Page 22 of Free to Judge
Not an ounce of reaction crosses Kalie’s exquisite features. Then, shockingly, she tosses her head back and laughs—a low, incredulous sound that echoes in the charged air. When her laughter dwindles to choked chuckles, she jerks her thumb in her godfather’s direction. “You hearing this, Uncle Jared? I’m being thrown under the proverbial bus and I’m being asked to meet them halfway.”
“Kalie, trust us,” Caleb begins.
“Trust you? Right.” Her laugh is full of bitterness, not the melodic sound I pictured it being.
“Mr. Conian approached your cousin,” he nods at Jon, who feigns a neutral expression. “With information.”
“About?”
“That, I can’t share.”
Her frustration practically seeps through her pores. Instead, she tries a different tactic. “When?”
“Today, at the courthouse. Before your little altercation. That’s why Mr. Conian allowed you to be booked, even though he had no intent of pressing charges.”
Dalton jumps into the fray. “I know it was said at the station, but I want to hear you say it. He dropped them?”
I murmur, “Before she ever left the station.” There’s no trace that Katherine Laura Marshall was brought in for booking. Rachel took care of that for us.
Her resolve falters. Her gaze flicks toward her cousin. “Jon? Is this the truth?”
“Yes.” He’s able to meet her gaze without flinching because that’s the truth. I was meeting with him to give him intel on the pipeline. I had no idea until later how much more Cal had uncovered—or how cold and calculated the Byrnes’ moves really were.
Keene interjects sharply, “Kalie, I’m not comfortable with any of this. This is the kind of shit that gets you noticed in the wrong circles.”
“Especially right now,” Jon tacks on for good measure.
As I glimpse at the faces around the room, even her mother is wavering in her anger. “Kalie, sweetheart. Maybe listen to your father.”
“Mama!” she shouts.
“Please.”
She fumes but doesn’t say another word. Keene continues, “For the time being, if you step out of your home or office, you’re going to have a shadow.”
She scoffs with icy disdain. “I can protect myself.”
Caleb’s voice drops, heavy with resignation. “We’re being open and honest with you, Kalie. I didn’t give those same choices to Laura. Don’t make us regret it.”
Her fingers lace together, her only outward sign of nervousness as Jon’s twin is mentioned.
Caleb speaks even softer, “Give us the opportunity to do our jobs, Kalie.”
Once more, she repeats with quiet fury, “You all trained me to fend for myself.”
Stubborn woman.“Not if you’re blindsided by the real threat.”
That’s when Jon takes matters into his own hands and snarls, “If you had any kind of self-control, we wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place.”
In an instant, she lunges—impossibly fast, fury personified—vaulting atop the table and storming across it like an unleashed tempest. Her eyes blaze a surreal, iridescent blue as they lock onto her cousin. My jaw falls open at how fast the firebrandcan move. I see her poise for attack when my camera view goes blurry. Keene hauls her off the table, shouting, “Enough, Kalie!”
Shoving him away, she spins and fires at him, “What the hell was that for?”
“You’d think punching one person today didn’t cause enough problems?”
A sneer curls her plump lip. “Then stop your damn family from insulting people if you know what’s good for them.”
“They’re your family too, Kalie,” her father points out logically.
