Page 11 of Wired (Buchanan-Renard 13)

  Suzanne paused again, and this time when she continued she sounded very sad. “One day your mother called and said she wanted to ask me something very important. She said she and your dad were making out a will and wondered if Peter and I would be your legal guardians, should anything ever happen to them. Of course we said yes, we’d be honored. But you really never expect anything like that to happen.” Her voice cracked from the emotion she was trying to hold in. “And only a couple of days later, we got the news.”

  Allison could hear the tears choking her words when she said, “I couldn’t go to the funeral. I was nine months pregnant with our second child, and the doctor said I couldn’t travel. I wanted to be there, but I couldn’t.

  “You and Charlotte lived at home for a while, and a couple of neighbors stayed with you. Just as soon as we could, we came to Boston, but by then your aunt and uncle had petitioned the court for custody. Unfortunately, we had no legal standing because your mother and father’s will was never finalized. We fought to take you, but there was nothing we could do. Your aunt and uncle were your closest relatives. They put up a really strong fight, and they won . . . despite your parents’ wishes.”

  Allison was stunned. “My aunt and uncle never told us any of this,” she said.

  “No, I wouldn’t expect them to. When we told them we wanted to remain in your lives, they were outraged. There was quite a battle between us. They said that we would only make the transition more difficult . . . that it was best for you if we let you settle into your new home without interference. I disagreed at first, but then they said if we called or wrote to you, they’d block us. I certainly didn’t want to cause you more distress. You’d been through so much. I hope we did the right thing.”

  Allison was speechless for a moment, and then lied. “Yes, you did the right thing.”

  “You were still so young, but I guess I hoped Charlotte might remember us at least. Of course we tried to keep you both out of the conflict and she hadn’t really spent much time with us. I understand if she has no recollection.”

  “She never mentioned you. I’m sorry.”

  “Many times I’ve thought of trying to find you, just to see how you’re doing, but then I worried that I’d be stirring up bad memories.”

  Allison spent the next few minutes assuring her that she and Charlotte were healthy and happy, purposely avoiding any mention of their aunt and uncle.

  Just before she ended the call, Suzanne said, “I want you to know how much we loved your mother and father, and how much we wanted you.”

  Allison laid the phone down and sat on her bed, rigid with anger. She couldn’t scream for fear of alarming anyone who would hear—but oh, how she wanted to. She knew her aunt and uncle were selfish, angry people, but how could they have been so cruel? She remembered being afraid when she was a little girl. If she didn’t behave . . . if she was too loud . . . or if she cried . . . there was always the possibility in her mind that she would be separated from her sister. And all that time there was a loving family who would have taken them.

  She was about to explode from the fury building inside her. She couldn’t sit still. She stood and paced around her room, hearing Suzanne’s words echoing in her head: “. . . we wanted you.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek and then another. All the years of hurt suddenly erupted, and she fell onto her bed, sobbing uncontrollably. She didn’t know how long she’d cried, but she stopped when she heard voices below. Her roommates and their friends were gathering downstairs. She couldn’t stay there. She had to get away. Wiping the tears from her face, she went to her closet for her overnight bag and threw a few things in it. She’d drive to Jordan’s house and spend the night.

  When she came down the stairs, a group was standing in the kitchen talking. Dan peered around the corner. “Hi, Al.”

  She didn’t look at him. If she did, she knew he’d see her swollen, tearstained face. Instead she kept her head down and called, “I’m sleeping at Jordan’s. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She opened the front door and came to an abrupt halt. Liam was standing there.

  One look at her and he could tell something had happened. He pulled the door wider and said, “Let’s go.” Grabbing her bag, he took her hand and pulled her along.

  “How did you know?” She whispered the question and really didn’t expect an answer.

  “Know what?” he asked, glancing down at her.

  That I was in trouble, she thought but didn’t say. She shook her head, then said, “That I would be home.”

  “I didn’t.” He opened his car door for her, then put her bag in the trunk before getting behind the wheel. “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Just away from here. I don’t have a destination in mind.”

  Liam pulled into the street and was turning the corner when Allison spotted her aunt’s car speeding toward them. Allison was certain her aunt hadn’t seen her. She quickly dug her phone out of her purse and called Dan to warn him.

  “Don’t let her come inside,” she said. “Just tell her I’m out of town for the weekend. And please don’t be polite.” She looked over her shoulder in time to see her aunt’s car come to a screeching halt in front of her house.

  “What was that all about?” Liam asked.

  “I don’t want to go into it now.”

  “But you will tell me.”

  He wasn’t asking a question; he was stating a fact, and she knew eventually he would coax it out of her.

  “Maybe,” she said. She dropped her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She had no idea where they were going, and she felt too weary to care.

  He drove to a restaurant on the water called Jim’s Shack. “Have you ever eaten here?” he asked as he parked the car.

  “No,” she answered.

  The exterior of the building looked as though it should have been condemned years ago. The wood was weathered and splintered, but inside it looked brand-new. Bright lights on the pier reflected off the water and gave the dining area a glow. The bar wound halfway around the restaurant. It was crowded, but they didn’t have to wait for a table. Turned out, Liam knew the owner, Jim, who personally escorted them to a little alcove overlooking the water.

  Allison stared out at the serene view of the gentle waves lapping against the pier, and the tension that had coiled inside her began to unwind. A waiter took their drink orders, and as soon as he left, Allison said, “How do you know the owner?”

  Liam shrugged. “Who didn’t you want Dan to be polite to?”

  Two could play this game, she decided, so she shrugged in answer and smiled at him.

  Recognizing her stall tactics, he laughed before answering, “I know the owner of this establishment because I came here with Alec last year, and as it turned out, Alec went to school with him, so, of course, they had to catch up. Jim sat and drank with us. Okay, now it’s your turn.”

  “My aunt. I had an argument with my aunt and uncle today” was all she said.

  “These are the people who raised you?”

  “No, my sister, Charlotte, raised me. She took care of me and protected me from them.”

  She gazed out the window again while she gathered her thoughts. She suddenly had this bizarre desire to pour her heart out to him, yet at the same time she didn’t want him to know how screwed-up her life had been . . . and how pathetic. His opinion of her mattered, and for the life of her she couldn’t understand why. On the other hand, he already knew she was a criminal—she’d admitted breaking the law countless times—what difference did it make if he also knew about her personal problems?

  Liam waited for her to explain further. When she remained silent, he sat back and watched her. He was trying to figure out why he was so drawn to her. Yes, she was incredibly sexy and attractive. Yeah, right. Attractive? She was a sight more than simply attractive. She was stunning. Every man??

?s head had turned as she walked to their table. She didn’t notice. He sure as certain did. He’d dated a lot of beautiful women, but to him there was something special about Allison, and it had nothing to do with her looks. He liked the fact that she was so damn smart. He didn’t like seeing her so vulnerable, though. The overwhelming urge to protect her returned. That wasn’t unusual, was it? He was an FBI agent, and wasn’t it his job to protect and serve? Damn right it was.

  Where did wanting to take her to bed fall under his job description? He really needed to get it together and stop thinking about how good it would be with her. But first, he was going to have to stop staring at her mouth.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

  He wondered how she would react if he told her the truth. “Why do you ask?”

  “You looked so intense. Not so much now, though.”

  Jim stopped by to say hello again and to find out what they wanted for dinner.

  “We’re really slammed tonight,” he remarked in his thick Boston accent as he pulled out a chair and sat, never taking his eyes off Allison. He reminded her of an old sea captain. There were deep lines in his face from exposure to sun and wind.

  Liam made the introductions. Allison smiled and said hello, but Jim appeared to be tongue-tied. He finally found his voice and said hello to her. Then he turned to Liam and said, “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

  “Yes,” Liam agreed, then changed the subject. “What’s on the menu tonight?”

  “You’ll want the chowder.”

  Allison didn’t have much of an appetite, and she would have been fine with a couple of crackers, but she followed Jim’s recommendation. As soon as she tasted the chowder, her appetite came back. It was absolutely delicious. She ate every bit of it, and when she was finished, she sipped hot tea while she watched Liam devour a second bowl of chowder. She had never met anyone like him before, and she’d certainly never been this attracted to any other man. She was beginning to feel she didn’t have to be on her guard every second.

  Though she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking of how it would feel if he kissed her. She’d probably melt in his arms. The crazy idea made her smile. She was letting her imagination get out of hand, she decided. So, to take her mind off her silly fantasy, she turned her thoughts back to the serious issues in her life, not the least of which was the fact that she and her sister had been lied to for years.

  As though reading her mind, Liam broke into her thoughts. “What happened today?”

  His question caught her by surprise. “Why do you think something happened?” she asked.

  “The look on your face when you opened the door. You were upset. You said you’d had an argument with your aunt and uncle.”

  “It was a bad day. That’s all.”

  “Tell me,” he said. He started to add, “You’ll feel better,” but caught himself in time. He had the feeling she’d get her back up. Or bolt. She was already sitting on the edge of her chair.

  “Do you have any idea how bossy you are?”

  “Yes, I do,” he answered with a smile.

  The dimple in his cheek was messing with her concentration. She wondered how he would react if she jumped across the table and kissed him. Probably put her in handcuffs and take her to the nearest mental ward.

  “It’s always stressful whenever I have to go back to Emerson,” she told him, her voice hesitant.

  “I would imagine so.”

  Just how much had he dug up researching her background? He sounded so understanding. Maybe it was his sympathetic tone or the tenderness she saw in his eyes that made her want to tell him everything. She paused for a second and then did exactly that. She didn’t embellish; she simply explained what life had been like living with her relatives and how she had finally broken ties with them.

  Her voice shook when she mentioned the life insurance policy. “Thinking about it makes me so angry.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “What do you do when you’re angry and frustrated?”

  “I like to hit.”

  “Hit?”

  He nodded. “When I need to get rid of the anger, I look for a rugby game. It can get pretty brutal, which I love. I played a lot of rugby growing up, but if I can’t find a game, I go to the nearest batting cages and hit baseballs until I wind down. Frustration is another matter.”

  “Oh? How do you get rid of frustration?”

  The dimple was back. “Sex.” He saw the instant blush and had to laugh again. “What do you do when you’re frustrated?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that when her frustration grew, she wrote code. No, she couldn’t tell him that because it was such a nerdy thing to admit.

  “Same thing,” she said with a straight face. She lowered her eyes and asked, “Tell me, Liam, are you frustrated now?”

  He stared at her a long minute before answering, “You’re playing with fire. It doesn’t matter how frustrated I am. This is work and you’re an asset. I don’t have sex with assets.”

  She could feel her cheeks burning. Flirting wasn’t her forte, and she should never have tried being coy. “I was not asking you to have sex.”

  Too late she realized she should have kept her voice low. Half the restaurant had heard her. A rather good-looking man wearing a Celtics T-shirt at the end of the bar yelled, “I’ll have sex with you, honey, anytime, anyplace.”

  She buried her face in her hands. “Oh God,” she groaned.

  A second man at the bar, pointing to the two on either side of him, chimed in, “Forget these guys. They’re amateurs. I’m the man you want, sweet cheeks.”

  When she raised her head and glanced around the room, a dozen people were looking at her and laughing. She was mortified.

  Liam took mercy on her. “Want to change the subject?” he asked.

  She blocked out the faces that were staring at her and straightened in her chair, focusing on Liam. “Do you like basketball?” she blurted. “I do. I love the Celtics, and if I were going to stay in Boston, I would get on the list for season tickets. Good ones are hard to come by,” she rattled on. “And baseball. I love baseball, too. I go to a lot of the Red Sox home games.” She stopped because she had to take a breath.

  “I’ll have to take you to the batting cages one of these days,” Liam remarked. He was trying not to laugh at her, because she was so uncomfortable. Her face was still red. Such an innocent, he thought. There wasn’t anything phony or pretentious about her. Yet another reason he was drawn to her. She definitely was unusual compared to the other women he’d known.

  But she was an asset and off-limits, he reminded himself once again.

  She was finally getting past her embarrassment. “I can go to the batting cages by myself. Besides, you won’t be in town long enough to take me. Remember? After I do that little favor for you, you’re out of here. Isn’t that right?”

  He didn’t like being reminded that he would be leaving. “Right,” he said, his voice clipped.

  She suddenly remembered a question she wanted to ask. “Why did you come to my house tonight?”

  “I tried to call you, and your number was disconnected. I came to find out what was going on.”

  “When you saw me leaving with my bag, did you think I was trying to escape?”

  “Trust me, Allison. There’s no place you could go that I wouldn’t find you,” he said with a confident smile.

  “I was going to Jordan’s house. I just needed to get away,” she said. “I changed my phone number because of my aunt. On the way back from Emerson, she called at least twenty-five times. I’m not exaggerating,” she insisted. “I knew she wouldn’t stop harassing me, so I changed my number. I’m only giving it to a few trusted friends, and you, of course,” she added hastily. “I’ll give you my new number now if you’d like.”

  “I already have it.”

Surprised, she said, “You what? You have it? I only just changed it.” She shook her head. “If you want something you just . . . get it?”

  “Pretty much.” The waiter appeared with the tab, and after paying, Liam stood. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes,” she answered, and even though there had been awkward, even embarrassing moments, she hated to see her evening with Liam end.

  As they crossed the restaurant, he put his arm around her and pulled her into his side.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Protecting my asset.”

  The two men who had shouted at her were whistling, but she ignored them and stared straight ahead.

  Once they were in the car, Liam asked, “Do you want me to take you home or drop you at Jordan’s?”

  “Home,” she answered. “I’ve decided I need a little time alone to think about the documents my cousin, Will, gave me today, and speaking of Will . . .”

  He glanced over at her. “Yes?”

  “I have a favor to ask.” She paused, wondering how she should bring up the subject of her irresponsible cousin. After weighing her choices for a few seconds, she decided the direct approach was best. “I’m hoping you can help him stay out of prison. I want him to have one last chance.” When he turned to her, she saw the incredulous look on his face.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, I’m serious. If you can, I’d like you to help him. Why do you look so surprised?”

  “I’ve read his file,” he said, his tone hard. “There’s no way I’m going to help him. He’s had too many chances to change his life.”

  She didn’t say another word. She wanted to let him think it through, and hopefully he would change his mind. She knew he would eventually ask her why she wanted to help Will, and it was going to be difficult to explain. Did admitting that she felt sorry for him make her a complete fool? His growing-up years had surely been as traumatic as hers, just in a different way. Having such controlling and smothering parents who had watched his every move was much worse than being ignored.