Текст книги "Kian"

Автор книги: Tijan

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

As he spoke, I felt his heart racing like mine.

He moved his mouth, so he was whispering right into my ear, his lips grazing my ear, “Change your mind. Please change your mind, Jo. I’m showing all my cards here. I have no shame. We’re connected, no matter how much distance or fake names are between us. That day in your bedroom put our lives together, and we have no say about it. I’ve always regretted that you saw what I did, but if I were put in the same situation again, if I saw him doing what he was doing to you, I’d do it all over again.”

I closed my eyes. He was saying the words I’d wondered about.

He kept whispering, “We don’t know each other, not really, but I just know how I feel right now.”

The last of my strength gave way. I leaned into him, sinking against his body, and Kian adjusted. He was now holding me in place. He was holding all of me.

His hand left my lips and curved around the back of my neck. “I understand why you’re scared. I’m scared for you, but I would never do anything to hurt you.”

My hand curled into a fist, resting on his chest.

“You don’t understand. I’ve only ever wanted to protect you. Since Edmund, every time I saw you in the courtroom, all I’ve known is that I have to protect you.”

Oh God.

He was saying everything I wanted to hear. Everything.

A small voice whispered in the back of my mind, But…

With Kian came the threat of being exposed. Even though every fiber of me wanted to agree to whatever he wanted, to go with him, to get to know him, somewhere in me was an inkling of strength that pulled me away. I had to cling to that last little bit of reservation and make it stronger. Doing that, I felt it spread inside me, and I looked up.

I saw into him and said, “I can’t, Kian. I…just…can’t.”

This was the second time I was saying good-bye.

My jaw hardened. I whispered, cupping his face as he was holding mine, “I want to, you know I do, but I can’t. Please, please don’t push this.”

I knew then, if he found me again, I wouldn’t have the strength to turn him away again. I would succumb.

I left the closet, but I had to admit that I wanted him to try again.

“You’re a dick,” Felicia greeted me as I headed inside our suite.

Her bags were packed and by the door, and she was glaring at me with hate in her eyes.

I walked by her and drawled as I flicked my coat off in my bedroom, “And you’re supposed to be on a plane right now.”

“Oh, I will be. You made sure of that, didn’t you?” She sneered at me. “You had Daddy call and make an appointment for me, you ass.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I postponed my flight till later. I wanted to make sure I was here to deliver my message in person. You were supposed to be back an hour ago.” She moved closer, her eyes taking on a dangerous glint. When she was close, too close for my liking, she whispered as her eyes narrowed to slits, “I know you had Ethan sent home. I know you’re having me sent home. And you know that I’ll be back. I will get you back, brother mine.”

A threat from her would’ve scared me when I was a boy, but I wasn’t a boy any longer. I reached up to grab her wrist. She gasped, but I only pushed her away.

“Go. Home. Whether you believe me or not, you need help. You’re a drunk, and I’m sick of being a part of it. I don’t give a damn if you’re sleeping with Ethan, but I do give a damn if you’re sleeping with my lawyer. So, yes, sister mine, he’s been let off my case. Go home. Fuck him sideways, for all I care, because I don’t care who you have in your bed just as long as that person is not in a position to screw me, too.”

“You’re sick, Kian.”

“No.” I shook my head, stepping away from her.

I saw the pain in her now. It clung to the heart inside of her, and I knew some of that was from me, from what I’d put the family through, but I knew some of it was just her, things I had no idea about.

“Go home, Felicia. Get better. Be happy with Ethan if he’s the one for you.”

Misery cut through her. It flashed over her eyes before she looked away. As she did, the door opened and shut. Laura headed inside, her eyebrows bunched together. Seeing the sight of Felicia and the wine bottle dangling from her fingers, Laura stopped and cast me a quizzical look.

I stepped farther away from my sister. “What is it?”

Laura cut her eyes to Felicia again.

My sister harrumphed, but it lacked the usual fire she had. “Oh, please. Anything you have to ask him, you can do it in front of me. Unlike your publicist ass, I know all the dirt on my brother, and trust me, he ain’t the saint that everyone thinks he is.”

“I went to prison for killing a man.”

She rolled her eyes, taking a long drag from the wine bottle and wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “And even with all the gory details, you’re still loved. If only they knew the shit I knew about you”—she waved her hand at me, the wine bottle tipping back and forth from the loose motion—“they’d view you in a whole different light, Kian.”

“You have no reason to hate me, Felicia.”

“Please. Your words might be pretty, but I saw the crime-scene pictures.” She raised her chin, daring me.

For what, I wasn’t sure.

Laura sighed. “Not to interrupt your sister’s adoring fest here, but I came to ask if there’s anything I should know about since you went back into the club and sent our car home. You were in there alone.”

Felicia burst out laughing, pretending to hit her leg in an exaggerated motion. “You’re just now figuring out that he takes off on his own? Kian’s been disappearing at all hours of the night lately.”

“Kian,”—Laura ignored my sister, watching me with raised eyebrows—“do I need to worry about anything?”

“Shut up, Felicia,” I snapped. Then, I gentled my tone to Laura. “I like to be alone. Yes, I shouldn’t. Yes, I’m aware of the dangers. And, yes, you should maybe worry, but I’m very good at getting around, undetected.”

“Catlike reflexes.” Felicia pointed at me. “It was annoying in high school, and it’s a fucking nightmare now.”

“Ignore Felicia. She’s pissed that my catlike abilities have extended to my hearing as well. I’ve sent her recent boyfriend home”—I gave my sister a meaningful look—“where I know she can resume her relationship with him there, not here.”

“Fuck this.” Finishing the rest of her wine, she flung the bottle across the living room and grabbed her bags. She threw over her shoulder, opening the suite door, “I have a flight to catch. I know what’s waiting for me at home, but I swear, Kian, I’m coming back. I’ll get you back for this.”

The door shut behind her, but it wasn’t enough for her. She opened it back up and heaved it shut once again, so it slammed against the doorframe.

“Well,” Laura noted under her breath. “Would you hate me if I went and locked it just to make sure she didn’t do that again?” She pressed a hand to her ear. “I have sensitive hearing.”

“Not at all.”

As she did, I picked up the bottle from the floor and placed it on the counter.

Laura moved into the living area and perched on a chair’s arm. She was wearing a large wraparound sweater that engulfed most of her petite body. She had dressed for the night already, wearing silk pajama bottoms underneath the sweater.

Laura wasn’t my first publicist. In the beginning, my family had hired a different one who helped spin everything so that everyone focused on my face and the fact that I’d saved Jordan. However, that publicist hadn’t been up for another media storm, saying it had put undue stress on her marriage. So, my father had hired Laura instead.

She didn’t look too aggravated at my sister’s tantrum, but I still felt the need to apologize. “About my sister—”

She waved that off. “Don’t worry. To be honest, I only allowed her to come because I thought you’d need the family support. If I’d known she was like that behind closed doors, I would’ve banned her from the beginning. She’s always been quiet and polite to me.”

“Really?”

“If you hadn’t made the call to your father, I would’ve. Having said that, though, I am glad you’re the enemy in her mind and not me.” She shuddered.

“And speaking of phone calls,” I segued into what Jo had asked me earlier. “That reporter, Erica, you requested to be on the story? She wasn’t allowed on camera tonight.”

Laura frowned, tightening her sweater around her form. “Is that a problem? She’s tenacious. She’s a good one to have on the team. You want to request a new interview—just with her?”

Did I? No. But should I?

Helping Jo’s roommate would be ideal to helping Jo out, but I remembered her last words. She’d already said good-bye to me once. The second time was tonight.

I let out a sigh. “No, we should just leave it alone.”

“Okay.” She yawned and covered it with a hand. “You know they’re going to shop that around and get a big network to show it?”

“I know. That’s fine, as long as the university gets credit.”

“You’re doing a nice thing. You didn’t have to interview with the school’s newspaper, especially after they’d already rejected your request to come here as a student.”

“I know.” I’d wanted to come here to be near Jo. That was the only reason. “It was an easy way to get my side out there. It narrows any spin a big network might’ve done.”

“That’s true.” Another yawn escaped her. “Okay. I’m starting to crash after all the craziness today. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I won’t be going back with everyone.”

She had started for the hallway but swung around. “What?”

“I’m going to stay behind.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

“Alone.”

“Kian,” she started, “please tell me I don’t have to worry about another story hitting the media? That you’re not doing something to cause unnecessary attention on you? Tell me that at least, so I can take a Valium for the plane ride home. If not, I’m going to be on edge the entire way home, telling myself I never should’ve left you.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Your sister said you’ve been disappearing at night. Is there something else here that I need to worry about?” She paused a beat. Her eyes darkened, and I knew who she was going to bring up next. “If there’s a certain…person…we need to be aware of…”

She meant Jordan.

“No.”

“They had a lot of questions about her today.”

And I had handled every one with perfection. “Again, no.”

“One last time.” She leveled me with an ominous warning. “Are. You. Sure?”

“I’m sure, Laura.”

“Okay.” Both her hands lifted in the air, surrendering. She took a step backward. “This is me, backing off, but please, if anything happens, you call me immediately.”

“I will, but nothing will happen.”

“And I’m also assuming that Parson is okay with this?”

He hadn’t been. “Of course.” But he had no say in it.

She was all the way to the door now and she reached behind her, turning the knob. “All right. I guess I won’t see you in the morning then.”

“Good night, Laura, my publicist.”

She flashed me a grin. “Good night, Kian, my pain-in-the-ass client that I hope won’t be a pain in the ass in the future.” Then, she stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.

The story was written up and received national attention.

Erica’s name was in the byline, so she took everyone to the Wine Cellar to celebrate the newspaper part of the story. The taped part of it was still being shopped around.

One night over drinks, Jake asked why it was taking so long. It’d been two weeks since Kian’s interview with them, and Erica explained that there was not much of a rush. He hadn’t scheduled any new interviews for them to be scooped, and they wanted to wait till more time was put between his last interview and the one with them.

She’d said, “If we hear that he’s interviewed with someone else, trust me, that tape will be bought, paid for, and released within a day. They’ll want to hear what he said in our interview.”

I’d been puzzled by that last statement, but I hadn’t asked any questions. When Jake let it go, I felt relieved. I didn’t want to know what else Kian had said. And since he’d left town, I went back to avoiding the news and even my email.

His face wasn’t everywhere as much as it had been. There was no news about a retrial, so the coverage was beginning to die down, but I knew when they sold their interview, it would cause another buzz. Erica promised there was stuff in that interview that he hadn’t shared anywhere…and again, I wasn’t asking. I didn’t want to know. Well, I did, but I was keeping a clear head on my shoulders. Not knowing was better.

No Kian meant no risk of losing my normalcy.

I liked being normal. And normal meant I couldn’t be late for work. I glanced at my phone and saw I was already five minutes late. I screamed.

“What’s the drama?” Erica appeared in my doorway.

Flying to the closet, I grabbed the first uniform shirt I saw and stuck my arms through the sleeves, yanking it over my head. My jeans were hastily pulled on. “I’m late for work.”

“Oh.” I could hear her grinning. “Not me. I’m on vacation this week.” She sighed. “It’s been wonderful.”

I gave her a two-second warning. “I’m going to be sprinting out of here, so if you’re in the doorway, I suggest you move aside.”

Erica laughed but stepped back as I barreled past her.

Keys. Purse. What else?

A phone started ringing in the apartment, but I had my phone. It wasn’t mine, and I didn’t have time to figure it out. I dashed out the door. “Have a good night getting drunk!”

“Will do!” Erica hollered after me. “Wait—”

I was already at the stairwell and hurrying down. Skipping the bus, I paid the extra money and hailed a cab.

When I got to work, I braked in the entryway.

Henry had taken my place. He saw me coming and had a smug smile for me. “You snooze, you lose.”

No customers were waiting.

“Fuck off. Where’s Paul?”

“It doesn’t matter. He appointed me here himself, and he said that you’re on silverware duty when you get in, so have fun being bored for the rest of the night.” He sang the last part, “With no tips.”

I growled. “You sound like a mosquito. You’re a pest like them, but it’s too bad I can’t step on you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You might be my nemesis this year, but who knows what will happen in a year? You still have two year of studies, whereas I have three more years to climb the ladder here. If you come back next year, I’ll be your boss.”

“Right. You’ll be Head Busboy. So threatening.”

He sniffed and looked down his nose at me. “Threaten away, Jo, but you have to admit, I have a point. If you come back as a hostess again, after graduating in a couple years, I won’t be the pathetic one.”

The pip-squeak had a point, but I took a page from Wanker’s book and flipped him the bird anyway. If only I had a pair of glasses to push up my nose, it would be the cherry on top. As it was, I just extended my arm as I walked to the bar section.

The bartender was polishing a wine glass when I tossed my bag into a cupboard and grabbed the case of silverware. Bruce gave me a weird look when I hopped up onto a barstool.

Reaching for one of his washcloths, I asked, “What? There are no customers in here. I’ll go in the back when they show up.”

“That’s not it.” He gestured toward Paul’s office. “He’s been looking for you the whole morning.”

“I’m only thirty minutes late.”

“Forty minutes late.”

I shot him a look. “Thanks for the correction.”

He winked, smirking at me, before he put the glass away and leaned both arms on the counter. Bruce was already fit since his other job was modeling for fitness magazines, but that pose made his arm muscles pop out even more, and he took on an imposing air. “I’m serious, Jo. He didn’t look pissed. He looked worried.”

“Really? I know he’s pissed about that crazy lady threatening to sue because of me, but I thought he’d gotten over that.”

“Jo!” Paul had spotted me. Standing in the hallway opening that led to his office, he jaw was clenched. He pointed behind himself. “My office. Now.”

Bruce gave me a pitying look, sliding the silverware to his side of the bar. “I’ll put these away for you.”

“Thanks.”

Sliding off the barstool, I couldn’t think about why Paul was so angry. He’d been angry about that one lady for a week, but that had faltered off at the beginning of this week.

Is it really because I was forty minutes late?

Being late wasn’t a norm for me. This was my first time being late.

When I got to his office, I refused to sit. I stood against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest.

He pointed to the chair across from his desk. “Sit.”

“I’ll stand.” This treatment because I was late one time? My teeth gritted against each other. Seriously?

“Sit.” He gentled his tone. “I’m not upset with you. I was worried.”

“What?”

He pointed to the chair again. “Please sit, Jo.”

“Fine.” Once I did, I asked, “What’s going on? Why were you worried?”

Instead of answering, he leaned back in his chair and watched his phone. So did I. Nothing happened.

“Uh, Paul—”

Then, it rang, and he grabbed it. Gripping it against his ear, he said, “Yeah. Yeah, she’s right here.” He held it out for me. “Some guy named Snark has been calling for the last twenty minutes.”

“Oh…shit.” I had no time to react. My fingers went numb as I took the phone. “Snark?”

“Where are you?”

“Uh…”

He’d called here.

He cut me off, “Never mind. Stay put. I’m coming to you.”

“Why? I mean, what happened?”

“They’re going after you. Have you not been watching the news?”

“No, I avoid the news. You know why.”

“Well, if you have a television nearby, turn it on. You don’t look like your old self, and thank goodness. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Wait by the back for me.”

Hanging up, I saw the television mounted in the corner of Paul’s office. “Can you turn that on for me?”

“You okay?”

I nodded.

I’d have to leave work, but I wanted to see what was going on first. Big boulders of lead lined the bottom of my stomach. They weren’t moving, just getting heavier and heavier. I knew what I was going to see, but when Paul turned on the television, I hadn’t been prepared.

I was looking back at myself, as Jordan Emory, not Jo Keen. The girl on the screen had long black hair. It was straight, no curl like what I wore now, and my cheekbones were sunk in. My face now was more filled out, but the old me still had a heart-shaped face with high cheekbones, and her eyes—I sucked in my breath. Thank God I had kept my brown contacts the entire time at the university. If anything would give me away, it would’ve been my old eyes.

When I saw my old reflection, my hand flattened against my stomach. I couldn’t make this go away. It had happened. Snark predicted it. They were going after me.

Paul murmured, “Gorgeous.”

“What?” I jumped, forgetting that he was there. My hand pressed even tighter. This wasn’t happening.

He lifted his remote to the television. “I always felt bad for her during the trial back then, but those eyes, though.”

“Eyes for the soul,” Edmund had whispered so many times to me.

I heard him once more. He was there again. His rank hot breath coated my face. I could feel him.

“Jo?”

“What?” My heart was trying to jump out of my chest.

Paul was frowning at me. “You’re damn near shaking like a leaf. What’s with you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “And who was that guy? He said it was urgent that he got ahold of you. You in trouble or something?”

Paul didn’t know.

He didn’t recognize me either.

Until that moment, I didn’t know that there were different layers of relief. I was feeling seven different shades of them at that moment. “Um.” I grabbed my arm, and he was right. It was trembling against my body. “I don’t feel good.”

“You’re never sick, and you’ve been sick twice in the same month.” He looked at me from head to toe, lingering on my middle section. The corner of his mouth twitched up, then back down. He was fighting from grinning. “Are you going to need maternity leave in the future?”

“No!” My hand was pressing against my stomach. I ripped it away now and wiped at some sweat on my forehead. “I don’t know. I’m not pregnant, I know that, but I don’t feel good. Maybe I have a stomach bug that won’t go away.”

“You sure you’re not pregnant? I need to know if you are. You have to apply ahead of time for maternity leave.”

“I’m not pregnant.”

“Okay, okay. Jeez.” He wheeled his chair backward and held his hands in the air. “I’m just saying, Jake Monroe’s been coming to visit you on your breaks a whole lot lately. It’s okay if you are. I won’t look at you any differently.”

“Stop talking.” I pressed a hand to my forehead. I was still sweating, and my boss wasn’t making it better. “I’m leaving work. I’m sick. I’m not pregnant, though. Just sick. That’s all.”

He nodded. “Got it.”

And I was out the door when he called after me, “But when you decide you are pregnant, let me know as soon as possible. I need a heads-up for maternity leave—that is, if you’re still going to work during school.”

“Shut up!” I yelled over my shoulder.

My bag.

I needed it before going to the back door. Snark was probably there already. Bruce had my bag in the air, waiting for me, as I swept into the bar. I ducked, pulling one of the straps over my body, and he only smirked at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Not you, too.”

He kept quiet. Smart of him.

Word had traveled fast. A couple of the cooks asked about my due date, and I flipped them all the middle finger, too. Henry was coming from the back section after seating some new customers in the private room.

He bypassed me, right before I reached the back door, and he gave me the thumbs-up. “I approve, too, my nemesis. And you’re right. I won’t get promoted when you go on maternity leave.”

Violence is bad. I tried telling myself that, and then—screw it.

His back was to me, but I stuck my foot out and hit it against his ankle.

Henry stumbled and almost went down. He caught himself, grabbing ahold of the wall, but he shot me a glare. “That was mature.”

I was out the door, and it slammed shut behind me. I was grinning when Snark pulled up and waved from inside.

“Get in. We have to talk.”

Then, I remembered. My old face was plastered all over the news now.

Oh, boy.