Kim stood still under his touch, her heart constricting. She’d broken up with men before, had sometimes done the breaking herself. She recognized Liam’s look, the implacable expression of someone who’d made the painful decision to walk away and wouldn’t be talked out of it.
“I don’t want to go,” she said. Kim knew how pathetic she sounded, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“It makes me glad that you don’t want to.” Liam touched her lip once more, then took up his shirt and boots from the floor. “But it’s all the more reason you need to.”
He gave her another long look, as though he were memorizing her, then turned and walked out. He shut the door behind him, and a few minutes later, the front door’s banging shook the house. Kim heard his motorcycle rev, heard its throb as he drove off down the street, the noise dying into the distance.
Kim stood by the bed for a long time, staring at the closed door. Tears choked her throat, but her burning eyes wouldn’t shed any.
She heard the others downstairs, talking, their voices inquiring. Wondering where Liam was off to? Or had he told them he was sending Kim home?
Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to get out of there. Kim dressed with numb fingers, packed what things she’d brought here, and carried them down to her Mustang.
The last thing she saw as she backed out of the Morrissey driveway was Connor standing under the glow of the front porch light, his arms folded, a look of vast sadness on his face.
Kim arrived at her office early the next morning, dressed in a conservative gray suit.
“No Shifters today?” her secretary asked innocently.
“No, Jeanne.” Kim’s voice had gone cold and hard, the take-no-shit defense lawyer returning. “No more Shifters in the office. Sorry.”
Jeanne, used to years of Kim’s ups and downs, smiled at her. “Too bad. He sure was hot.”
Kim had to admit that yes, he sure was. Her gut was so churned up that she didn’t know what she was feeling. Loss, pain, sorrow, anger. Liam had thrown her out. That hurt. But hadn’t Kim told Liam repeatedly that she couldn’t stay? She wasn’t certain who provoked the most anger, herself or Liam.
Once at her desk, Kim immediately dove into Brian’s case. Arguing with the prosecutor’s office helped keep her thoughts from Liam—from the traumatic fight in the warehouse, from the amazing sex afterward.
She worked all day, her businesslike suit and panty hose more confining by the hour. She’d gotten used to loose skirts and sandals far too quickly.
The next day wasn’t any better, though the monotony was interrupted by a call from Silas.
“I talked to Liam,” Silas told her. “He’s agreed to let me interview him for the documentary, and for the feature stories for the newspaper. He’s going to show me around Shiftertown himself.”
“That’s great.” It really was great. Trust Liam to begin his rule of Shiftertown by doing what Fergus would have loathed. But Liam wanted the world to stop fearing Shifters, to move toward freedom. Showing the world what Shifters truly were was a first step.
A few weeks later, Kim’s hard work and persistence finally paid off. With her tip on the jealous ex-boyfriend angle, her investigator had found out Michelle’s ex had been boasting that he’d brought the Shifters to their knees and about his obsessive behavior toward Michelle before her death. He’d started calling her “the f**king Shifter-whore who’d got what she deserved.” That was enough for police to reopen the case and bring the guy in again for further questioning. He’d been reluctant to talk about Michelle at all, until the detective revealed evidence of photos on the young man’s digital camera of Michelle lying strangled on the floor. A vitriolic confession came pouring out. Michelle had betrayed him—with a Shifter. Michelle should die, and the Shifter should be ripped apart. If there were any justice in the world, he’d be given a medal for ridding the world of filth.
After that, it wasn’t too difficult for Kim to get the prosecutors to dismiss the case against Brian, who was released to a surge of publicity. Kim walked with him, under the scrutiny of black camera lenses the day he was freed, to where Sandra waited in her old car. Mother and son had a tearful reunion, but Kim could see Brian’s grief over Michelle. Sandra had confirmed that Brian had been prepared to take Michelle as his mate, and her loss was hard for him. He’d truly loved her.
After seeing Brian off, Kim returned to her office and went to see her boss.
The head of the firm was a large man with graying hair and pictures of his wife and four children on his desk. “Good work, Kim,” he said, a man who rarely praised. “But I doubt we’ll be getting any more Shifter cases. People wanted Shifter blood, and we just made the prosecutor’s office look stupid.”
Kim shrugged, not caring about the damned prosecutor’s office right now. “It doesn’t matter. I came to tender my resignation.”
“What?” His thick brows shot up. “Why? You’ve just won the biggest case of the year.”
“I’m contemplating a business venture of my own. Human advocate and legal liaison to Shifters in the Austin–San Antonio area. Want in?”
Her boss sat there with his mouth open, then moved his nameplate from one side of his desk to the other, which he did when he got nervous. “Are you crazy, Kim? You’re a good attorney. One of my best. You’re on your way to a terrific career. You throw in with Shifters and you’ll be finished.”
“Shifter-human law needs to be reevaluated and changed,” Kim said. “It will be a challenge, something to live for. You could make your mark as a champion of Shifter rights. You love defending people’s rights.”
He glanced at the photos on his desk. “But Shifter-haters can be dangerous, and I wouldn’t be risking just myself.”
Kim nodded, understanding. “Well, I don’t have anyone but myself to risk. I’m tired of living an empty life, so I’m going to fill it doing something crazy like helping Shifters wade through the morass of law. Jeanne’s agreed to go with me. She’s training as a paralegal, and she’s excited about getting a chance for more experience.”
“She’s as crazy as you are.”
“Maybe,” Kim conceded. “But that’s what we want to do. Thanks for taking me on when I was a green law-school graduate.”
“No problem,” her boss said faintly. “Good luck.”