Page 31 of Free to Judge (Amaryllis Heritage #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY

If love is a battlefield, then Amaryllis Events must have been declared by the State Department as an official war zone sometime between yesterday and today.

The thought pings through my head as I reach my office door Monday morning.

I enter the mansion and everything seems perfectly normal at first.

From the depths of the mansion, Aunt Corinna is shouting at Uncle Phil to get out of her kitchen—to stop trying to steal scraps from cakes she’s carving.

Aunt Holly is changing the art in the main foyer to some of her summer inspired prints.

Aunt Em is in her office on the phone with an Irish lace distributor, arguing about how an increase in import tax is going to bankrupt us.

In other words, it feels like it’s going to be just another Monday.

Still, I’m cautious as I make my way upstairs.

I’ve yet to confront the two people who will be directly impacted by any lies I may have to tell them—Mama and Aunt Cassidy.

Having not heard from my mother since lunch with my father, I have no idea if he kept his word.

If he didn’t, I don’t know how I’ll be able to face them.

Once I reach my office, there’s a note pinned to the bulletin board just below my nameplate. Plucking it down, I read:

We’re in the conference room with breakfast. Join us. Not a request.

“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” I mutter. Quickly opening my office, I dump my bags inside before I head to the conference room either to be fattened up for slaughter or to be told no harm was done in the communicating of Declan’s employment by Hudson Investigations.

Mama and Aunt Cassidy are sitting on the same side of the long mahogany table with a platter of doughnuts. They both look up when I walk in. My heart punches my ribs like a boxer warming up for a match at the calculating look in their eyes.

“There she is,” Cassidy says, waving me over. Her tone is deceptively sweet, which makes all my red flags wave like they’re being twirled in a parade down Main Street. She gestures for me to take a seat at the head of the table.

I frown as I slide into the chair, wondering why, if I’m about to be interrogated, I’m not across from them. Neither of them says anything, they just stare at me.

“So… how was everyone’s weekend?” I ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

“Interesting,” Mama says, quirking an eyebrow. “I had an unexpected dinner…date with your father last night.”

Well, that’s that. He kept his word. I brace myself for the fallout, leaning forward and snagging a doughnut as if carbohydrates might shield me from the emotional explosion I’m anticipating. “That must have been…nice.” I try not to sound too eager or too terrified.

“It was certainly illuminating,” Mama replies, gauging my reaction.

I plow through the first doughnut, have the second shoved in my mouth, and stretch for a third before my mother reaches over and gently slaps my hand, admonishing me. “Those aren’t for you to avoid answering our questions. They’re for our guests.”

“Whaa goosts?” I chew and swallow before trying again. “What guests?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Cassidy says airily.

“I don’t have my laptop.” I stand to make a break to hide in the sanctuary of my office, but my mother’s stare pins me in place.

“You won’t need it.” Just then, the conference door opens, and my father slips inside. His eyes seek out my mother first. He makes a beeline for her, kissing her warmly. Well, she didn’t nut him. That’s a good sign. A sigh of relief escapes me.

Maybe things won’t be so bad after all. I cross my fingers beneath the table even as I knock on the underside of the wood.

Then my father proceeds to walk over to me, pressing his lips to my forehead and murmuring, “It will be okay. You were right, this needs to happen,” before making his way around to do the same with Aunt Cassidy, before returning to sit next to my mother.

By the time he’s seated, Uncle Caleb is in the room, greeting us all in much the same manner. He takes his place next to my father.

I’m about to ask what’s happening when the door opens again.

Two men enter. Both of them are dressed casually in ball caps, worn T-shirts, and faded jeans.

I immediately recognize Jon, but I do a double take when I realize the second man is Declan.

I’m not certain if I’m more knocked off balance because he’s not in a suit or because the casual clothing he’s wearing isn’t black.

In fact, I think the worn Harvard Law T-shirt and jeans he has on belong to Jon. Both men sit next to Caleb.

I’m so stunned they’re here I almost fail to acknowledge the door opening and another couple entering the room—my cousin Laura and Liam.

Tension ratchets up when they sit across the conference room table from her twin and Declan.

My gaze swings from person to person like I’m a spectator at Wimbledon.

Cassidy and Mama are watching their husbands closely, waiting for them to crack under the pressure.

Caleb’s jaw is clenched, his eyes locked on his daughter.

Liam glares at my father. Laura, in turn, is calm as her eyes shift between her twin and the man who she may or may not remember from the broadcast during girls night.

And Declan…well, his eyes are locked on me.

The doughnut I swallowed suddenly feels like a rock in my stomach. “Well,” I start, “this is… unexpected.”

Cassidy praises her sister. “Ali thought I should understand what was going on.”

“You were right to encourage your father to speak with me, Kalie.” My mother’s voice holds an edge as she scowls at the man beside her. My father’s expression doesn’t flicker in the slightest.

Jon starts to open his mouth, but a withering glare from his mother has him snapping it shut. I can’t prevent the snicker that escapes. Even now that Jon’s some fearless special agent for Hudson, one look from his mama causes him to crumble like a dry cookie.

Declan turns on me, snarling, “This isn’t funny, Kalie.”

“Declan,” I warn him only to have my mother leap in to shield me.

“I do believe, Mr. Conian, she was laughing at her cousin being scolded by his mother. Not you, nor the situation we all find ourselves in. You don’t have to protect us from each other,” she tries to soften the reprimand.

“I obviously do. None of you should have the kind of knowledge you do. It’s for your own good. I’m doing my damndest to keep you all safe.”

“Are you? By doing what?” Laura’s question silences the room. I suspect if she had a scalpel in her hands just then, she would have shanked Declan. “Was it considered helping when you got one of the men who held me hostage released on a technicality?”

Well, that answers that. Laura definitely recognizes Declan.

Liam sighs. “Sweetheart, listen to them.”

Her head twists on Liam slowly. She hisses, “As you were aware of this, hush your mouth if you know what’s good for you, Liam.”

His eyes plead for mercy—as if he doesn’t know better than to expect any. “I knew Dec when we worked together at the agency. I recommended him for the job at Hudson. Yes, I knew he was working undercover inside the Byrnes’ organization.”

Uncle Caleb clears his throat. “Right. Laura, I might have forgotten to mention that.”

Laura and her mother both track Uncle Caleb with their eyes with equally lethal glares.

Even as Aunt Cass inhales sharply, Laura blasts her father.

“You seem to forget quite a bit these days, Father. Perhaps we should look into getting you some occupational therapy at the hospital to assist you with your defects.”

Jon shakes his head before his gaze lands on Declan. “Yeah, you’re on your own, buddy, for whatever they dish out.”

Declan’s jaw drops, flabbergasted. “Are you for real?”

He points at his twin and then his mother. “They scare me.”

Declan points at me. “Well, your cousin frustrates and scares the ever-loving hell out of me, but you don’t see me backing down when it comes to her safety, do you?”

Jon’s eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’d rather ask for forgiveness than beg for permission if I know I can keep her alive for one more damn minute.” His palms slap down on the polished mahogany. The sound echoes around the room.

Silence reigns in the room at his declaration. That’s when Uncle Caleb speaks up. “Does everybody appreciate the seriousness of this discussion?”

Dad steeples his fingers together. “Everyone needs to listen to the real story of what Declan’s doing.

” Methodically, he recounts every moment of how he never gave up looking for his and Aunt Cassidy’s father.

That Jack Marshall, as a distant relative, was accepted as a member of the Irish Mob.

“The Byrnes aren’t a wannabe group, Cass.

They control most of the northeast. It wouldn’t surprise me if at least a quarter of your clients are in some way related to them. ”

“Do you think he knows who I am?” Cassidy asks with a calmness I envy.

“No. He might speculate, but he doesn’t know.”

She relaxes marginally at that. Mama wraps her arm around her shoulder.

But their relief is short-lived when my father drops a bomb in the center of the conference room table.

“I’m absolutely certain he knows who Kalie is and has been entertaining the idea of going after her, which is why I’ve upped her protection. ”

If someone were to hook the room up to a Holter monitor, it would send off alarms due to the way emotions in the room are spiking and plummeting with each new revelation. Dad swings his gaze in my direction before jerking up his chin. “I promised you—complete transparency.”

“You knew?” Mama shouts at me.

“Only for the last few days.” My eyes find Declan’s. His swirl with a dichotomy of emotion—fury and support. “Declan told me the truth after a confrontation at Hudson. At first, I thought Dad was just being his natural autocratic self because I’d slugged Declan at court.”

He grumbles, “I wouldn’t say you slugged me, Kalie. Punched me, sure.”

My mother’s voice could re-freeze the polar ice caps. “I heard she landed you on your ass with a single hook, Mr. Conian. Considering you’re a trained agent and my daughter isn’t, I’d give the round to her.”

“Personally, I’d have preferred if she’d landed a second swing at my brother—but there’s still time.” Laura bares her teeth at Jon in a facsimile of a smile.

“I didn’t do anything,” Jon argues.

“There you go making the point for your sister,” Aunt Cassidy interjects before her son can say another word. “What’s our motto?”

He mumbles it under his breath.

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?” She holds her hand to her ear.

“Family first.”

Mama slams her fist on the table. “Now, from every bonded member of our family.”

The men hang their heads. They mumble, “Family first.”

“Exactly.” Mama’s eyes are daggers, but she’s fisting the necklace she’s worn my entire life—my grandmother’s diamond. It’s her signal to my father they can work anything out together. “Fix this. I want my daughter out of the line of fire.”

There’s a murmur of assent in the room.

Aunt Cassidy’s tone is monotone when she asks Declan, “You’ve met him. What did you think of him?”

“Jack Marshall?”

“Yes.”

“Considering he had a gun pressed in between my eyebrows at the time, not much.” It’s the calmest Declan’s been since he came into the room. “I also am under the working theory he killed my former partner.”

Cassidy’s chin jerks up. “I see. Thank you for your honesty. It’s a refreshing attribute around here.” Her glare encompasses her husband, brother, son, and Liam. Ouch. Laura’s wince mirrors my own.

I try to soothe flaring tempers by leaping into the fray. “Everyone calm down. We’re all on the same side.”

Declan’s fury returns. “A side which wouldn’t be this aggravated if you hadn’t forced your father to loop in your mother.”

Mama snaps her fingers. “Poof. Just like that, all your bonus points just evaporated. You see, Declan—you don’t mind if I call you Declan, do you?—all the women in this family are forged from strength. There isn’t a single one of us who can’t handle what the world tries to throw at us.”

“Don’t underestimate us,” Aunt Cassidy agrees.

“Don’t underestimate them,” he snaps back. His eyes dart to meet mine, and I read the fear in them.

There’s a part of me that wants to curl up and purr in satisfaction, particularly after the way he left last night. Well, well, well. Isn’t his reaction interesting. Instead, I maintain a stoic demeanor while the battle rages on.

Ultimately, we leave the men in the conference room to argue strategy about what to do now that we all know. On our way down to the kitchen, Mama’s hand falls to my shoulder. I turn my head to the side and find myself meeting her determined eyes. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“You can’t promise that.”

She leans forward and presses her lips against my forehead. I breathe in her scent and halt our descent. I’ve needed a hug from her for days. When I mention as much, she mutters, “Another thing to be pissed at your father about.”

I let out a watery laugh.

Then she probes carefully. “This Declan. Who is he to you?”

“Honesty?”

“Always.”

“I think he could be my downfall.”

She rears back, appalled. “Good lord, Kalie. Tell me you’re not falling into something with a man just like your father.”

I hook my arm through hers and wait until we make it down the back steps before I admit, “He’s like a ticking time bomb, Mama. I’m just waiting for things to explode in my face.”