Possessing Liberty (Claimed 1)

"Um, tell me about this project," I murmur, my cheeks heating when I see the little hint of humor in his eyes like he knows exactly what I was thinking about, what I was imagining. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to keep from fidgeting beneath the weight of his stare.

He watches me for another moment, not speaking. "Need your help coding an application that'll match vets with services," he says then. The gravel-like quality of his voice should be a turn-off, but something about that deep, dark timbre sends a ripple of desire through me. "Lots of good men out there need help transitioning back to being a civilian."

He's not wrong about that. Men and women returning from overseas often find it hard to reacclimate to life as a civilian. My father was one of them. Eventually, he turned to alcohol and then to drugs. He lost custody of me, and then died not long later. I was seven when he passed away. I can't quite remember what it was like to have a parent, but I miss him in the way you miss an arm or a leg. It's a phantom pain, one that never really heals.

"It shouldn't be hard to adapt one of our existing apps to your needs," I murmur, already considering a few viable options. I wouldn't have to make many changes to the interface to get it up and running. "I'm assuming you've established partnerships with the agencies willing to take the referrals for service?"

"Not exactly," Dom says when Killian doesn't speak.

I turn toward my boss. "So the app would need to be easily updated when partnerships are established? That shouldn't be too hard. I've done it before, and I can provide training materials he can use to train his staff on how to add services to the database."

"You misunderstand, Ms. Connor," Killian interjects.

I shift my focus back to him.

"My program provides all services in-house."

"You provide everything?" I blink at him. "Housing? Vocational training? Therapists? Job referrals?"

He jerks his chin in a nod.

"I'm not sure I understand," I admit. Despite the fact that we're situated close to Camp Pendleton, I've never heard of an organization in the area that provides all essential services to vets in need, not including the VA, which is overburdened and underfunded. If his company plans to help fill the gap, he has my full support, but an endeavor like that would be a massive undertaking and take serious funding.

"Killian works with the military," Dom explains when Killian makes no attempt to do so. "He runs a…program"—he hesitates on the word like it's not quite the right one—"that provides reacclimation services to vets returning from overseas. They have on-site housing for up to two-hundred vets, as well as classrooms and medical facilities. They have a team of therapists, doctors, and teachers, as well as support staff in place. The app will simply help them determine what services vets require so they're prepared to meet their needs."

"Oh." I blink again, surprised. "And this is already in place?"

Killian gives another nod. He really doesn't say much.

"The app will streamline the process and ensure everything is set up and ready to go for their vets upon arrival at the facility," Dom continues for him. "The interface needs to be simple and secure, but effective."

"How are vets chosen?"

"Referral," Killian says.

"From whom?"

He eyes me, not speaking.

"That's the tricky part," Dom mutters for him. "We're not allowed to ask any questions about who the vets are or how they're referred to his program."

I frown, not sure I like the sound of that. It seems…exclusive almost. I spent my high school years in a boarding school where exclusivity was the name of the game. I don't regret it, but it wasn't easy to be one of a handful of scholarship students surrounded by the daughters of politicians and celebrities.

"We serve soldiers returning stateside from highly classified assignments," Killian states.

"That I can't know about," I say, understanding dawning. There is a measure of exclusivity, but for good reason. Even if he wanted to tell me about who they serve, he can't because their missions were classified.

He jerks his chin in yet another nod. I'm beginning to think this man communicates primarily through movements of his chin and the narrowing of his eyes. And yet, his presence in the room is almost overwhelming.

I tap my foot against the chair leg, thinking. Even though he makes me nervous, I want to help him. Not just because of my dad, but because of the people out there like him who need to help. I'm guessing those who worked in classified positions probably need it just as badly as anyone else coming home from combat.

"I'll pay you one hundred thousand dollars," Killian says abruptly.

"You mean you'll pay him a hundred thousand dollars," I say, pointing at Dom. He owns the company. I just work here.

The look on Dom's face gives me pause. "He's not here to hire the company," he says. "He's here to hire you."

"Me?" I open my mouth a couple of times, only to snap it closed again. "Why me?"

Neither of them says anything.

"Why me?" I ask again, staring at Killian.

"Why not you?" he says.

I narrow my eyes on him, not buying that non-answer for a minute. No one walks through the doors and demands me personally. And they definitely don't offer me six figures to work on a project for them. I'm good at what I do, but I'm not that good and I'm not that well known, especially with Silicon Valley just a day's drive from here.

"You did some work for my brother last year," Killian says when I say nothing.

"Sebastian," I say, immediately making the connection. Of course. How did I miss it? Sebastian told me he had a twin brother. They aren't identical, but they do look alike now that I'm thinking about it. They're both big and imposing, with stern features and intense eyes. Sebastian's are so dark they're almost black, though.

Killian's jaw clenches like he's irritated, though I don't understand why. Sebastian Thorne is…well, he's not really a friend because I don't have those. But he is someone I admire. His family—Killian's family, I guess—is ridiculously wealthy, and he did a lot for the community before moving to San Francisco a few months ago. I forgot he had a twin brother, though.

"I'll help you," I agree before I can stop myself.