“My pleasure, ma’am.” He stopped to look around for a second and I saw some of the tension slip away from him: he liked it up here as much as I did.
“What’s bothering you?” I asked, before I’d even realized I was going to say it.
“What?”
“Something’s been up, even before you came to LA. You’re not...happy in DC, are you?”
“Happy? Of course I’m happy! I’ve got you!”
I gave him a look. He looked away, exasperated. Looked furiously around him, his gaze going everywhere but me. But there was no escape, not up here. We were alone and private and his defenses were down just enough. He finally sighed, looked down at the ground and said, “I don’t know if I’m any good at this.”
“This? You mean...us? Relationships?”
“No. This.” He fingered the soft fabric of his suit pants. “This whole Washington life. You were born to it. Raised with it. Hell, cut your mom open and she bleeds champagne.”
“Not that you want to cut my mom open.”
“No.” He thought about it. “Only occasionally.” He sighed. “Emily, your dad is the President. That’s about as high society as it gets. And me, I’m...me. I grew up barely getting by, spent as much time in Ireland as I did America.”
I finally realized where I’d seen that look before: in the eyes of a panther, prowling its cage at the National Zoo. My stomach lurched. Is that how he feels: trapped? Have I trapped him?
“But you were around DC for years before you met me,” I said. “All that time protecting VIPs. We were probably at the same parties.”
He turned and looked at me. “I was at the same parties,” he said. “But I wasn’t a guest.”
And suddenly I got it. My panther analogy was just perfect. People like me hired people like him because they were big and scary. We kept them on a leash, used them to protect us...but that wasn’t the same, for him, as sitting at the table.
He saw the realization in my eyes and nodded. Took my hand and gently squeezed it. “I can wear the clothes,” he said. “Learn what words to say. But I’m just acting. I come from a different world and I’m just a different kind of person. The military: I understood that. Protecting people: I understood that. But this, shaking hands and going to parties…that’s not me.”
“It’s not like that’s all we do!” My voice was fractured, one slip away from angry. But it wasn’t him I was mad at: he was being straight with me. It was me who’d put him in this situation. “I’m not my mom. I have my job!”
He stroked my hair, burying his fingers in it. “I know. And I’m proud of you. But that’s part of the problem: you have a job but since the coup I’ve just been freewheeling.” It was all coming out of him, now, everything he’d been keeping bottled up. “I mean, what the hell am I going to do in DC? I can’t go back to being a bodyguard. That’s way too blue collar for your mom.”
“Since when did you care what my mom thinks?”
“It’s too blue collar for your dad, too. And...for you.”
“No—”
“Emily, you’re kicking ass in your job. You’ll be running the place in a few years—”
“N—”
“I’m not going to drag you down!”
“Would you let me just speak?” I snapped.
He went quiet. I took a deep breath. “Do you remember when we first met? You were the one guy in a leather jacket, amongst all those suits. You were the guy who got kicked out of the Secret Service. You were the guy arguing with everyone. And I liked that guy. I fell for that guy. Hard.”
We just stared at each other for a second.
“You don’t have to try to be something you’re not,” I told him, laying one hand on a thigh that felt like rock. “If I’d wanted a senator, I’d have found a senator. I want you. I don’t care if you never come to another party. I don’t care if you never wear a suit again. All I care about is that you’re the sort of guy who climbs a tree to rescue me.”
He blinked, taken aback. God, this is what happens when you’re separated by an entire country: he’d forgotten just how much I loved him. “I don’t even have a feckin’ job—”
“You’ll find something! Something that suits you!”
He looked into my eyes and I saw him remember: not just how much we loved each other but how I’d match him every time, just as bull-headed as he was.
“Something that won’t embarrass you.” He was drawing a line in the sand.
“I wouldn’t be—” I saw how determined he was and sighed. “Okay, fine, something that won’t embarrass me.” I shook my head. “Why do you always try so hard to protect me?”
“It’s my job. Ma’am.” But he was grinning. I could see how much he’d relaxed in just a few minutes. Sure, he was still uncomfortable with the DC social scene but we could cut back on that. And deep down, I knew this hadn’t really been about that: this had been about us. About his concern that, if he wasn’t right for DC, maybe he wasn’t right for me.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” I told him. “You’re my rock. You’re the one person who can always make me feel safe.”
He cradled my face in his palm. “You’re the one person who can see inside my soul. You’re sweet and good and you make me want to be better. You have made me better.” He sighed. “Christ, I love you.” And he suddenly leaned forward and kissed me, slow and soft but oh, so intense, like he was doing it with every ounce of love. A delicious silver spark went right down my spine and detonated into warmth in my chest and I didn’t even realize I was tipping back on the branch, swooning, until his other hand caught me. He levered me gently back to safety. “I gotcha,” he whispered.
Both of us were grinning, now. Everything was going to be okay. I shook my head and then blew a lock of hair away from my face. “Besides, I’m from Texas. Do you think I feel right at a cocktail party?”
He rubbed at his jaw. There was some stubble there, for once, because he’d rushed straight out of bed to look for me, and it looked really good. “Hadn’t thought about it like that.”
We went silent, just enjoying sitting in the tree for a second. Kian looked down at this pants. “Y’know, Carrick thinks I’ve gone soft.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “You?”
“I’m not one thing or the other,” he said, exasperated. “It was simple, when I was a bodyguard. I don’t know what I’m meant to be, anymore.”
I looked at him seriously. “Maybe all you need to do,” I said softly, “is stop worrying about everybody else and ask yourself what you want for a change.”
He looked at me for so long that I flushed. “God, it scares me how much I need you,” he muttered. He took my chin between finger and thumb and just looked at me, drinking me in. “I forgot how smart you are.” Then he laughed and shook his head. “Jesus...you didn’t get stuck up here at all, did you? It was all a ploy just to get me up here and make me open up.”
I nodded quickly. “Yeah,” I lied. “You got me.”
He shook his head, leaned forward and kissed me. This time, it was gentle and teasing, as if we were meeting again for the very first time and we were both still teenagers. Our lips just brushed, that magical point where every tiny contact makes your body crackle and hum until you’re panting with it. Then we shuffled closer on the branch and it became deeper, hotter, his hands gliding up my sides, feeling my body through the oversize t-shirt, my fingers raking down his neck.
There was a giggle from beneath us. “Kian and Emily, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
We both laughed and looked down to see Louise standing below. She must have crept past us while we were occupied. “You okay getting down from there?” she asked.
I looked at Kian and nodded. “We’ll be just fine.”
Kian had told me about the huge, chaotic breakfasts with everyone gathered around the table. With the kitchen only half usable and the dining room out of action, it was even more crazy than usual but everyon
e helped. We ate on the lawn outside, taking turns to run back and forth with jugs of juice, trays of crispy bacon and platters of eggs. Kian wolfed down enough breakfast for three, which was a relief: I could tell he hadn’t been eating properly. I insisted on making some breakfast sandwiches for the Secret Service detail, who very much appreciated them.
It was the first chance I’d had to properly meet everyone: the intimidatingly fit but down-to-earth Sylvie and Aedan; Sean—who I’d met briefly in DC—and his warm, friendly girlfriend Louise; Kayley, who had about a million questions about life in the White House, and Annabelle and Carrick. Annabelle I took to immediately: she reminded me of the girls I’d known back in Texas, sweet and direct and refreshingly free from the bullshit and cattiness of DC. But Carrick I couldn’t figure out at all. I knew he was meant to be a serious badass, that he rode with a Motorcycle Club and that he’d done some pretty dark things for them. But he didn’t seem that way at all, at least not with me. He was polite and gentle and almost...shy. He kept going to curse and then catching himself. “What’s with your brother?” I asked Kian when I had him alone.
Kian grinned and looked me up and down.
“What?” I wasn’t wearing anything special, just a fresh suit jacket, blouse and skirt.
“Carrick’s never met a lady before,” said Kian.
I flushed. Me? A lady? But it was sort of sweet.
The best part about having all eight of us together was, we got to feel like a couple. Back in DC, we didn’t get to mix with other couples socially: every social occasion was some sort of networking or fundraising opportunity dreamt up by my mother. Sitting there chatting about how all of us met, talking TV and movies and books...it was idyllic. I loved it. And Kian was grinning, too: I suddenly realized how rough it must have been for him, these last few weeks, being the only single one. I slipped my arm around him and he did the same, pulling me into him possessively. I’m here now, I thought happily.
After breakfast, I broke out my laptop and went to work on the data Kian and his brothers had brought back from the printing works. As we expected, the company listed in the file was just a front. But between digging into Kerrigan’s data during the coup and my new job, I’d gotten pretty good at following the money. By noon, I’d traced it all back to an email address from a private server. Kian looked at it and nodded. “I know someone who might be able to pin that down,” he said. “I’ll give her a call.”
With nothing more we could do on the investigation until Mary, the mysterious hacker, called back, I spent a day with Kian just hanging around the house. We helped Sean measure up for replacement drywalls and furniture for the damaged rooms and I helped Kayley with her politics homework, but mostly we just sat in the long grass and watched the butterflies or swung on the swing, with occasional breaks to run upstairs to the four poster bed when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. It was like a mini-vacation, exactly what we needed after so long apart.
But all vacations have to come to an end.
Late in the afternoon, Mary called and Kian put her on speakerphone. “I got it,” she said victoriously. “But….”
“But what?” asked Carrick.
“I’ve got a rough location but I couldn’t get into the computer itself.”
We all looked at each other. “Okay,” said Kian. “That’s fine, as long as know where we’re going. You did great.”
“No,” said Mary. “You don’t understand: I couldn’t get into the computer.”
We looked at each other blankly.
“I can get into government databases,” Mary said. “But I can’t get into the PC of some cult leader? Doesn’t that seem weird to you?”
“Oh,” said Annabelle, catching on.
“The only place I’ve seen encryption like this is on the FBI’s servers,” said Mary. “And even that, I beat. This is some serious spy-level stuff. You guys are in over your heads.”
Kian sighed. “That much we know. Thanks for the warning.”
“Wait,” I said. “You hacked the FBI?”
“Who is that?” asked Mary. “I don’t recognize that voice. She’s not with the government, is she?”
“No,” said Kian before I could answer. “Not at all. Thanks, Mary.” And he ended the call. We looked at each other and I bit my lip. This was good news but I knew what it meant.
An hour later, I was standing beside one of the black Secret Service SUVs. “I’m leaving one car with you,” Miller told Kian, dropping the key into his hand. “Figured you could use something less distinctive than that Mustang. Try not to leave it in another city this time, huh?”
Kian pocketed the key and shook Miller’s hand, then pulled him into an embrace. “Thanks.”
Miller and the other agents withdrew to let Kian and I say goodbye. I tried to swallow the lump that was suddenly in my throat.
“This’ll all be over in a couple of days,” Kian said. “And then I’ll come back to DC. I just can’t have you anywhere near here while it all goes down.”
I nodded. Looked at the house, the swing, anywhere but his eyes. I understood and I knew he was right. But that didn’t stop it sucking and I didn’t want him to notice how much I was suddenly blinking. “Promise you’ll take care,” I said, my voice cracking a little.
He wrapped his arms around me, squeezed me tight and pressed his lips to the top of my head. “Promise.”
I cinched my arms so tight around his waist that it must have hurt, but he didn’t complain. Then I looked up, kissed him once, and quickly got into the SUV so he couldn’t see the tears in my eyes.
48
Carrick
I was sitting with my back against my bike. The air was cooling as the sun started to set but the engine was still warm and the heat was throbbing through my leather cut and into my back in a very relaxing way. I’d taken Annabelle out for a quick blast around town: back in Haywood Falls, it was our way of saying goodbye before I left on a ride with the club and it worked just as well here in LA. Riding with her pressed tight against my back, we were together in a way few people ever were. I felt the wind in my face and knew she felt the same wind, felt the thundering, growling bike beneath me and knew she could feel it, too. It was about sharing something we could carry with us until we saw each other again. Not many girls would understand that, but Annabelle did.
Kian sat down next to me, throwing his bag down beside him. I glanced at him and then did a double take. The suit was gone. He was in jeans and a leather jacket, the leather worn-in and battered. I suddenly realized he hadn’t shaved. And he looked a hell of a lot better than the night before: he looked rested and alert, not burned out and distracted. “What happened to you?” I asked.
“Emily,” he said simply.
I nodded. “You want to hold onto that one. She’s a classy lady.” I could feel my neck going hot: it wasn’t that I liked Emily in that way: aside from being with my brother, she wasn’t my type: give me Annabelle’s lush curves and copper hair any time. But whenever I was around her, I came over all tongue-tied, like I was in the presence of royalty. Thinking about it, she and Kian together made a weird sort of sense: he was the most respectable of any of us. But of course I didn’t tell him that. “Just don’t mess it up, you idiot,” I grunted.
He grinned, like he knew what I was thinking. “I’ll do my best.”
Sean sat down on the other side of me. “I’ve said goodbye to Louise,” he said. “But it feels wrong, leaving them. That bastard’s still out there, somewhere. That fire could have killed all of them: Kayley, too.”
I nodded and took out the photo that showed all of us with Bradan. “These are the people that have our brother,” I said, my voice tight. “We can’t leave him in there. This is the closest we’ve ever got: what if this lead goes cold? We might never get another chance.”
Sean let out an agonized groan. “I know. But the girls….”
Aedan sat down beside Sean. “Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I got it covered. Made a
call, after we got back from the printing works.” He nodded towards the street. A taxi was climbing the hill towards the house.
For a few seconds, we sat there in silence, watching the taxi approach. It was what I’d always wanted: all four of us together, a family once more.
I stared at the photo. Almost. We were so close. Please let us find him.
The taxi pulled up in front of the house. We all got up as Alec climbed out. Aedan embraced him. “Thanks for doing this,” he told him.
Alec slapped his back. “Anyone comes near this house, they’re going to regret it.”
We showed Alec inside, picked up our bags and climbed into the SUV. I still would have preferred to take my bike but we were a team on this one.
“Everyone said their goodbyes?” Kian asked, looking around. “Everyone got their bags? Anyone need to go pee-pee?”
When no one spoke up, he started the engine. We’d just started to move when Aedan suddenly said, “Wait!” threw open his door and ran for the house.
49
Sylvie
I was just coming down the stairs, having shown Alec where he’d be sleeping, when Aedan burst back into the house. He froze on the threshold and stared at me, eyes wild.
He’d never looked more gorgeous. He was wearing that same hooded top he had when I first met him but now the hood was down, exposing him. Those powerful shoulders almost filled the doorway, his broad chest rising and falling as he panted. His hands were curled into fists. He looked so brutally dangerous...and yet, in that second, he looked so vulnerable.
“Forget something?” I asked. I walked slowly down the last few stairs and he moved forward. We met under the tree.
He looked deep into my eyes and drew in a shuddering breath but didn’t speak.
“What is it?” I asked, worried.
He took my hands. “I meant to do this before you went into the cult,” he said. His voice was strained, like every rough-edged, silver-dusted boulder weighed a ton. “But then it went wrong and they got you and I thought I’d never see you again. I wanted to do it as soon as you got back but you weren’t yourself. I wanted to do it before we left for the printing works but I felt like I was jinxing everything, like I might not come back if I did it. And then when I came back I was a banged up mess—”
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