Page 7 of Free to Judge (Amaryllis Heritage #2)

CHAPTER SIX

Her dazzling blue eyes bore into mine with a searing fury, so incredibly different than the last time I looked into them seven years ago. Christ, has it been that long?

I was too stunned to fake my reaction when her fist collided with my face.

I didn’t resist, letting the motion carry me to the floor.

I let her channel all her raw anger into me, knowing she needed to unburden herself to stay strong for those around her.

Besides, enduring her dainty fist to the face was a lot easier than putting her in danger by explaining the truth—that I’m not the enemy she believes me to be.

Still, I admire the fact Kalie has such a strong moral code she believes in.

I just hate I’m on the side of it she abhors to such a degree she lost sight of her own safety in the process.

“Mr. Conian.”

I snap around. A court officer eyes me with thinly veiled disgust. “You pressing charges?”

I let the thought circle in my mind. Then, like a ruthless sovereign, decree Kalie Marshall’s fate. “Take her to the station. I’ll let you know.”

The officer’s sneer cuts through the tension. “I figured you’d say something like that.”

I don’t say anything. Choosing—as is the better choice in the world I presently inhabit—to let my silence speak for me.

He snickers. “Still, the lady’s right hook is something else.”

I glare as fiercely as I can, forcing him into a hasty retreat. Deep down, I admit he’s right. I never would have imagined my attending a Harvard Law graduation just so I could hear a speaker would lead to my meeting a woman.

Nor did I predict the way our lives would diverge in the manner they have now.

I rub the unexpected ache in my jaw. The raven-haired dynamo packs a shockingly powerful punch.

It wasn’t as brutal as the beatings I endured while working for the bureau, nor the torturous trials I took back in the early days proving my “loyalty” to the Byrnes scion.

Yet, I’m still caught off guard that Kalie managed to clip me, but good.

I was unaware of the vicious torment occurring to Kalie's cousin—an exceptional ER doctor. Instead, under my cover as the Byrnes’ family’s lawyer—silently passing along information to my actual boss—I began building up a reputation for being able to get their soldiers and enforcers off using my brains instead of threats.

It got me noticed, giving me more access and helping to facilitate my own agenda.

Still, I wasn’t expecting what happened next.

Since there was a business tie between the Byrnes and the Tiberis, they called in a marker.

Suddenly, I was being ordered to represent the pezzi di merda.

Since I wasn’t in any way associated with the raid in Darien—something the Tiberi famigilia considered fortunate—it appeared to be a legitimate business transaction.

The only benefit is the extremely long leash the Byrnes gave me by sending me to Darien after they entrusted me with the defense. In fact, this case has taken so long that I’ve been asked to check up on their business interests “as a favor.”

The Byrnes ordered me to do it.

Favor, my ass. With most of their crew either dead or behind bars, the entire outfit is in danger of crumbling. Which is just how my real bosses want it.

As much as their family may be in the dark, the late-night strategy sessions I’ve had with my true bosses led to the necessity of getting Sal Tiberi released to keep the least dangerous of the rackets functioning without getting my hands any dirtier than they are while we continue to funnel more critical information to the Feds.

While avoiding having my head chopped off in the process.

Now, the Byrnes assume I’m playing nice with the Tiberis.

The Tiberis are overjoyed I managed an actual break in what was presumably an airtight case.

Neither has the slightest idea that I’m secretly aligning with federal prosecutors to bury them so deep in the penal system that retribution becomes impossible.

Still, as Kalie is dragged away in handcuffs, bitter remorse tugs at me—hating how her unwavering loyalty to her family has snared her into this mess.

The reality is, I do know members of her family far better than she would appreciate.

I suspect by the time she’s done being fingerprinted, her connections will bail her out—long before she ever sees a real holding cell.

Impassively, I continue dabbing at my lip as the crowd disperses, and only when they vanish entirely does the tension leach from my muscles. The last thing I need is further attention.

Not now, of all times.

“You okay?” my direct supervisor, Jonathan Lockwood, asks quietly. I’ve been on the Hudson Investigation payroll for years now, trading my badge for a broader, potentially lethal cover that let me weave through the murky depths of the Byrnes family’s operations.

My thoughts flash back to the long-ago night at Director Holder’s office when I received a text from a shadow account. Without the tech wizards at Hudson Investigations, it’s a certainty my cover would have crumbled under the first computer upgrade.

But here I am, years later, still alive.

“I didn’t expect to run into your family,” I murmur.

Jon’s heavy exhale bristles with frustration.

His reason for being at court today to testify for another case gave us an opportunity to meet in person.

While we try not to meet in public too often, it would seem odd if our paths never crossed.

“Yeah. If I’d known Kalie was going to be here, I wouldn’t have paraded you around. ”

I work my jaw from side to side slowly, barely concealing my dark amusement. “Who would’ve thought the biggest reaction to seeing me would come from your cousin?”

“You’d be surprised,” he replies, his eyes deep with unspoken history I can’t penetrate. “Sometimes you have to worry most about the smallest members of my family.”

I maintain a blank face, but her word “traitor” echoes violently in my mind, repeating over and over.

That label has haunted me since the rumors began to swirl about me.

It hardly mattered if they were whispered, shouted, or spat in a thousand tongues.

It was the price I agreed to pay to find out what happened to Tanya.

Worth every ounce of pain, in my opinion.

Yet those in the know—those who’d have a target in between their eyes if the truth escapes before we’re done—know I fought for something far larger than my own judgment.

“We’ve got your back,” Jon murmurs.

“I know.” And it’s that knowledge why, when Hudson Investigations approached me, I leaped at the chance to not only utilize latitude to take these bastards down, but to join a team of men and women from varying backgrounds who all have the same mission.

Protect the innocent.

The company founded by Jon’s father and uncle admittedly wants retribution for what happened in the recent past. But they’re ravenous for an opening into the human trafficking ring there are whispers about the Byrnes being involved in.

For decades.

I not only supplied enough information for them to start their search, but I’ve become the weapon Hudson has selectively aimed to dismantle that sinister pipeline by writing contracts my “bosses” are signing in their arrogance without understanding.

Teams of agents are now capable of rescuing children snatched from exclusive homes across the country because of the intelligence I’m able to provide.

It might not make up for receiving a cooler filled with the severed head of a woman I deeply cared about, but it’s something.

Jon’s firm hand on my shoulder shatters my introspection. “We’ve got bigger problems than Kalie.”

“What now?”

He maneuvers me through the bustling crowd—a sea of people oblivious to the spectacle of a man sucker-punched by a woman half his size. His eyes dart wildly until he pulls me away, grumbling, “I told you not to get near my family, Conian!”

My lips harden into a sneer—a barely hidden threat beneath a veneer of controlled calm. “Then keep your rabid cousin away from me.”

Jon growls but relents the moment we disappear from the view of the courthouse’s chaotic hallway. He flips his phone around to reveal a text message:

Uncle Keene:

Office.

Now.

I let out a sharp exhale. Yes, I’d anticipated this reaction from the protective father—not my demanding boss.

Keene Marshall is nothing if not predictable.

The second he realized his perfect princess had endangered herself—whether on purpose or not—I suspected I was going to go a round or two with him.

But I refuse to let her emotional outburst derail years of struggle slogging through filth for one resolute goal.

Retribution for Tanya.

With that purpose still burning in my veins, I follow Jon out after a brief meeting with the court officers who want to take my statement.

They seemed terrified that I’d unleash holy hell, sending some of my “family” in their direction.

What they don’t realize is I have more respect for them than they could possibly imagine.

After giving Jon a signal to meet me at Hudson, I step out of the courthouse before subduing my groan at the number of paparazzi on the steps.

“Mr. Conian!”

“Do you believe you’ll be able to get all the Tiberis exonerated?”

“What happened in the rotunda?”

“Do you plan on pressing charges?”

Answering each query from the media with a curt, “No comment,” I slip into the back of an armor-plated limousine waiting at the courthouse’s base. In the vehicle’s shadowed confines, I exhale sharply after giving the driver precise directions.

So far, everything is unfolding exactly as planned.

Except for a thorn on the perfect rose that is Kalie Marshall.

Groaning, I massage my jaw, already hearing the thunderous disapproval of her father. I hope the man is brief—I have work to do.

And it wasn’t my fault the fight ignited.

With this thought, I slump back into the seat. Keene is a reasonable man. He’ll understand.

I hope.