Page 75 of Free to Judge

“Was it? If I hadn’t done my job by the book…”

“She still might not be alive. We both know it.” I hope that all these years later, he can see that, but it might be asking too much.

I’m somewhat relieved when he gives the smallest nod.

“What made you go undercover to take down the Byrnes and Tiberis?”My grandfather. The idea my biological grandfather is a part of this is still something impossible to wrap my head around. Then again, it also supports the theory behind the debate between nature and nurture. Hell, my whole family is a case study for it.

“I couldn’t not do anything. I had to avenge her.”

“You loved her.”

“I did. I do,” he says honestly. “But never in a romantic sense. From the day we met, Tanya was my sister in every sense of the word. Somehow, I have to make up for letting her down.”

“She’d say you never did.”

He looked at me. “I’ve been trying not to drown in the guilt.”

“She’d be proud of you.”

“That’s what Holder used to try to convince me of.”

“Who is that?”

“My former director.”

We sit in silence again, the kind that didn’t need to be filled.

“She didn’t get to see them grow up,” he said finally. “But I still keep tabs. Quietly. I know what school they go to. Iknow Emmitt’s a great little artist and Bry’s got his mom’s determination. I just wish?—”

“You were still a part of their lives,” I conclude.

He nodded. “Every damn day.”

I lean in and kiss his temple and hope he doesn’t disappear into the darkness so deeply he can’t find his way back to being the man Tanya’s boys loved.

Back to a place he once called home.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Findingtime to get together is difficult between his duties to take down the Tiberis and Byrnes, not to mention my responsibilities and my family. Then there’s the fact Grace doesn’t have a clue the same way Laura does. I never thought I’d resent having a roommate, but in the month since Declan and I started being whatever the hell we are, we’ve seen each other four times alone.

Every other time, someone else has been around like an overbearing chaperone—namely, Jon.

Tonight is the first night we have more than a few hours alone. Grace was invited back overseas—this time to consult on an ear. Everyone in my family plans to get together for a family dinner, and I’ve warned them I’ll be leaving early.

My body feels as taut as a stretched tightrope, every muscle quivering with sharp tension. I roll my shoulders repeatedly, trying in vain to shake off the almost unbearable tingling of adrenaline coursing through me—a sensation rivaling the electrifying start line moments of an unforgettable race in my storied career.

Tonight is a different kind of anticipation—a charged readiness pounding through me that has nothing to do with competition and everything to do with wanting a certain stubborn man’s hands on me.

I change clothes three times before deciding on yoga pants and a camisole topped with a jean jacket. Every part of me is alive, every cell humming, and I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want him.

Or worse, been so afraid to hope for what we might become.

I know he wants what I do. He just can’t see beyond the horizon of his mission, and I’m terrified he’ll retreat into the undercover world, leaving me behind.

He’s never done this and doesn’t know if he can. But he told me he wants to. Told me he wants to try.

I do too.