future through excellence, ideals, and values.” It makes this reporter wonder exactly what values Ms. Washburn is teaching your children.



A colleague who chose to remain anonymous told the National Reveal that Lucy Washburn is a loner, and she had always thought Ms. Washburn was hiding something. She wonders what other skeletons are in her closet, and so does this reporter.



Our staff attempted to contact Ms. Washburn and the administration of Northern Ridge High School, but they were unavailable for comment.





Furious, I slammed the top of the laptop closed, doing my best to hold back my tears. “It’s over. Everything I worked for, my anonymity, it’s all done.”