The Rebel King (All the King's Men Duet #2) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,48
a quick, searching glance from the road to my face.
“You won’t lose me because you love your father.”
“The problems with my dad pre-date you, and are too complex for an easy fix.” He releases a long sigh. “Or we wouldn’t still be on the outs fifteen years later.”
“Tell me about him,” I say, keeping my face clear of disgust or disdain. “About the parts of him you love.”
He nods after a few moments, eyes fixed ahead on the road. “I was his shadow growing up. I know it sounds ridiculous because I was a kid, but I believed we were best friends. We did everything together.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Fly fishing, horse riding. He’d take me to the office with him. He taught me to shoot.”
“So I guess, in a roundabout way, I have him to thank for my rescue,” I say wryly. “I was pretty shocked to even see you with a gun, much less able to shoot someone from that distance.”
“Yeah, my dad used to joke that I could shoot the wings off a flea. I’m not anti-guns. I know that probably breaks your little liberal heart.”
“I don’t need you to be anti-guns. I need you to be pro-smart gun laws, and I know you are that.”
“Definitely that. I don’t esteem my right to bear arms over another person’s right to live and not get shot by some idiot with weapons that belong on a battlefield, not in the hands of a civilian.”
“See? We agree, and my liberal heart is safe.”
“Your liberal heart is mine,” he says, tightening his hand around mine. “Does it bother you that I’m possessive and intrusive and protective?”
“Let’s just say I like your growl best in bed.”
He drops his head back into the supple leather of the seat and chuckles. In the silence that follows, I wonder if I should ask him something that’s bothered me since Costa Rica. “Doc, the man you shot . . .”
“Jackson Keene,” he inserts, his voice hardening, his jaw tightening.
“You know his real name?”
“I planned to discuss what Grim has found today while we had some time together, but yeah. And ‘Abe’ is his brother, Gregory Keene.”
An icy finger traces my spine when I hear the name of the man who almost killed me more than once. “But he’s dead, too, right?” I demand, my voice going a little higher. “They’re both dead.”
“Grim thinks so, yeah.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“I want to see it. I want to see Gregory’s body in a morgue the way I’ve seen his brother’s.”
“Had you ever shot anyone, killed anyone before?”
“Never. Not until then.”
“And have you been . . . well, are you okay? How have you been processing it? I should have asked when we first got back, but my head was all over the place. In some ways, I feel like it’s just starting to clear.”
“I’m not sad or conflicted about shooting Jackson Keene. Gregory held a gun to your head. He almost dropped you off a cliff. If, by chance, he did survive four bullets and didn’t drown in that river, God help him if we ever meet again, because I will kill him, too.”
A balloon of fear swells around my heart, popping, leaking into my belly.
“Pull over,” I say, sudden anxiety making the words breathy.
“What?” He lobs a confused look over at me.
“Pull the fuck over, Maxim.”
With a frown, he eases the car onto the shoulder of the road. His legs are so long, his seat is already back to its limit. I undo my seatbelt and maneuver over to the driver’s seat, straddling him. I settle my knees on either side of his thighs, slotting myself between his big body and the steering wheel. Taking his face between my hands, I trace the rise of his cheekbones with my thumbs, catch his stare and don’t let go.
“I don’t want you to see him. I don’t want him anywhere near you.” My breath gets choppy at the thought of Maxim facing that maniac again. “I just want him to leave us alone. I just want you . . .” I bury my face in his neck, wrap my arms around him. “Leave him alone, Maxim. If he’s alive and not bothering us, just leave him alone.”
He pulls back and frames my face between big, gentle hands. “If he’s alive, and that’s an unlikely if, there’s always the chance that he will bother us,” Maxim says, his voice like granite. “And I’ll be damned if anyone will bother you again. I’ll