Page 27 of Free to Judge
Spinning around to face him, a dangerous feeling rises deep inside. Sheer indignation flows through me at how criminally good he looks. How can a man with so few morals saunter about society with no warning sign flashing “Danger”? And damn, I hate to admit, even if the man represents every newsworthy felon, Declan is no slouch in the looks department.
With every step I take in his direction, I check out his windswept black hair, towering six-foot-two frame, and the glint on his thousand-dollar wingtips before drawling, “Came to do your dirty work yourself? Consider me impressed.”
Before he can retort verbally, or I can insult him further, I’m slammed hard enough against the nearest wall to have my back scrape against the brick. Declan’s predatory hand constricts around my throat, trapping me in a steel cage of his body. In the next heartbeat, a screeching car roars past. Somehow. I twist my head, desperate to catch a glimpse of its plates.
There are none.
When I rotate my head in his direction to demand answers, I meet a pair of searing brown eyes locked onto mine. His voice, a low rumble barely audible over my frantic heart, carries a furious warning. “I thought you were protected by guards whenever you stepped out, Kalie?”
“I just ran out for coffee,” I retort, voice strained due to the increasing tension of the hand at my throat.
He mutters something under his breath. I don’t catch much but I hear the word “cousin” distinctly. I snap, “I’ll deal with my own cousin. Thank you not so much.”
He leans forward, his hand releasing. Now, he uses his forearm to crush against my windpipe, causing me to struggle for air for a split second. “Does any of this strike you as a joke? A car almost ran you down. You have bodyguards for a reason. Your. Life. Is. In. Danger.”
Despite the narrow cut of my skirt, I manage to lift my leg high enough to get leverage so I can slam my heel against his instep. He staggers backward, shocked. Wrenching free of his vice-like grip, I clutch my throat as I rasp, “My life is endangered because of you.”
He bellows, “No! It’s because of you! Don’t you get the Byrnes are tracking your every move?”
I’ve always prided myself on my razor-sharp mind, my relentless athleticism, and my unyielding determination. Never before had I felt such consuming passion and fury, but now it’s all that fuels me. “Then call your damn clients off!”
He seizes my shoulders and drags me up against his body. I’m momentarily stunned by the fierce thump of his heart against my ear, and then his hoarse whisper shatters the silence. “It isn’t that simple, firebrand. God, I wish it were.”
He releases me, but not before ordering, “Run. Now. Back to your office. I’ll have someone tailing you until you get there.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I tear out of the alley, not daring to look back.
But what does it mean when, an hour later, Jon shows up at my door, offering a fresh mocha with a troubled expression? Gone is the infuriating arrogance I once adored. Instead, his presence reignites the lingering panic from the alley, even as my heart solidifies my bitter resolve. I stand behind my desk and cross my arms, trying to leash the storm raging within.
“A mocha? Really? Did Conian pick up the tab too?” I spit, venom dripping from every syllable.
“Thought you’d like it,” he replies, his tone annoyingly calm. “And I paid for it.”
“Wow,” I snap back, eyes rolling in disbelief. “Look at you, Mr. Benevolence. Seems to me you’re just covering all your damned bases lately.”
“Even the ones you refuse to admit threaten you?” His voice is a low, controlled counterpoint to my seething rage. “Kalie, what the hell happened?”
“What happened? Your pal tried to choke me, and I nearly got flattened by a car.”
His eyes narrow as he wrestles with the gravity of what he hears. “Choke you?” he echoes, as if to verify the truth in my words. Not that I’ve lied to him. Ever.
“Yeah, Jon. After a car almost ran me down.”
His nonchalant facade crumbles. “You’re sure?”
“No. I’m lying. If you doubt me, ask your new bestie. As much as I hate to admit it, Conian saved me.”
Dropping the pretense, his voice vibrates with raw emotion. “You’re not playing around. You’re serious?”
“Deadly.” I savor the word, letting its weight land like a crushing blow. “Didn’t expect your new friend to become my knight in tarnished armor.”
“That’s not—Kalie, he’s not what you think.”
“Oh, spare me! Then what is he? A criminal misfit toy? Was he left behind instead of being delivered at Christmas because he’s a mob lawyer with a heart of gold?”
“Just listen for once!” Jon snaps, his eyes blazing with urgency. He slams my door behind him, trapping the two of us together.
My anger temporarily abates as I react to his panic versus my own. He snarls, “We’re in this together now. Me and you.”
