Page 26 of Free to Judge
Another pause. “Then it’s time to finish it. We have to bring in the family. Then we start to burn it down.”
The line clicks dead.
I bury the phone again before leaning back against the concrete wall, breathing like I just ran ten miles in dress shoes.
Kalie didn’t sign up for this but because of her own brand of family loyalty, she’s in it now.
Still, if I get a whiff, if they so much as breathe her name again, I’ll go to war for her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Every morningsince I was forced to meet Declan’s eyes across the parking lot at Amaryllis Events as I read out my apology for my “emotionally charged behavior that was not as a result of Mr. Conian’s direct behavior but as a residual trauma from my own experience with his clients,” my morning run has become more than a training exercise—it’s become my salvation.
Especially since I can’t sleep for thoughts of Declan’s intense stare. It wasn’t fury but something else burning in the depths of his eyes. A part of me wants to sweep the memory under the rug, but the part that was compelled by him all those years ago? Well, that part of me can’t let it go.
So, even if I weren’t already training for three upcoming marathons, I’d be out here relishing every mile, punishing my body for betraying my mind. This time of day, when I’m pushing myself in a way so few can, is the only time when my mind isn’t complicated by that silent stare.
Without breaking my stride, a smug smirk tugs at my lips. Today’s ten miles are brutalizing my newest trainee, Jon. Every agonized, wretched moment of my cousin’s torment tastes far sweeter than any angry girl playlist I could listen to as I hone in on each precise, pounding step and measure every single breath I take.
Sure, there are agents who’d have killed to swap places with Jon—agents I’ve spent months with in the past fine tuning their training to conquer the New York City Marathon. But no. Today, retribution drives my pace. It isn’t practical, but the feverish burn to punish Jon for his behavior in such a small fashion eases some of the humiliation of seeing my face on every gossip rag apologizing.
To him.
After a few hours, I leave my cousin in a sweaty heap before bounding up the stairs to our Craftsman. With a wiggle of my fingers, I call out, “Send someone with a little more stamina to follow me to work.”
His response is a one fingered salute.
Hours later, as I make my way through the back path between Amaryllis Events and my reward for putting in ten miles, I try to untangle my feelings. On one hand, nothing should ever override the sacred bonds of love and loyalty our family holds.
Still, I know I’ll eventually forgive Jon because he’s family. His willingness to even form a loose-knit alliance with Declan has to do with business. I’m not certain why I still need to be protected like I’m the Hope Diamond, but if it eases the tension in the family, I’ll deal.
But my guilt? I have to be honest with myself. It chafes knowing a man I’ve fantasized about is so completely out of bounds. It’s time to admit it’s myself I can’t forgive. How can I trust my instincts when they wanted to lead me to Declan all those years ago and here he is now—someone who is willing to strike out at the heart of those I love?
My judgment sucks, plain and simple.
Barging into The Coffee Shop, not even the lure of a mocha can force the thoughts of Declan from my mind. Maybe it’s because over the weekend when we got together at her new place, Laura said, “He’s doing his job, Kalie. Just like you do. Isn’t that justice?”
“But what if…?” I choked on the rest of my question before it fully formed.
Laura’s no idiot. She laid my fears out brutally. “What if something happens to me? Again?”
“Yes.”
“Then it happens. This time, we’ll confront it. Together.”
“Together. Right,” I spat. My words laced with venom.
Her face froze. “You’re still angry with Jon.”
In that instant, my rage erupted like a volcano. “What made him leave me like that, Laura? He stood there and watched me get arrested before helping Declan—” I swallowed hard, unable to shake the feeling of disappointment and disdain that emanated from him.
Laura exhaled a long-held breath. “I have no idea. But I have to trust Jon. We’re family, Kalie.”
Yet my mind swirls with unspeakable possibilities. What hold do the Byrnes have over Jon? Is it more than just an alliance?
After hurling a curt “Thanks” to Zane—resident hermit, culinary genius, and the man Reggie has the hots for—I snake my way through the alley back toward Amaryllis Events. A swig of the sweetened caffeine calms me as I murmur, “Jon deserves every excruciating mile of his punishment.”
“What punishment is that?” A voice deep and dark, as smooth as the melted chocolate on my tongue, startles me.
