by Tijan
but also hotels. I thought the Seton was the ritziest in the city, but I’d forgotten all about The Maston. If a hotel could be a six-star, this one would’ve been. It was exclusive. Even some celebrities couldn’t get rooms here.
The elevator door slid open and revealed a glass box. A pool glistened up to us from beneath, reflecting the light from the sky above us. As we traveled to the top floor, I noticed each floor had a different theme. The lobby was extravagant with fountains and gold lining everywhere. That was the only glimpse I got. Then, we were going past the second floor, which was blue. The third was red. The fourth was silver. The fifth…
I got dizzy from trying to take everything in, and I closed my eyes. When we stopped, there were three doors in a small hallway.
The far one opened.
Kian stood there. “Snark.”
Forgetting the impressive setting or how gorgeous Kian looked in a lightweight hoodie that molded to accentuate his broad shoulders and trim waist, I looked between the two as we went inside Kian’s penthouse suite. “You two know each other?”
Snark didn’t answer. He went into a living area, complete with two couches, a fireplace, a desk, an entire wall of books, and a wet bar at the other end.
Kian followed behind and took a small breath. His eyes narrowed, resting on Snark. “Only by reputation.”
Snark grunted, glaring right back. “His family asked enough higher-ups to figure out that I could have been one of the agents who had helped you disappear. But, no, we’ve never formally met.”
“Until today.” Kian hid a grin.
Snark’s lips pressed in a flat line and he acknowledged, with a clipped head nod. “Until today.”
“Okay.” A headache was pressing against my temples. “Kian, what are you still doing here?”
“I wanted to stick around.”
“Why?”
Snark grunted. “To be close by when his team threw you to the wolves.”
Kian’s eyes narrowed to slits. His face wore an unreadable mask, but I caught the dark heat stirring in his eyes. A shiver wound down my spine, but I wasn’t sure if it was the bad kind or not.
His voice was low and controlled. “They’re searching for Jordan, not Jo. They have no idea who she is now.”
“I got a phone call this morning from one of my supervisors.”
“You did?” My chest was so damn tight. “What did your supervisor want?”
“For me to give you up, but I don’t have to, and my supervisor knows that. I have no legal obligation to hand you over, and even if the police issue a warrant for your arrest—”
Kian cut in, “Which is highly unlikely. There’s nothing to incriminate Jordan for the angle they’re going toward.”
Snark kept talking as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “The FBI doesn’t have to help out the local police department, but having said that, you didn’t officially go into the Witness Protection Program.”
I was left hanging. “So? What does that mean? I know I’m not officially in the program, but you helped hide me anyway. What does that mean?”
Kian stepped toward me, turning to face me squarely. His back was now to Snark. “That means”—his soft voice turned my shiver to the bad kind, the really bad kind—“that they can find you.”
“Fuck that.” Snark came around. “They will find you. This one found you. I take it, the guy you used isn’t on your daddy’s payroll?”
Kian cast him a disdainful look. “No. I learned long ago to employ my own people and”—a glimmer of a smirk showed—“my people are better.”
“You haven’t given her up yet, or her new name would be plastered all over the news. Why not?”
“Because I don’t want that to happen.”
“So, this is okay? It’s your team who got the DA to go after her. It’s your team who spun everything around, and it was you who did that interview.”
That interview…Erica’s interview. I was still holding on to the paper. I looked down at it. What had Kian said in it? What had I avoided that I could’ve been prepared for by now?
Kian took the paper from me and threw it on the couch. He pointed at it, his jaw clenched tightly. “What I said signified nothing. They’re reaching for a crapshoot.”
“They have a witness. They’ve talked to someone who’s backing up the new investigation.”
“They have nothing. If they do, it’s someone from high school who has an agenda and wants to be famous. That’s it. The witness will be discredited. It’s only a matter of time before that happens, and, no, they won’t find Jo. I’ve made sure of that.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” A buzzing started between my ears. I shook my head, trying to clear it, but it only grew louder.
Snark ignored me, his voice rose. “Your team is behind this.”
“Not my team. I’ve instructed them to leave Jordan alone.”
“So, they did try to go after her?”
“They asked in the beginning, but I made it clear that I wouldn’t ruin Jordan’s life. This is my life. I killed Edmund, and she had nothing to do with it. If they’re going to try to blame her, they will fail.”
Snark started to argue, “An eyewitness—”
“Stop!” My hands clamped over my ears. That buzzing sound was too much. My headache was pulsating against my temples now. “Stop, you guys.”
Kian moved to me, taking one of my hands in his. He pulled me to him, wrapping his other arm around my back. He began rubbing at my temple, easing the headache away, and I should’ve pulled away. This was weird—or it should’ve been weird, but it wasn’t. That was the weird part of it. It felt so right to be in his arms, to have him pull me to his chest, to have him soothe out my pain. Like in the nightclub closet, I didn’t want to pull away. I wanted to burrow closer against him.
Kian is going to protect me. My insides were blaring this message to me. I wanted to believe it. I really did.
As if sensing my struggle, he held me tighter.
I relaxed into him, tuning out everything, as his hand continued to rub in a circle over my temple. Slowly, so slowly, the headache began to dissipate. My chest loosened, and I clung to his side as he talked to Snark.
His voice reverberated through him as my ear was pressed to his chest while he said, “I didn’t say anything in that interview to incriminate her. Trust me, no one knows she’s here. No one. Not my team, not my family. The only one who knows, besides those in this room, is my private investigator, and no one knows about him either.”
“Your father never got to him?”
For the first time since we’d arrived, Kian relaxed. He was amused. “My father is the last person who would help me.”
I frowned and pulled back. “What do you mean?”
He frowned back at me, rubbing my arm.
Snark distracted us. “If you’re saying the truth, why are you here?”
Kian glanced down at me. He looked torn.
I pulled all the way back, stepping away, so he couldn’t touch me. Folding my arms over my chest, I said, “Answer him, Kian.”
“Staying in this hotel wasn’t thought-out. I needed the best security, and my father’s hotel has it, but you’re right. I’ll check out and go somewhere else tonight.”
Snark pointed at me. “You need all the footage of her wiped from this place.”
“You came in the back way?”
“Like you instructed.”
So, they had talked, at least before we’d arrived today. I wanted to know what else had been spoken between them.
Kian raked a hand over his hair and moved to the phone. “The only footage would’ve been the back elevator and parking ramp. I’ll have my investigator sweep the footage. Any direct order from me will be suspicious. He’ll have to sneak in to do it.”
“Can he get it done?”
“He can.” Kian was grave as he dialed the front desk. “Yes, I’ll be checking out within the hour. I’ll need transportation arranged. No. I’ll instruct them
from the vehicle. Thank you.” He studied me. “You need a hat.”
He started to leave the room.
Snark stopped him. “No.” He shrugged off his jacket and gave it to me. “Put that on, and pull the hood up. When we leave, you keep your head down.”
I nodded. Fuck. The more we talked, the more this was getting really real.
The boulders were back in my stomach. Snark started for the door, and I followed, but Kian caught my arm. Before opening the door, Snark looked back and paused.
Kian asked him, “Mind if we have a moment?”
Snark’s eyes went flat, but he said, “Fine. One minute, and then she’s leaving with me.”
As soon as the door shut behind him, I whirled to Kian. “What did you say in that interview?”
He hesitated. “You haven’t read it, I take it?”
“No, I avoid everything with the news. Since you got released, that’s all I’ve been doing. I stick my head in the sand, and I walk.”
A flicker of a smile appeared, but it disappeared as he grabbed the paper and pushed it back into my hand. “Read it on the way to wherever you’re going with him. Call me, if you want.”
“Kian?”
“Read it. Then, call.” He paused and added, “If you want.”
“You’re acting weird. What could you have possibly said in there to get the DA to want to find me, to get Snark acting like a bee had stung him on the ass, and to have you acting almost…” Self-conscious. “Never mind.” I swallowed over a knot in my throat. “Read it. Got it. I’ll call.”
“Are you okay?”
“I have no idea how I am.” That was the truth, but I was mostly scared, terrified even. “I’ll be fine.”
“They don’t know where you are. And whatever they’re saying on the news isn’t true. No warrant has been issued for you. They just want to talk to you. That’s all. They want to ask questions, but if they can’t find you, they can’t ruin your life.” He visibly grimaced. “I’m sorry this is happening.”
Again.
He held that word back, but I knew what he meant. I heard it anyway. A media frenzy was coming my way. Whether I announced myself or not, they’d find me.
“They’re going to crucify me, aren’t they?”
He pulled me to him and held tight. “Not if I can help it.”
“Where will you go?” I asked after I pulled away and went for the door.
“I’m not sure yet. I would’ve gone to the Seton, but they know I did the interview there. Too much attention.”
I held the paper up. “Call after I read, right?”
“If you want.”
“Okay.” I waved with the paper in hand. “I suppose it’s see you later now? We’ve moved on to that.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I suppose so.” He paused, and then the other corner lifted, too. “It feels nice.”
A knot lodged in my throat again, and I couldn’t talk around it. As I pulled the door shut behind me, I knew I’d call, no matter what. I’d see him again.
That felt right, too.
Snark reached over me and yanked up the hood of his jacket. “Head down, and here we go.”
It was later, as Snark pulled up a block away from my apartment, that I thought to ask, “Why did you take me with you? Why did you go to see him?”
“Because I had to know.”
“Know what?”
He held my gaze steady. “If he was the one who had set you up.”
I swallowed tightly. “And?”
“I still have no idea.” He gave me a sad smile.
But that means…
“You think he’s pretending?”
“I don’t know what I think anymore. I really don’t.”
The right feeling I’d had with Kian was washed away with those few words. I was back to square one again. I still didn’t know if I could trust Kian or not. I crumpled the paper up in my hands. I needed to read it, I knew that, and I would, but damn, I just wanted to avoid it for now.
“I can’t hide from this, can I?”
“You can try. They might drop their angle, and your life might not be upended. That could happen, so chin up, kiddo.” He tapped under my jaw. “No one’s going to start looking at you like you’re Jordan Emory unless you wear a shirt that says you’re Jordan Emory.”
“Right. No T-shirts with my old name.”
“Damn straight.” He gestured to the sidewalk. “Now, get walking. I dropped you off, so you can walk in without my car being on any footage.”
“Thank you, Snark.”
“Ned.”
“What?”
“My real name is Ned.”
Ned. Ned Snark. I grinned at him. The name fit his old and cranky self.
“Thank you, Ned.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get going, you little hussy. And stay out of trouble. Oh…”
I paused, again.
He was serious. “I know you’re not asking, and I know my opinion might not hold any weight with you, but I’d pick the other guy.”
Jake. Not Kian.
I knew whom he meant, but I didn’t reply as I got out and shut the door. When I walked through my apartment door a few minutes later, Jake stood up from my couch.
I stopped, surprised.
He was in my apartment, waiting for me, with a grave expression on his face.
Then, he said two words, “Jordan Emory.”
Oh, fucking hell.
Kian’s voice came from the television screen before I could say anything. “People want me to blame Jordan, but I never will.”
What the…
Jake flashed me a grin and sat on the couch. Erica was on the coffee table. Her leg was resting on her knee, and she was holding a notepad, hunched over it.
Jake said again, “Jordan Emory. That’s her name?”
“Yeah.” Erica was writing something on the paper.
Kian’s voice continued from the television, “She had no part in it. People are fixated with what I look like, my last name, who my father is, and my promising future, my supposed promising future. But those people are wrong. They’re forgetting one small detail. Jordan.”
“What are you watching?” My breath was stuffed in my throat.
Erica grabbed the remote and hit the pause button. “I’m going over the interview before we send it off.”
“Going over it?” I swallowed painfully, edging closer to them.
“We sold it. I’m just doing the final edits for another piece I’m going to write up myself. I’m going to a different paper with it.”
“Can you do that? Won’t Susan get mad?”
Erica shrugged. Her eyebrows locked forward, and her chin hardened. “I don’t care. His team requested me, not her. This story is just as much mine as hers, and I can write my own spin on the whole thing.” She pressed Play.
