Page 12 of Free to Judge
“I know.” And it’s that knowledge why, when Hudson Investigations approached me, I leaped at the chance to not only utilize latitude to take these bastards down, but to join a team of men and women from varying backgrounds who all have the same mission.
Protect the innocent.
The company founded by Jon’s father and uncle admittedly wants retribution for what happened in the recent past. But they’re ravenous for an opening into the human trafficking ring there are whispers about the Byrnes being involved in.
For decades.
I not only supplied enough information for them to start their search, but I’ve become the weapon Hudson has selectively aimed to dismantle that sinister pipeline by writing contracts my “bosses” are signing in their arrogance without understanding. Teams of agents are now capable of rescuing children snatched from exclusive homes across the country because of the intelligence I’m able to provide.
It might not make up for receiving a cooler filled with the severed head of a woman I deeply cared about, but it’s something.
Jon’s firm hand on my shoulder shatters my introspection. “We’ve got bigger problems than Kalie.”
“What now?”
He maneuvers me through the bustling crowd—a sea of people oblivious to the spectacle of a man sucker-punched by a woman half his size. His eyes dart wildly until he pulls me away, grumbling, “I told you not to get near my family, Conian!”
My lips harden into a sneer—a barely hidden threat beneath a veneer of controlled calm. “Then keep your rabid cousin away from me.”
Jon growls but relents the moment we disappear from the view of the courthouse’s chaotic hallway. He flips his phone around to reveal a text message:
Uncle Keene:
Office.
Now.
I let out a sharp exhale. Yes, I’d anticipated this reaction from the protective father—not my demanding boss. Keene Marshall is nothing if not predictable. The second he realized his perfect princess had endangered herself—whether on purpose or not—I suspected I was going to go a round or two with him. But I refuse to let her emotional outburst derail years of struggle slogging through filth for one resolute goal.
Retribution for Tanya.
With that purpose still burning in my veins, I follow Jon out after a brief meeting with the court officers who want to take my statement. They seemed terrified that I’d unleash holy hell, sending some of my “family” in their direction. What they don’t realize is I have more respect for them than they could possibly imagine. After giving Jon a signal to meet me at Hudson, I step out of the courthouse before subduing my groan at the number of paparazzi on the steps.
“Mr. Conian!”
“Do you believe you’ll be able to get all the Tiberis exonerated?”
“What happened in the rotunda?”
“Do you plan on pressing charges?”
Answering each query from the media with a curt, “No comment,” I slip into the back of an armor-plated limousine waiting at the courthouse’s base. In the vehicle’s shadowed confines, I exhale sharply after giving the driver precise directions.
So far, everything is unfolding exactly as planned.
Except for a thorn on the perfect rose that is Kalie Marshall.
Groaning, I massage my jaw, already hearing the thunderous disapproval of her father. I hope the man is brief—I have work to do.
And it wasn’t my fault the fight ignited.
With this thought, I slump back into the seat. Keene is a reasonable man. He’ll understand.
I hope.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Stridinginto Hudson Investigations half an hour later, I’m immediately swept underground into a secure space that only individuals with the highest credentials can access. I’m temporarily transported back to the early days of working for the agency before I became entangled with the treacherous Byrnes family.
