Page 167 of Somebody's Watching Me
“Why in the hell would you think you can do that?”
He wasn’t thinking clearly, and she gave him a minute to get his emotions in check. “How many countless fake interviews did we do together? When you were stuck on how to question a subject, how many times did you use me to work it through?”
Liam rolled off to sit next to her. “It’s more than that.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Resting his elbows on his knees, he stared at the floor. “You’re lying to me, Jamison. And if you don’t start talking—”
“You’ll what?”
It was always best to go on an aggressive defense. He hated to see her upset or angry. At least, once upon a time, he hated it. She was hedging her bets to see if the pattern still held.
“What exactly are you accusing me of, Liam?”
“Michael Sinclair joined Zanmi seven months ago.”
“So?”
“You left me one month later.”
“Again, so?”
“Why? Say it out loud. I want to hear it.” His head tilted, dark eyes assessing for any hint of emotion. “I want to hear the words come out of your mouth.”
She cleared her throat, ready to face this head on. “Because I wanted a family, and you didn’t.”
“We’re still going with that lie?”
This was almost laughable. She loved him, but his stubbornness rivaled her own. “It’s not a lie, and I am in no way involved with Michael Sinclair.”
“Someone in the Fairweather family is involved. The access overrides that were needed to knock out Rowan’s failsafe programming on the night of the kidnapping can only occur with high clearance, and there are an extremely limited number of people on that list.”
“Oh my God, that’s all you have? You’re accusing me of knowing Michael because someone is using high-level access codes?”
“He’s using your access codes.”
It was a shock, but she didn’t exactly have the hardest codes to figure out. Anyone who knew her would be able to guess. Liam’s birth date. Month and day. Forward or reverse, depending on how many variationswere needed. The four digits had been her company pin since she started.
“No one in your immediate family thinks you have any intentional involvement.”
She wasn’t here. This wasn’t happening. She refused to believe any of them thought she was responsible for all this. “Intentional involvement?”
He stood and placed some distance between them. “When was the first time you met Michael Sinclair?”
This wasn’t just the bad cop routine returning. This was worse. This was him. Angry. Hurt. Ready to let the emotions he’d carefully bottled up this entire time loose.
“When he tried to kidnap me.”
Shoving his hand in his pockets, he repeated the question. “When was the first time you met Michael Sinclair?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Stay focused.”
“Don’t you dare lecture me on staying focused.” She popped up from the couch. “I have no idea what to stay focused on.”
“Children.” He exhaled the word. “The perfect family narrative has nothing to do with building couples and relationships so Zanmi can gain more followers. It’s a breeding plan.”
