“How will we accomplish that?”
His gaze flicked to Keiran. Something had passed between them before he returned his gaze to me. “The chances of you being indicted increases with each secret you keep. It’s not my job to implicate you, but it is my job to acquit you.” I could feel Keiran staring as if he could exam my very soul as the lawyer spoke. “As of now, there haven’t been any charges officially brought against you, but that could change at any time. You need to be ready for that. You both do. Your grandmother’s residency at the center is a strong alibi, but if there is a witness or evidence that can place you any closer to the scene than necessary, it could destroy our entire defense.” He clasped his hand together and leaned forward. “Is there such a person?”
I saw Keiran tense, and his fists clenched over the polished oak. We were both thinking of the nurse who had now become a threat. With those simple words spoken, her life had just started to count down.
I met Keiran’s gaze and pleaded with my eyes, and when I didn’t seem to get through to him, I panicked and silently mouthed, “No.”
“Good.” Oh no. I’d spoken the word out loud unintentionally. “This means we have a better chance of beating this case before it even starts.”
Yes, but only because Keiran would ensure the nurse never had the chance to testify. Thompson left, and Keiran and I continued to stare at each other long after the door had closed.
“No.”
“You didn’t leave me much choice, did you baby?” The calm tone of his voice belied his malicious intent.
“I don’t want anyone dying for me.”
His eyes narrowed and his lips curled. “You can’t say that after you helped kill my father.” He then stood up seemingly to dismiss the conversation.
“I don’t want anyone innocent dying for me. I said no.”
He shoulders tensed as he gripped the door handle. “It’s not your decision. Besides… you didn’t give me a chance to say no.”
Chapter Nine
KEIRAN
I practically ran from the conference room to keep from doing something that would make our situation worse. How the fuck could she ask me not to protect her and at the same time, assume the worse about me? It seemed as if Mitch’s murder was bringing to light everything that remained unresolved between us.
She still didn’t trust me.
I didn’t think Lake would ever lie to me, but with each secret, I felt the pressing need to protect myself from her—to distance myself from her and the ache she was causing in my chest. Her fearless chase was breaking us.
“Why are you walking away?” I heard her call out once we were in the dark parking garage.
“I’m not. I’m running away from doing something we’ll both regret. Don’t push me right now.”
“When are we going to stop running away from each other? I fucked up, but I’m not your enemy so stop treating me like I am.”
What? She thought I was treating her like the enemy?
I pivoted on my heel and ate up the distance between us. One quick glance around showed we were alone. I grabbed her and forced her against my chest. She refused to submit. I could see it in her eyes, but she wasn’t fighting me, either because her mind still cautioned her that a part of me was still dangerous.
“I used to think that no one or nothing could make me turn back because there was nothing worth losing you over. I never counted on you being the one.”
Her gaze narrowed with suspicion clouding the blue-green coloring of her eyes. “What does that mean?”
It means I’d give anything—sacrifice anyone—to save her.
“It means get in the car. I’m taking you home.”
I released her and waited for her to obey. For her sake and mine, she stepped around me and got in. I didn’t move until I heard the door close. When I got in, I turned up the volume and let the heavy guitar of Meg Meyer’s Desire fill the tension between us.
Every dark desire she confessed to I wanted with Lake, and when I got her alone, there was nothing that would stop me from seeing it through. She had forgotten my claim on her mind and body. It would be my pleasure reminding her.
For eleven hours, the anticipation built, and she became more nervous with each passing hour. I could almost tell what she was thinking in the way she’d wring her hands or tap her foot. The nervous glances she didn’t think I caught were a dead giveaway.