Saving Liberty (Kissing #6) (20 page)

“Now let’s get you bringing your knee up fast.
Not like this!”
We both laughed again, but this time it barely broke the tension at all. We were too close.
Way
too close. It felt like the temperature in the room had shot up ten degrees since he closed the door.

He eased away from me. “Let me see your hardest, fastest knee.” He held out his hand, palm down, as a target.

I swung my leg up. My bare knee hit his palm with a soft slapping sound and, as I wobbled around on my standing leg, his fingertips grazed my thigh just above the knee. I let my leg fall back. We must have only been in contact for a split second, but the feel of his hand remained, sending twisting ribbons of electricity all the way up my leg to my groin.

“It needs to be harder,” he said. He walked around behind me, almost-but-not-quite touching me. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. Then his hands were on my
hips from behind. I swallowed. “You need to twist from here,” he said. “A little step back... then step into it, twisting, and ram your leg up the inside of his thigh and hit right where I showed you.” He started to move me, controlling me like a mannequin. “
Back....”
My hips flexed under his hands, his fingertips stroking the crease where my legs joined my body, and I went weak. I stepped back... and my ass pressed against his cock, hot and fully hard now, outlined through his suit pants. I was almost panting, the need to just spin around and kiss him almost overpowering.

“And
forward,”
he murmured in my ear, his hands directing me. His cock nestled right up against my ass as my knee came forward and up.

We stayed there for long seconds, me balanced on one leg and supported by his hands, his body molded to my back. I could feel every slow breath he took.

“You know I didn’t want to kiss him,” I whispered. “I mean: not at all. I didn’t go out there for that. I don’t even like him.”

I felt his slow nod... and with it, a shift in his body as he relaxed. He
had
been jealous, and hurt.

I lowered my leg and turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. The tension had never been this thick, this heavy in the air. I realized we were breathing in time. I could see the struggle in his eyes: he
did
want me... and he was straining against whatever it was holding him back. I saw his hands flex and then tighten into white-knuckled fists.
He’s having to force himself not to grab me.

Very deliberately, he took a step back. The air that rushed in to fill the gap between us was freezing. His eyes said,
we can’t.

And I felt my own eyes go hot. I turned away before the frustration and hurt could spill over. I knew it was something inside him, or maybe the gulf between us, not
me...
but that didn’t stop it feeling like a rejection.

“Why
did
you go out there with him?” Kian asked. His low voice vibrated through me, those slivers of shining Irish making the back of my neck prickle and my breath catch.

“It was Kerrigan,” I said.

“
Kerrigan?”

I took a step away from him—I had to, or I was just going to throw myself at that big, strong chest and wrap my arms around him. I shook off the scarlet fog of lust in my brain—I had to physically shake my head to clear it and even then, when I answered, my voice was strained. “I went out there to listen to him on the phone.”

Kian gave me a look.

“He didn’t know! Giggs was my... cover.” It sounded stupid, now. “It worked! I heard him!”

Kian nodded and crossed his arms. “Okay... what did you hear?”

I looked up into those clear blue eyes and opened my mouth... then hesitated. It sounded ridiculous. He was going to laugh at me... or think I was crazy. That’s why I hadn’t said anything, until now.

He tilted his head to the side. “
What?”

I looked at my feet. A second later, he took a pace towards me and I felt his warm finger under my chin, tilting my head back up. His voice was low and serious, but with just enough teasing to make me smile. “If you build up to it like that and then don’t tell me, I’m going to take you over my bloody knee.”

I stared up at him. He
wasn’t
going to laugh at me. He was the one person who wouldn’t.

I took a deep breath and let it out. “I heard him talking to a guy, telling him to go ahead with the next piece of business.”

“Okay...” said Kian.

“But—and I know this sounds crazy—”

He nodded and waited, his patience helping me through my nerves.

I took a deep breath and then said it in a rush. “The guy he was talking to was the second shooter from the park.”

I watched him go through a whole range of emotions. Incredulity. Disbelief.
Fear...
for me. He finally put his big hands on my shoulders and said, “You’re
sure?”

I nodded. Saying it out loud had made me even more certain. “I’ve heard that voice over and over in my head, ever since the attack.
Definitely
him.”

Kian turned away and ran a hand through his hair. He took a few slow breaths as he gazed around the room. “Fuck,” he said at last.

“That was my reaction, too.”

Kian rubbed his chin, then scowled. I got the feeling he missed his stubble. “You know what this means?”

I shook my head. “Don’t say it.” It was too big, too shattering. I’d tried to go there in my head several times since the party and I just couldn’t—my brain refused to process it. I sat down on my bed, pulled my legs up and hugged my knees.

“Kerrigan’s—”

“
Don’t.”
I buried my face in my knees. “It’s crazy.”

“Kerrigan’s working with the Brothers of Freedom.”

I could feel him looking at me. I lifted my head just enough to look up at him. “I must be wrong,” I said. “It must have been some guy with a really similar voice.”

He stared right back at me. “
Are
you wrong?”

I thought about it...
willed
it not to be true. But the certainty was iron-hard, had been since the second I’d heard the voice again. “... no,” I said in a small voice. Saying that one word was like casting a spell. The temperature seemed to drop by several degrees—goosebumps stood out on my bare arms.

The White House didn’t feel safe, anymore. Kerrigan had brought the danger right inside.

Kian let out a long breath and leaned against my closet. “
Fuck,
” he said again. He stared off into space as he worked through the implications.

I was growing colder and colder. I’d never felt so alone in my life. “What are we going to do?” I asked. And then realized I’d said
we
when I meant
I.

Kian looked right at me and I suddenly realized it was
we
after all. A little glow of warmth bloomed into life right in the center of my chest. “We need to go to your dad,” he said. “Right now.”

I shook my head. “We don’t have any evidence. You’re the one who warned me about causing an incident and embarrassing my dad.”

“That was when we were talking about Kerrigan wanting to turn America into a police state. That’s politics: this is actual
crime.
Jesus, we’re talking
treason
here, he’s involved with terrorists! And if they’re planning something else....”

I shook my head again. “
No.
Listen to what we’re saying. Its nuts.”

He hunkered down so that he was at my eye level. “Truth is, if we follow this thing to the logical conclusion, it's worse.” He took a deep breath. “The guys at the park—they weren’t militia thugs, they were ex-military. The sort of guys Rexortech has thousands of. And the attack in the park gave Kerrigan exactly the excuse he needed to push the Guardian Act. Put it all together: I don’t think Kerrigan’s just working with the Brothers of Freedom; I think he
set them up.
”

I stared at him. I knew it made sense, but I didn’t want to believe it, not even of Kerrigan.

The Vice President was responsible for the attack in the park. For six deaths. For me getting shot.

“We
can’t
go to my dad,” I said. “We
can’t.
Not without any evidence.”

“Emily….”

“No!” I was so worked up, it didn’t even hit me that he’d called me
Emily.
“Put yourself in my position. Everybody already thinks I’m crazy—”

“They don’t.”

“They
do!
Think about how this’ll look: messed up woman accuses the VP of treason. No one’ll believe it and—” I broke off and swallowed, choking back a sob. “What if I
am
wrong? What if it wasn’t his voice, what if it’s just my mind playing tricks on me?”

He sat down beside me on the bed, the mattress sinking under his muscled bulk. I’d leaned forward, my hair falling over my face like a curtain, but suddenly his big, warm hand was there, fingers sliding between the strands and pushing it back. “I don’t believe that,” he said softly. He left his hand there, palm nestled against my cheek, and I could feel his strength throbbing into me.

“I wake up,” I whispered, “
every night
clutching at my throat because I felt it cut, or grabbing at my chest because I felt the bullet go through, or—” Tears sprang to my eyes. “Or I’m curled into a ball because I’ve just lived through them stripping me and—”

His hand slid from my cheek. He wrapped his arm around my back and hugged me into his side. His whole body had tensed with anger, every muscle rock hard. I leaned across him, resting the back of my head against his chest. “I think I
am
crazy,” I whispered. “You’ve helped me cope. But I don’t know if I can trust myself anymore. We need proof. I need to
know
I’m right before we tell anyone.”

I felt his nod. “Okay,” he said at last. “How do we get proof?”

“He told them to use
S32.
Like it was a place.” I shook my head. “I’ve got this feeling... I recognize that from somewhere but I don’t know where. It’s been going round and round in my head. I’ll keep thinking about it.”

He nodded again. “We’ve got one thing on our side: Kerrigan doesn’t know anyone suspects.”

Shit.

He must have felt me tense up because he pushed me back so that he could look at me. “What?”

“When you beat up Giggs... Kerrigan heard all the noise and came to look.”

“You think he knows you heard?”

I slowly nodded. “Maybe.”

Kian put his hands on my shoulders again. This time, he gave them a squeeze. When he spoke, his voice was more scared than I’d ever heard it—scared not for him but for me. “You have to be
very, very
careful. Don’t go near Kerrigan. No more digging into stuff on your own.”

“You think he’d hurt me?” As soon as I’d said it, realization hit and I closed my eyes. Of course he would. If I was right about all this, he’d already plotted to have me killed at the park. That whole brutal attack, just to scare the public into accepting the goddamn Guardian Act. My stomach suddenly twisted. Kerrigan had already gotten most of the country on his side—how much worse would it have been if I’d been killed along with the six others? The President’s daughter, slain by terrorists... a big public funeral... there would have been
outrage.
And my dad, grief-stricken, would have gotten behind the bill himself.

That’s why Kerrigan had targeted me. It was the one way he could get my dad on his side, the only way he could guarantee his bill got passed. It would have worked, if Kian hadn’t been there.

I opened my eyes and nodded to Kian that I understood. I could see the pain in his eyes: like he’d trade places with me in a heartbeat if he could. “I’ll stay away from Kerrigan,” I said.

Kian nodded and rose, then turned to face me. “It’s late,” he said. “I should go.”

I checked my phone and it was after midnight—I’d lost track of time. “You should go,” I agreed. And then, for some reason, I stood up and took a step towards him. I was almost touching him, chin already lifting, when I realized I’d been moving instinctively to kiss him goodbye. That’s how strong it was, between us: I couldn’t bear to just let him go.

He looked down at me, those big blue eyes infinitely sad. And he shook his head.
We can’t.

‘You do...
like
me?” I asked, a lump in my throat.

His eyes widened, as if aghast that I’d doubt it. “Jesus!” He looked away for a second and I could see him fighting with it, the words difficult to say after so many weeks spent bottling them up. Then he looked right at me. “
Yes!”
he blurted. “I’m so into you it would scare you, if you knew how much.”

I bit my lip. “Then tell me why,” I whispered. “I know it’s not just the job. I know it’s something that happened to you. Tell me.”