Divided (Unguarded #2) (8 page)

My body quivers as tingling grows in my stomach. God, he’s so unnaturally perfect. I swallow deeply as my body heats up. His dress shirt tightens around his shoulders and biceps, his muscles defined through the fabric, all the way down to where it tucks in at his narrow hips. A file slams down on the desk, breaking my train of thought. A chair scrapes against the floor and before I know it, the Roamyn I remember becomes someone I don’t recognize and instead a cop sent to interrogate me about the same thing they always want from me.

I swallow my nerves. My hero has become my enemy.

Roamyn coughs, breaking the tension thickening with every second we sit, staring each other down.

“Miss Jenkins. Do you know why you’re here today?”

A shiver runs down my spine as my name leaves his lips. He stares at me vacantly, without recognition and my heart deflates as he sits here pretending he doesn’t know me. Pretending that less than twenty-four hours ago I wasn’t writhing beneath him as he tendered explosive kisses all over my body.

I don’t answer, instead fold my arms across my chest and meet his glare. If this is how he wants to play it—two can play this game.

His brows furrow impossibly deeper, his hardened stare a clear warning.

I roll my eyes.

“No, Detective. Why am I here?”

The ridiculous thing about all this is the fact that Roamyn and the police actually think I know a damn thing that goes on in the Marino world of crime. As if the little nineteen-year-old whore would be told vital information or anything of importance. I’m a hole for Lucio Marino to stick his dick in. Entertainment for the sleazy bastards at Sweet Tarts.

I had a chance to leave. I tried to. To end this constant nightmare, I’ll never forget. But Lucio caught me leaving and I paid the price for two months until I was so far gone beyond repair, I just didn’t care what happened after that. Until the moments I’d think of
him.
Every time he would bring me back to the place where I believed leaving again could lead to a road of happiness. A path to a new life. To live in a world free from darkness and owned by peace. I want him. To hold me, listen to me. Just like he did the first night we met. It was enough, it was everything I craved and everything I’d never had from anyone other than my sister. But I can’t have him. Not now I know he’s a cop. Once Giuseppe or Lucio find out what he is, we’ll both be as good as dead.

“Alison.” His voice drifts me back into reality.

“What do you want from me?” I ask hunching over. My stomach is doing flips.

He pauses in his reach for the file between us and answers, “I want to help you.” I don’t have a chance to respond before he continues on, his tone professional. “You’re here because of your relationship with the Marino’s. You’re Lucio Marino’s girlfriend, correct?”

I shudder and a horrible taste sits in my mouth just enlightening the thought of such a thing.

“No. I am
not
his girlfriend,” I spit back, gritting my teeth so tight it actually hurts.

Roamyn sighs and clasps his fingers together in front of him, frustration growing fast. “Look. This will be a lot easier if you tell us the truth and tell me what you know. If you help us, Alison, we can help you.”

Anger bubbles inside of me at his words and I stand, pushing the seat back behind me. “You think I need your so-called help? Well, I don’t. I won’t tell you anything, just like I’ve never said anything to the other detectives all the previous times they questioned me. So let me go. I know you can’t keep me here without anything on me.”

I know the rules, this isn’t my first rodeo. And the more he spoke without care, the more my heart shattered. My breathing quickens. My hands ball into fists at my side.

He gestures toward the door. “You’re free to go. But if you don’t help yourself while you still can it might get to a point where I can’t do anything.”

The sincerity in his eyes, tells me he’s giving me the truth. To whoever is listening it would seem standard procedure, every word spoken. But to us, it’s so much more. There must be a lot I don’t know but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want his help. I know what happens to a rat, and while I don’t care if I carry the title, there’s no offer the police could give to convince me to risk another two months or longer of torture. I’m not strong enough to pull through that again.

I shift my handbag over my shoulder and move toward the door. Reaching for the handle, his voice stops me in my tracks.

“One of the girls from Sweet Tarts was murdered last night.” He drops a photo on the table and I glance back at it. I turn away when I recognize Silver’s vibrant red hair framing her lifeless face.

Roamyn points to the photo of Silver dead on a gurney. Make-up free, dark rings around her eyes. Her face, pale. She looks so much younger. “She was only seventeen. Her name was Ashley Parks and her parents are still looking for her. She went missing three years ago here in the city while she and her family were on vacation. Now we have to go tell her parents we found their missing daughter dead on the sidewalk, after being shot to death and enduring years of God knows what at the hands of a psychopath. So tell me, Alison, you want to be next? You want to end up with a few bullets in your chest, left to die on the street?”

My shoulders hunch over, his harsh tone hitting the spot I’m sure he intended on. “You don’t understand.”

“Let me try.” Roamyn stands and walks toward me hand out but I pull back. If he touches me I’ll back down and I can’t. I just can’t do it. But I can give him the truth about Silver. About us all.

“To me, she was Silver. She never drank a drop of alcohol and never touched drugs. Her favorite color was red and she cared about the girls at the club even though she didn’t care much about herself.” I reach for the door handle and add, “Their daughter was gone, Roamyn. She wasn’t Ashley. She was Silver and she’d been her for a long time. They should be glad she’s gone. At least now she can rest in peace.”

With nothing else to say I shut the door, not waiting for a response and I leave without looking back.

The hustle of the city greets me with relief as I step out from behind the doors of the precinct. I rub my hand across my forehead and breathe in the fresh air. As fresh as the air in New York City gets. I check around me, making sure I haven’t been seen by anyone I might know and take off down the sidewalk. Lucio still has a habit of having me followed and if I’ve been seen in a precinct, I’m going to be in for questions and a hell of a lot more. A hand clamps down on my shoulder a second later and I spin around, pulling myself free. A hand flies to my chest as I slow my rapid breathing.

“God. Way to scare a girl, jackass.”

I shouldn’t have been rude, but he’s frightened the fuck out of me. For a moment, I thought it was Lucio. That and I’m hurt, angry and upset because I know I should tell the truth and give them what I know, but how will that help Silver’s grieving family? How will it help me? It won’t. Nothing can bring Silver back to her parents and it was the truth what I told Roamyn before. They should be glad she’s gone. Now she doesn’t have to endure the rest of her life stuck in a hell she’d eventually die in any way.

Roamyn steps forward and his hands come to my face. A thumb rubs against my bottom lip, the sting of it being touched a reminder of the cut Lucio put there last night.

“What happened?” he growls, no softness to his tone. No care in his voice, yet he demands to know what happened. The cut throbs and Lucio’s face appears before my eyes again and I shudder. When I had gotten home from having dinner with Lindsey—

who I hadn’t seen in months—he’d been waiting for me wondering where I’d been. When I told him I went out for late night dinner, he believed me. But he still clocked me one not being home when his drunk ass got there. Apparently, now I have to be home when he is.

I twist my head and pull away, not wanting to get into it. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

I only get a step and freeze. I’m halted. I can’t move, even if I wanted to because words cement me in place.

“They didn’t break you.”

I turn around keeping my head low to hide my face as his words bring the pieces of our past down around me, taking me back to the night I’ll never forget. Tears build behind my eyes and my body shakes. He steps toward me and my heart thumps so hard it’s almost painful. He’s so close. His cologne invades my senses and it’s the same smell that comforted me through a few hours that changed the course of my life. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here. I inhale his deliciousness in and it spirals lust through my veins. I lift my gaze slowly, taking in the thickness of his arms, arms I don’t think I’ll ever not want to be wrapped around me. My body heats up and my cheeks warm. I grew infatuated with him over the past four years, and a few weeks ago I found my chance when he walked into my work. I transfixed on his memory, imagined my very own fairytale. His intentions back then were so innocent and sweet, not intended as anything else. He was kind and thoughtful when all I was used to was cruel and heartless. He’s right, they didn’t break me. Then. But two months later, I was on the way to hell with a one-way ticket.

I swallow my nerves and stare deep into the hazel eyes I could get lost in forever.

“You never came back,” he says.

Pain swallows my words. I shake my head. “I couldn’t.”

God, did I want to. He had no idea what happened.

He runs a hand through his hair and anger laces his features. “This conversation is going to have to wait. We can’t really be seen talking. But it’s not over, Ali. I don’t want to see you here again. Things will get so much worse than you know. We’re building a solid case and if you don’t get out soon you’re going to be in the firing line and I’m not going to be able to stop it.”

“If I get to see your face again. Maybe it’s worth it,” I whisper, transfixed on him even though I know I shouldn’t be. I should run. Run in the other direction after that confession from him.

“This face isn’t worth you getting into any more trouble.”

His words pierce my heart. He’s so right yet so wrong. Doesn’t he realize he wears trouble like his fine fitting suit? His swagger. The way he turns heads in a room. His smile, his massive shoulders, it’s overwhelming and the best kind of trouble. I straighten my back and stand taller, using the few seconds to build up courage.

I lean in on the tips of my toes and bring my lips close to his ear. “You’re wrong, Detective Tate. I have a feeling you’d be worth… Every. Single. Second. But you’re chasing after the wrong girl if you think you can use me as a pawn in your game of get the bad guys.”

He pulls away at my closeness.

“You want to finish this. Meet me where you know I’ll be waiting.”

With those last words, I hightail it out of there without waiting for further rejection. I don’t know if he’ll show on the bridge, but I’ll wait all night if I have too.

My knees bounce, as I wait. I check my watch for the second time in the past ten minutes. I turn my head to each side of the Brooklyn Bridge, peering out through people walking and cycling by, to see if Roamyn’s going to show up. After I chose to walk away earlier today, I’m not sure he’ll bother. I stand, pacing back and forth the length of the bench we sat on four years ago, listening to cars pass with every nerve-wracking second. Letting out a sigh, I grab my phone from the seat next to me and check that too. Two messages light up the screen, one from Adriana asking if I want to go to a movie tonight with her, and the other a message from Lindsey thanking me for meeting for dinner with her last night. I ignore the messages and put my phone back in my bag. It’s my one night off for the week and I’ve just wasted it on a fantasy, waiting for him to show up like he did when I didn’t. It was stupid, but my heart doesn’t care. After I walked the whole way home this morning, I realized I have a million questions I want answers to.

“Why didn’t you come back? I came back every night. Every night for weeks. But you never showed. I was so fucking worried about you I drove myself crazy. Wondering if I’d done the right thing. I didn’t. I should have taken you to a hospital, the precinct. Something else.”

I spin around at his voice and there he stands, brows wrinkled, hands tucked into his pockets. Regret crystal clear in his pained expression.

“You know I would never have gone. You did exactly what I needed you to do, Roamyn,” I reply, confidence in my tone. I would never have told him a damn thing had I have known what he does for a living.