Page 107 of Free to Judge
I jerk my wrist away and glance around. “Are you insane?”
“It’s over, firebrand. That’s why I came tonight,” he explains.
My curiosity gets the better of me. “What do you mean, ‘it’s over’?”
He steps closer, his voice dropping to a whisper before he shares, “The Feds took down the Tiberis. They’re in the process of rounding up the remaining Byrnes.”
I can’t hide the relief that flows through my soul, knowing he’ll be safe. Still, I step back. My voice is cool when I say, “Congratulations. Job well done.”
His brows crease into aV. “Kalie, I came back to your house the moment I could the night you last FaceTimed me.”
My heart thunders in my chest when I hear him refer to our night together as that. I affect a diffident expression. “I wasn’t there.”
“I know. I know you left. That was probably for the best. It freed me up to focus on doing my job.”
“Did it?”I fell in love with this sanctimonious ass?The thought flits through my brain. Before I do something stupid like smack him in the face, I snatch up a glass of champagne and sip it.
Declan’s earnest, I’ll give him that. He cups my cheek. “I meant what I said that night, Kalie.”
“Which part?”
“The part where I told you I’d come back for you.” His voice rings with sincerity.
My mouth falls open.Is he really this clueless? The problem wasn’t his job or the amount of time it took him away from me, but that he broke my trust. I’m about to blast him when he steps forward and stares down into my eyes. “I kept texting you because I wanted you to know I was thinking of you. I didn’t beg you to come home the way I wanted to because I didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire.”
My eyes close. It would be easy, too easy, to fall back into his waiting arms. I step back again.
He follows.
Then I give him the harsh truth. “It wasn’t the danger that drove me away, Declan. You broke me. That day, you decided my heart wasn’t worth caring for.”
His face pales. “No. I mean, it was. I mean, I didn’t intend…”
“Whether or not you intended to, that’s what you did. Frankly, your argument sucks. You’re predicating your whole case on two main arguments—the first is that I’d be waiting when you camecrawling back. The second being I’d be willing to forgive you for your mighty list of transgressions since it was for the greater good. Right?”
“I was hoping the news would…”
“What? Make me so happy for you that it would make me want to talk with you?” I scoff. “Go back to law school, counselor. I think you’ve spent too long outside of a courtroom.”
Spinning, I’m about to make my grand exit when his hand clasps my wrist. I twist around and glare at him. My frustration boils over. “What, Declan?”
“Is there really no hope for us, firebrand?” The rasp of his voice strikes a deep chord inside of me.
“I deserve more than to be ambushed, Declan. I deserve to be wooed all over again. I expect you to earn back my trust. Then I’ll decide what happens next.”
With that, I surge blindly into the crowd in an attempt to find Peter or my parents.
A few minutes later, I wish wholeheartedly I’d stayed and argued with Declan when another man approaches. Despite the fact that he’s well-dressed and has a clean shave. His eyes are hard and cold when he slams against my chest.
“Apologies,” he says smoothly. “Your husband sent us to bring you to him. Urgent matter.”
I stiffen, automatically retreating. “I don’t have a husband.”
The stranger smiles. “My mistake.”
Another man appears at my back. I barely notice until it’s too late. Something cold presses in between the boning of my dress. Not a hand.
A knife.
