Blank Slate (29 page)

The
look he gave her made the blood heat in her veins. Hoo boy. Clarissa grabbed
his glass of cold whiskey and took a gulp. When she placed it back on the
table, Langston picked it up. Never taking his gaze from hers, he turned the
glass and took a drink, careful to place his lips where hers had been.

It
was hard to breathe in here, Clarissa decided.

“What
do you want?” she asked. Might as well get this show on the
road.

He
cleared his throat and looked down at the table before answering. “You know
Solomon is still after you,” he said, glancing up.

Clarissa
shrugged. “You here to make a peace offering?”

Langston
shook his head. “I don’t work for him. He’s my father, but one of these days,
I’ll have enough evidence to arrest and convict him.” He paused. “I’m just here
to warn you.”

“I’ll
consider myself warned then.” Clarissa stood to leave, but was stopped by
Langston’s hand closing on her arm. In one quick movement, he pulled her down
onto his lap.

“Leaving
so soon?” he asked. “What’s the matter, O’Connell? Afraid you won’t be able to
control yourself around me?”

His
teasing smirk made her lips twitch in amusement despite her resolve to remain
detached. Langston’s arms lightly imprisoned her, which should have pissed her
off, but all she could think about was how good it was to be with him again.

“Is
this any way for a Boy Scout to behave?” Clarissa said archly. “Manhandling me?
I thought you were a gentleman.”

“I’m
not feeling much like a gentleman at the moment.”

The
low rasp of his voice sent a shiver through her. Then his hand curled
possessively around the back of her neck and he was kissing her.

The
weeks they’d spent apart faded away, along with the loneliness and persistent
knot in the pit of her stomach. Clarissa kissed Langston back just as
desperately, burying her fingers in his hair and pressing as close to him as she could possibly get while still clothed.

Langston
tasted of whiskey and his own unique flavor and she couldn’t get enough. The
scent of his cologne brought back memories of their time together, and it felt
like she’d finally found home.

What
was she going to do with him? Well, she knew what she wanted to do right
now
, but what about later? Trust had
never come easy to Clarissa, but was she going to throw away the best thing
that had ever happened to her because she was too afraid to trust him?

It
was time to take a leap of faith. If she didn’t, Clarissa knew she’d regret it
the rest of her life.

“Hey!
I don’t pay you to make out with the customers!”

The
irritated voice came from behind her, and she didn’t think Langston even heard.
Or if he did, he certainly didn’t seem to care. She pulled back but his mouth
just moved to her neck. Clarissa glanced around and saw the bar’s manager
watching them, a livid expression on his face.

“Actually,”
she said, “you don’t pay me at all.”

Clarissa
stood and took Langston’s hand. “Let’s go,” she said, bypassing the manager and
hustling down the stairs. A few moments later, they were climbing into the back
of a cab. Clarissa barely had enough time to give the driver her address before
Langston was all over her.

“God,
I’ve missed you,” he breathed against her lips.

Something
warm expanded inside Clarissa’s chest, melting the ice that had carefully
guarded her heart. It didn’t matter now if she was wrong about Langston; she
loved him.

The
ride to her apartment was mercifully short, though she thought they’d probably
given the taxi driver quite a show. Alone in the elevator, it took only seconds
for Langston to have her against the wall, tear several buttons off her shirt,
and get his hand inside her shorts and between her legs. Clarissa’s hands
clutched his shoulders, and she moaned into his mouth as her blood thundered in
her ears.

His
tongue stroked hers to the same rhythm as his fingers. First one, then two
thrusting inside her, faster and harder, pressing against her until her body
shattered in a mind-blowing climax that Langston hadn’t even needed the full
eight-floor ride to achieve.

“I
want you,” he growled in her ear, the heat of his breath sending a tremor
through her.

“Yeah,
I get that,” she said, her voice too breathy.

The
elevator doors opened and thank God no one was around this late at night, for
it took a few seconds for Clarissa’s legs to work properly again.

She
led him down the hall to her apartment, having problems unlocking the door with
him against her, his erection pressing into her backside while he dragged off
her wig and started sucking the back of her neck. His hands slid under her
shirt to cup her breasts, and Clarissa forgot what she was doing.

Suddenly,
the door was yanked open, startling her. It must have startled Langston too,
because he yanked her back to his side. Then she saw who it was.

“Danny,”
she said nervously. “I thought you were out tonight.” He’d told her he was
going to Atlantic City with some buddies for the weekend.

Danny’s
eyes narrowed at her as he took in Langston standing behind her. “Changed me mind,” he finally said. “Dinna realize you were havin’ comp’ny tonight, Rissa.”

He
turned away from the door, and Clarissa breathed a silent sigh of relief. Danny
hadn’t recognized Langston in the dim hallway, plus she could tell from his
bleary eyes and pronounced accent that he’d been drinking.

Clarissa
turned around. “I didn’t know he’d be here,” she said in a low voice. “Let’s go
somewhere else, okay? There’s a hotel on the next block.”

But
Langston looked much different now as he stood there, his expression cold and
hard as he stared after Danny.

“So
you’re still with your brother,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

Clarissa
shrugged, the tone in Langston’s voice sounding
warning bells inside her head.

“I
don’t suppose he’s told you the truth about Solomon, has he?”

Clarissa
frowned. “What do you mean?”

Langston
pushed past her into the apartment, heedless of her attempts to stop him. She
hurried after him, skidding to a halt when he paused in the kitchen where Danny
was getting another beer from the fridge.

“Don’t
you think it’s time you told your sister the truth?” Langston said.

Danny
squinted at him. “Who are you and what the hell are ya
talkin’ abou’?”

“I’m
talking about how you used your own sister as a bargaining chip to get yourself
out of prison.”

The
words hit Clarissa like a blow to the stomach, and she stumbled backward.
Danny’s eyes flicked to hers.

“Is
that true?” she managed to ask.

“Danny
here made a deal with Solomon, told all about you, what you could do, how to
find you, everything,” Langston bit out.

Clarissa
just stared at Danny, who didn’t say anything, just took a swig of his beer as
he stared right back. She could tell he’d done just what Langston accused him
of by the guilt in his eyes.

“How
could you do that to me?” she asked, her mind still reeling from the idea that
her own brother, her flesh and blood kin, had betrayed her. “You sold me out to
someone who very nearly killed me, just to save yourself?”

“Wha’ was I supposed to do?” Danny blustered, finally
speaking. “Rot in that hell for the next twenty years? I thought you’d want to
help your brother out, or does family mean nothin’ to
you?”

“I
had no choice but to ‘help out,’” Clarissa retorted, advancing on Danny until
she stood toe-to-toe with him. “Solomon didn’t give me a choice. And you
deserved to rot in jail, Danny. You killed a man! I told you not to take that
job, I told you it would go south, and I was right.”

“Dinna be throwin’ that up in me
face again! The cop shot me first — I was just shootin’
back!”

“That’s
a lie,” Langston gritted out. “You shot first and without hesitation.”

Danny
studied Langston a moment before realization struck. “It’s you!” he said. “You’re
the copper that arrested me.” He twisted toward Clarissa. “What the fuck are
you bringin’ a copper here for? To
send me back to prison?”

“Fuck
you, Danny,” she spat. “I’m leaving. I’m through with you. Since Dad left,
you’ve brought me nothing but trouble, and I’ve had it.”

“The
hell ya are,” Danny growled. “Ya
think I’m just gonna let ya
walk outta here and let him put me back in jail?”

“That’s
exactly what you’re going to do,” Langston interjected. “Or you and I are going
to have a problem.”

“I’ll
get my things,” Clarissa said. “And once I’m gone, I don’t ever want to hear
from you again, Danny. What would Dad think if he knew you’d sold me out like
that? We’re through, you and me. From now on, you’re on your own.” Disgust was
evident in her voice.

In
a way, she was relieved. For years she’d lived a life not of her choosing,
thinking that’s all there was for her. But now Langston had shown her she could
have more, she could have him, and she wanted it.

Clarissa
turned away only to find her arm snatched by Danny as he yanked her back. She
twisted to get away, then heard the smash of glass
before he’d pulled her back to front against him, her neck in a choke hold.

“I’d
hate to have to hurt ya, Rissa,”
Danny said evenly. “But I ain’t goin’
back to prison.”

The
cold glass of the broken beer bottle rested against her throat. Clarissa stared
at the jagged edge in shock, then lifted her gaze to
see Langston had drawn his gun and was pointing it at them.

They
were frozen in the eerie tableau for several agonizing seconds, then Danny spoke to Langston.

“Here’s
what’s gonna happen, copper. Me
and Rissa are leaving. So you put your gun down and
slide it real careful like over to me.”

“And
if I don’t?”

Danny’s
grip tightened on Clarissa. “I’ll start with her face before I move to her
neck, mate.”

O’Connell’s
expression was one of panic and terror, a combination Erik had never seen her
wear before, and it only fueled his rage.

“You’re
going to torture Clarissa, Danny?” Erik asked, trying to keep his voice calm
and reasonable. “She’s spent the past year of her life trying to get you out of
prison. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her.”

“Rissa knows you gotta look out
for yourself,” Danny said. “Ain’t nobody else gonna give a shit if you live or die. Now put down the
gun.” The panic in his eyes was one Erik had seen before, and it never boded
well.

“She’s
your sister,” Erik reminded him. “She’s your family.”

“Stop
saying that!” Danny yelled.

Danny
jerked and the glass scraped O’Connell’s neck. Her hiss of pain made fear spike
in Erik. He couldn’t lose her. Not now that he’d found her again.

“Okay,
okay,” Erik said, letting loose of his gun so it dangled in his hand. “I’m
going to put down the gun—”

A
pounding at the door made Danny start, and Erik winced as he saw the glass jerk
toward O’Connell’s face. She pulled as far away as she could, but Danny’s hold
on her was tight. Her eyes landed on Erik, and they were filled with tears she
refused to shed.

“Police! Open up!”

What
the hell? How had they known? They couldn’t have…but wait…

“Danny,”
Erik said urgently, “where were you tonight?”

The
pounding on the door got louder. Danny’s panicked gaze darted from Erik to the
door and back. He didn’t answer.

“Danny,
in a second they’re going to come through that door. And it won’t go well for
you, not holding a hostage. Listen to me, Danny.”

Danny
looked back at Erik.

“Think
about what you’re doing,” Erik said. “All you have is a bottle, and they’re
going to come in with guns. You won’t survive it. You know you won’t.”

He
seemed to hesitate. Erik pressed his advantage.

“Look,
Danny,” he said, motioning with his head. “Look at what you’re doing to her.”
Blood seeped from the cuts the bottle had made, the trails streaking
O’Connell’s white skin. Her hands clutched at his arm as she tried to stay
beyond the bottle’s touch.

Danny
looked down, and he seemed to falter slightly as he saw O’Connell’s wounds.
Erik took his chance, bringing his gun up and firing. Danny cried out in pain,
the bottle dropping from his hand. He released her and clutched his shoulder.

The
door burst open at the sound of the gunshot and Erik raised his hands in
surrender, knowing he had to stand still though everything in him wanted to go
to O’Connell. She stood, seemingly in frozen shock.

“I’m
FBI,” Erik explained, handing over his gun to a cop and waiting while they
searched him for his ID. As soon as they verified he was who he said, he rushed
to O’Connell.

“Can
we get some EMTs in here?” he snapped at an officer standing by. “She needs
medical attention.”

“They
both do,” the officer observed.

Erik
wasn’t in the mood at the moment to give a shit about Danny.

“Are
you all right?” he asked O’Connell. She was shaking all over and staring at
Danny, who lay on the floor, unconscious now.

She
raised her eyes to his and Erik winced, her pain-filled gaze cutting him as
surely as the glass had cut her. She didn’t say anything, and Erik carefully
folded her in his arms.

“Why
would he do that?” she asked, her voice muffled by his chest.

“I
don’t know.” Erik sighed. “Fear makes people do bad things sometimes.”

The
EMTs arrived then and began working on Danny. Erik reluctantly released
O’Connell so they could see to her wounds as well.

“How’d
you find him?” Erik asked the plainclothes detective standing nearby.

“He
robbed a liquor store a few hours ago,” the detective replied. “Surveillance
footage gave us a facial recognition match, saw he was wanted for a prison
escape. Used the traffic cameras and got lucky. Why are you here?”