Текст книги "Kian"
Автор книги: Tijan
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“No, Erica. Don’t say a word. You don’t want to step into that. Trust me.”
“Not Jake and Tara. Susan and Tara,” she clarified. “Susan talks so much crap about Tara’s relationship with Jake. If Tara knew—”
I took her shoulders and turned her in the other direction. “That wouldn’t end well either. Susan can spin it, say she was distraught as a friend, et cetera, and Tara will forgive her.” I gritted my teeth.
As much as I had been jealous of Tara seven months ago, I couldn’t find any rumors where she was mean. Everyone had tended to say the same thing. She was beautiful and nice. It would make me gag, so I’d stopped asking.
“I know,” she clipped out, sounding distressed. “But…” Her hand abruptly fell back to her side. “I just can’t stand Susan. She already thinks she’s above everyone. With this promotion, she’ll think she’s on a totally different level.”
Everyone meant Erica, Wanker, and me.
Erica’s features tightened in frustration. “Susan is not better than us. Tara is not better than us. And Jake’s an asshole so he’s really not better than us.” She added, her lips pressed tight, “Even if he is kinda dreamy to look at.”
I mused, “I doubt Wanker would enjoy hearing that.”
She flushed and rolled her eyes. “Not funny, Jo. You’re”—her hand gestured up and down at me—“you. You don’t even notice that half the guys in here are checking you out, and I know that’s why Susan hates you, but…” She stopped, and her shoulders drooped.
I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” I murmured. “I can tell you one thing. Susan’s not anywhere as tough as you are. If I had to back someone in a fight—whether it were verbal, physical, or academic—I’d back you any day.”
“Really?”
“You’re tough as nails. If Susan thinks she’s on a higher level than us”—I snorted—“let her think that. You’ll be more successful than her within five years. I know it.”
One side of her mouth lifted up as the other remained down. She patted my hand on her shoulder. “Thanks, Jo.”
I shrugged. “Besides, Susan’s a bitch, and no one really likes her. We all know that.”
Erica started laughing.
I needed a drink. The restlessness was stirring inside me again. My past was a headache knocking at my head, trying to get back in. I wouldn’t let it. No way, no how. Time to head for the bar. Speaking of drinks, I spied Wanker. He was behind us, bobbing back and forth to the music, with a drink in his hand.
I pointed to it. “Hey, where did you get that?”
He leaned closer to us, still doing the shimmy shoo. “What?”
Erica yelled for me, “Where did you get your drink?”
He held it up with a bright smile plastered on his face. “You want one?”
“Yeah.”
“What?” Another yell from him.
I stood up on my tiptoes and yelled in his ear, “Yes, please!”
“Oh, okay!” he shouted before turning for the bar.
He hadn’t gone two steps before I heard from behind me, “Here. You can have mine.”
And I froze.
Kian?
But no.
It was Jake. Friendly Jake. Non-killer Jake. Not someone-who-had-gone-to-prison-for-two-years-because-of-me Jake. My body began to warm again from its frozen state. This was the Jake who asked me on a date, to get back at his ex-girlfriend. That Jake.
“You.” I scowled at him.
He raked his fingers through his locks, leaving little lines, and the side of his mouth lifted up into a self-conscious grin. “Hey.” His eyes were trailing me up and down.
“Really?” I asked, my eyebrows arching high.
He shrugged, giving me a small smile. “You look good. I’ve never stopped thinking that.”
I was two seconds away from delivering some scathing retort, when he looked beyond my shoulder. “Erica, how’s it going?”
“Actually…” Erica said, raising her voice as she scooted in. One of her shoulders touched his chest, and the other touched the top of my arm. She was acting as a barrier between us.
Jake flashed her a grin and shifted backward. She moved so she was facing him completely.
An exaggerated smile was on her face. “It’s great, you know. Got passed up for a job today. Found out about it from my friend, who, you know, you asked for a date to Susan’s party. Yeah. Great. Life’s wonderful. How are you doing? It’s been a while since I last saw you. Was it early December?”
He tensed, grimacing.
Erica clapped a hand on his shoulder and beamed up. “Remember, Jake? You and Jo were finishing up a paper that was due. She couldn’t get ahold of you to help. She didn’t want to bother you, because she worried you’d be annoyed with her so I was trying to help instead. We went to a private study room in the library, the same one you and Jo used to study in all the time and there you were, you and Tara were making out. Yeah.”
His grin faltered.
She snapped her fingers in the air, like she was just remembering. “It’s all coming back to me now.”
He scooted back another half step before someone bumped into him from behind. The drink he had extended for me was pulled back and raised above his chest. I didn’t know if he was holding it there as a shield from Erica or as a weapon to pour on her.
His shoulders dropped then. “That’s all over and done with,” he said, glancing at me.
Erica was in guard-dog mode. I loved my roommate. My trust was renewed. I’d been stupid to let my old issues sneak up on me.
“Come on, Erica. What is this?” he asked.
Her voice sharpened. “What are you doing here, Jake?”
He spoke to her, but he was watching me, “I wanted to see Jo—”
“Let me stop you right now,” she cut him off. “No explanation is needed because I know what you’re doing. And I’m going to say one thing to you. Don’t hurt my friend again.”
My grin slipped away. I’d been enjoying watching her do her thing, but she was right. I had been hurt. It took me months before I got Jake out of my system. He was the first guy that I’d let in after…
Remembering again, I found myself looking up. I didn’t want to, but I knew it was there. I knew he was there, and yes, there he was.
The news was on. There were eight different television screens all around the bar, probably more, and most of them had sports or music videos on, but a few were turned to the news.
“Jordan! What happened that night?”
“Miss Emory, are you in love with him? How do you feel about Kian Maston? Were you two having a sexual relationship before he killed your father for you?”
Someone laughed. “Are you having one now?”
They all laughed at that one.
So many reporters. So many cameras. They were always in the way—anytime I’d had to go to school, had to go to work, or had to go home even. I had known they were waiting for me, hoping I would mess up and yell at them. Head down, eyes forward, arm inside my jacket at all times—those were the only instructions the police had given to me. They hadn’t been worried about my safety, not when the nation had fallen in love with Kian and blamed me.
“Jo.”
“Jordan! Are you thankful to Kian Maston for saving your life?”
“Jo.” A hand touched my shoulder. A hand waved in front of my face.
I jerked back to the present day. Both Jake and Erica were frowning at me.
Erica pulled her hand away from me. “Where did you go just now?”
“What?” I glanced up.
It was like Kian was staring right at me, watching me again, like he had watched me through my bedroom window that day.
I grabbed Jake’s drink and gulped half of it down.
“Whoa. Hey…okay.”
It burned my throat. Good, the memories couldn’t come back. I’d burn them away with booze, or I’d try. “Can I get another one?”
“Uh, that was straight whiskey.”
I handed him the cup and said hoarsely, “Yeah. Thank you.”
“Wha—okay. Be right back.”
As he went to the bar, Erica leaned close to peer into my eyes. “You in there?” She held up a finger and asked, “Can you follow this?” Her finger went from side to side.
I rolled my eyes. “He offered me his drink in the first place.”
“Yeah, but we both know that was a lame line to make a dramatic entrance. It’s Jake. He’s trying to woo you again.”
“And it won’t work.” I pulled her in for a hug. “And want to know why?”
“Rrhy?” Her voice was muffled against my shirt.
“Because you’re the best friend I could have. Even if I slip and forget how he hurt me before, you’re not going to let him do it again, Miss I’m Going to Literally Stand Between My Friend and the Big, Bad Dick.”
She frowned. “I did not…did I?”
“You did. And I’m not an idiot. He wanted to use me to get back at Tara.” I gestured to where Susan’s group was standing. They needed to be farther away.
“Tara is evil.” Erica snorted.
“No, Susan is evil. Tara’s nice.”
As her features tightened, I instantly regretted my words. Well, fuck. I touched her arm. We were there because of Susan, not me. She shrugged off my hand and then nodded behind me. “Dream Boat is coming back.” Her mouth turned down, and she glanced around. “Where’s Wanker?”
We both scanned the room. Erica covered her mouth and started laughing a second later. She pointed to the bar where Wanker was in line. He was standing behind a group of people who appeared to be in line, but they weren’t. They were just standing there and talking to each other, but he was reading the closed-captioning on a news channel. As a person from the group left, Wanker moved aside and then resumed his place behind them.
They never left.
And he never moved up in the nonexistent line.
“We have to get him. He has no idea.”
Jake arrived at that moment, holding one of the cups out to me. “Here you go, and I remember our days of drinking. You’re not a whiskey girl, so I ordered a rum and diet for you. I hope that’s all right.”
It was more than all right. I could smell the rum as I took the cup from his hand. It was plenty strong and just what I needed, and because he got it for me, I’d give him a pass for the night. Just this once, though. “Thanks. This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, you know.”
He hid a grin. “Got it. I know.”
Giving him a small salute, I started to drink the whole thing, but Erica grabbed my arm and began pulling me in Wanker’s direction.
“Hey.”
She kept tugging. “Let’s grab him and find somewhere to sit. If we’re going to be here, I want to be able to relax. I can’t do that if we’re standing in the middle of a drunk herd.”
I leaned closer, so Jake wouldn’t overhear. “When are you going to let Susan have it?”
Erica shot me a look. “That’s currently being processed in my head. I’m going to need more alcohol to help figure everything out before I do anything.” She glanced over her shoulder to Jake. “I take it that you’re going to let him sit with us?”
I shrugged and lifted my drink up. “He got me this, after all.”
She let out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Okay. You’re kind of a sucker, you know?”
I knew, but we walked underneath a television screen at that moment, going into a back section of the bar. That night, I didn’t care about being a sucker. I was going to need all the distractions I could use to keep Kian out of my head, and all my old baggage with him.
“There’s a spot.” Jake came around us and pointed to an empty table.
Erica wrinkled her nose and scratched her forehead. She shrugged. “Wanker will find us eventually. I’ll keep a lookout for him.” She waved her hand in front of us. “March on, dude. Lead the way.”
And he did.
Jake led the way, even moving to hold his arm backward in an effort to shield me from a few drunks. Seven months ago, that would’ve sent the butterflies buzzing in me. Not now. All I could feel was the anchor in my stomach. When we got to the table, I glanced down and smack dab in the middle of it, Kian was looking right up at me. A television screen was inside the glass.
A breath hitched in my throat. It was a close-up of him, and I’d forgotten how powerful his eyes were.
“Wanker!” Erica shot forward, waving her arm in the air.
Kian’s mug shot was staring at me on the left side of the screen. His eyes were stormy, hostile even, and he was scowling at the camera. He looked furious for being there, and I could understand it. Everyone could understand it. That was why he was loved.
He saved me.
My foster father had put a knife to my throat. He would’ve killed me, but Kian saved me. He was then arrested and charged. The nation was enraged.
A bottle was set down next to me, bumping me back to the present day. I looked up, a little dazed, but all attention was on Wanker. He’d brought three bottles of wine with him. A server trailed behind with empty glasses. Taking the empty seat beside Erica, he scooted his stool a little closer to her.
“Wine?” Erica’s eyebrow arched high. “Wine?”
One of the bottles was uncorked. Erica motioned for the server to do the rest, but I wasn’t waiting. I grabbed the first bottle and took a long drag, ignoring the empty glass Wanker offered me.
“Oh. Whoa, Jo!” The eyebrow lowered, and a smile lifted my roommate’s cheeks. “Okay. Well, right on. It’s that kind of night, huh?”
Jake laughed.
Wanker nudged his glasses back up his nose. “That was for Erica.”
“Who cares?” She grabbed one of the other bottles. “I’ll take this one.” After putting the third one in front of Wanker, she narrowed her eyes at Jake. “Where’s your drink?”
He pressed his lips together and tilted his head to the side. Jake was giving her the come-on-really look. Erica just smiled back at him. Neither looked away for a second. Wanker glanced between the two, his finger shoving his glasses up to his forehead now, before he cleared his throat and poured some of his wine into a glass.
“So, it’s like that, huh?” Jake asked softly.
Erica lifted up a shoulder. Her hand was gripped tightly around her wine bottle, and she leaned forward over the table. “Just saying. You came here with the enemy.”
“Erica,”—he gave her a disappointed look—“that was an excuse, okay? Tara and I broke up, and you already gave me the riot act.”
“That wasn’t a riot act. That was the disclaimer for the riot act. No, no, Jake dear, I’m just warming up.”
He let out a sigh, glancing over his shoulder. “I can leave, if I’m upsetting you that much.”
That shut her up. Her mouth flattened, and she sent me a look. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t processing a lot that night, so I held up a hand and waved it around. He could do what he wanted. Her eyebrows dropped, all in one line, and she gave me an incredulous look. Yes, I was chickening out. I did not want to make any decisions about Jake then and there. My energy was being used by avoiding a certain other face, one that was literally smack dab in the middle of our table.
There was a standoff between Jake and Erica, but Wanker decided. He poured some of his wine into one of the glasses before nudging it to Jake.
Dipping his head low, he pointed to it. “There you go. It’s a white wine, but it has some sweetness too.” He waited until Jake took a sip and then nodded enthusiastically. “Right? Can you taste the sweetness?”
As if sensing I didn’t want to talk, Erica turned her attention to Wanker, and soon, he was explaining what a tannin was to Jake.
With the attention not on me or about me, I glanced down at the table. Kian’s face was still there. The news had a video looped in, showing when he was released. He was shown leaving the prison administration office and hurrying into a waiting vehicle. I recognized the others with him—his mom, sister, and two of his lawyers.
That was…lovely.
During the trial, Sonya, his mother, and Felicia, his sister, were the two who had always sat in the courtroom. I hadn’t gone every day. I didn’t remember seeing his father there, but he must’ve been.
As dark as Kian was, his mother was the opposite. She had beautiful, sleek almost-white hair, but it wasn’t white from her older age. She was only in her late forties. That was just the natural color of her hair. It was shiny and fell to her shoulders, and that was where the differences ended between herself and Felicia. While Felicia had the same dark hair as Kian, she had the same graceful and petite body frame as her mother.
I remembered hearing that Felicia used to ride horses for shows, and I could imagine it—with the white pants, gloves, sophisticated boots, and a riding helmet with the strap secured under her chin. She gave off a prestigious Hamptons air.
I never spoke to them. They never spoke to me. They never even looked my way. There I had been, the girl their son/brother had saved and the reason he was going to prison.
Seeing them now at his side, my insides were a mess. The storm that I had been trying to ignore was threatening to spill to the surface again. I was going to lose it. Even now, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I felt I was being watched, just like back then.
“Jo.” Erica’s voice broke through, and she took the bottle of wine from my hands.
No, make that an emptied bottle of wine. I’d drunk that whole thing while glaring down at Kian’s press release.
“What?” I asked her.
She held the bottle out to the waiting server and asked me, “Do you want another bottle…or maybe not?”
Wanker tugged at his shirt collar. “I think we should have champagne next.”
Erica’s eyes lit up, and like that, I was off the hook.
She clapped her hands together. “Champagne! Yes, please.” She turned to the server. “Two bottles. I’ll pay with my cr—”
“You will not.” Wanker’s hand jerked out, but it wasn’t steady.
He was reaching for the credit card Erica was handing to the server. Instead of hitting it down to the table, he had some extra oomph, and it fell to the floor instead. The redness from his face and neck spread to his hands now.
He winced. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
Erica shot him a confused look before hopping off her stool to grab her card.
When she straightened back up, Wanker said, “Put it all on my tab.” When the server left, he said to Erica, “I gave them my card already. This is your night.”
“My night?” She gestured to me. “We’re all drowning our sorrows tonight.”
The two started a debate about if we were celebrating or not that night, when Jake leaned closer. “Hey, uh…are you okay? You don’t seem like your normal self.”
I almost started laughing. He didn’t know my normal self. No one did.
As Jake was waiting for my answer, I couldn’t look away from the most recent image of Kian on the screen. His dark hair had been cut down, almost as a crew cut. He seemed even leaner and fitter than what he had been before going in. Everything about him emanated power. He looked strong. He was always athletic, but this was more. I saw it in his eyes. They could always see through me. I never noticed before it had happened, but every time he’d looked at me in the courtroom, it was the same thing. He knew me. Somehow, he could see inside of me. I felt it again, but there was an edge to him. He was like a feral animal that had been leashed.
As Jake’s dark eyes stared back at me, I felt him talking to me. I felt him saying to me that they didn’t know the only me that mattered—the broken me. They didn’t know the me that only he seemed to know.
“Yeah,” I forced out. “I’m fine. Just had a bad exam, that’s all.”
Kian’s face was everywhere so I went back into hiding. Erica invited me to get sushi with her and Wanker the next night, but I stayed home. If I didn’t go out, I couldn’t see his face plastered on magazines and newspapers. He was on my email site, so I used my phone to check emails. I wouldn’t have to see the ads or news then. It was dumb and maybe a little immature, but I still wanted to hide.
The media speculation about where I had gone would spark up again. It was only a matter of time. And my small sanctuary lasted until Sunday morning when that phone rang. It wasn’t my cell phone. It wasn’t the landline that Erica had insisted we get. It wasn’t her cell phone. There was only one other phone in the apartment, and only I knew who was on the other line.
I didn’t say anything when I accepted the call. I didn’t need to. The other person said, “Mel’s Diner. One hour.” They hung up, and the hope I’d had of remaining hidden was gone.
That phone had been given to me by a federal agent who was assigned to me. The case drew enough national attention the FBI were called in, and when everything was done, he helped me hide and start a new life.
When I got to the diner, he was in the back booth, reading a newspaper. Kian’s face was plastered on the front, staring at me as I made that trek past the few other diners. Our booth was set far apart from the others and as I slid into my side, he folded the newspaper down. Kian’s face was on the outside, staring up at me.
I sighed. I’d never get away from him.
“Long weekend?”
I shot him a look. “Not funny, Snark.”
He laughed, but there was no smile or grin on his face. His entire face remained stone-like.
I wasn’t joking when I called him Snark. That was his last name. He had introduced himself to me three years ago as Agent Snark. I’d asked one time if it was a nickname.
He’d looked at me, deadpan, and responded, “Why would I joke about my name?”
That was the last of that conversation, and he’d been Snark ever since.
He took off his reading glasses now and inspected my face, taking his time with his perusal. He finally said, “You look different.”
“You told me to look different.”
“You lost weight?”
“I gained twenty pounds.”
I was inspecting him, too, but he looked the same—graying brown hair and eyes that still looked dead. I knew they were blue, but the flat look he had in them outweighed any color they might’ve had. He just had dead eyes to me. His skin was wrinkled, showing signs of aging. He kept himself trim, like he had back then, but I saw the wedding ring was gone from his hand. I bit the inside of my lip. There was no way I could ask him what had happened, if he’d divorced or if he was a widow. Snark did not share information—ever.
He asked now, “You’re healthy?”
“I didn’t go to the gym before. I do now.”
“Good. That’s a new habit then.”
“I also drink coffee now.” I used to drink tea before.
“That’s good, too.” He asked, “Boyfriend?”
“How’s that your business?”
He didn’t answer me. I should’ve known he wouldn’t, so I reached for a napkin and started to shred it piece by piece, but he took it from me. He slid it to the side, and I remembered—new habits. That was an old one.
I shook my head. “No boyfriend.”
“Not even that Jake guy?”
“How did you…” He was FBI. “Have you been watching me the whole time?”
“Since he was released, yes.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Tell me about this Jake guy. What’s he like?”
“Why?”
“Because he wants to see you.”
That halted everything. I had guessed, but hearing it made the floor open up beneath me. “Are you serious?”
“As a bullet to my forehead.” His eyes narrowed, still studying me. “Now, tell me about this Jake guy.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s new. Your other friends are not. Erica. That kid nicknamed Wanker, and by the way, I’d like to know how he got that nickname.”
“For my file?”
“No.” He grinned. “For my own enjoyment, but that’s not important right now. Start reporting. Get on with it.”
“No.” My friends weren’t new. “I moved in with Erica this year. I was in the dorms my first two years, and my roommates were assigned. Jake’s not new either, and I’m not spending time with him anymore.”
“You spoke to him yesterday and again last evening.”
“Wha—” My head was swimming. “Jake hung out with us last night. That’s it, and it won’t be a recurring thing. I dated him briefly in December. It ended when he decided to go back to his previous girlfriend. I don’t understand why any of this is important. Am I in danger? Does Kian want revenge on me or…” Nothing was making sense. “What is going on?”
“The judge was dirty.”
“What?”
“The judge was dirty. That’s why your boy was released. His lawyers broke the case, but as they know, that means their client can be retried.”
“But double jeopardy? Isn’t that what it is?”
“Not if there wasn’t a fair trial. And a dirty judge—that’s not a fair trial. The District Attorney wants to put him back in. They want him to serve the rest of his eight years, and we think Kian’s team is going to use anything they can to throw that possibility out the window.”
“But—”
“You.”
“Me?” What did that mean? What was he talking about? “Me what?”
“If and when Kian is taken back to trial, we think his legal team is going to go after you.”
My mouth went dry. I sat still in that booth, feeling my heart slow. I was being led down a path, and I didn’t like where he was taking me. “What are you saying, Snark?” My voice had grown hoarse.
“They’re going to blame everything on you.”