Risking it All (20 page)

railing. It didn’t escape her he had a

view of anyone coming up behind her.

“When is the last time you were at the

beach?”

She ate her last bite of sandwich as

she dug through her memory. “When I

was a senior in high school. Which is

just sad, when you get right down to it.”

“Hmm. Who were you with?”

“A pack of nuns.”

He choked on a sip of coffee. “You

make them sound like wolves.”

“Oh, you’ve met them?”

His crack of laughter drew the

attention of some passing joggers. “That

bad, huh?”

She collected their garbage and tossed

it in the nearby garbage can. “Let’s just

say, wearing a habit at the beach in

ninety-degree

weather

doesn’t

put

someone in a good mood to begin with.

Throw in thirty teenage girls who are

seeing boys with their shirts off for the

first time…it’s not pretty.”

Bowen’s eyes narrowed on her. “You

were gawking again, weren’t you?”

“Guilty.”

His voice dropped. “We’ll sort that

out later, won’t we?”

The air grew thick between them,

heating her even in the cool morning

breeze. It would be so easy to stand and

wrap her arms around him, but she

wanted to take this opportunity to know

more. To understand him better as a

person before their labels, their real

lives, intruded and she’d never get the

chance again. Her throat grew suddenly

tight. “What about you? Last time at the

beach.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but

frowned and shut it again. “I don’t

remember. I might have been here last

week…” She could tell from his tone he

meant it. If he wanted to, he could have

easily made something up. Clearly, he

couldn’t call to mind the last time he’d

been, and it bothered him tremendously.

“Just tell me about any time you were

at the beach, Bowen,” she offered

quietly. “It doesn’t have to be the last

time.”

Sera watched shadows pass behind

his

eyes

as

he

thought.

The

lightheartedness of a moment ago had

passed, leaving his troubles etched in the

hard lines of his body. Outlined by the

bright morning light from his position on

the top rail, he looked like he belonged

painted on the ceiling of a cathedral. An

angel who had defected to the dark side.

“All right, I got one.” His far-off

voice startled her out of her daydream.

“My father drove me down here one

afternoon when I was thirteen. Even let

me sit in the front seat.” He pointed to a

spot beyond her shoulder. “There was a

group of high school kids hanging out,

smoking, whatever. He told me to get out

of the car and pick a fight with the

biggest one. Wouldn’t let me get back in

the car until I did it. Until I won.”

Sera was certain if she moved, her

body would splinter in half. Anger

coursed through her veins at the idea of a

father treating his child so callously. She

felt pity for the little boy, too, but she

held on to the anger because if he saw

her pity, he’d hate it. “Did you win?”

“No. I rode the subway home with two

busted eyes that day. So he brought me

back the following week. And the week

after that. Until he could point out

anyone on the beach and I could take

them.” He gave a quick shake of his

head. “But I haven’t lost a fair fight

since then, so lesson learned, right?”

“Fair fight?
None
of that was fair.”

When he merely stared off into the

distance, she drew in a deep breath to

calm herself down. It didn’t work. Her

hands were shaking in her lap with the

desire to break a commandment on his

behalf. “Why did you tell me that?”

“To see if you’ll leave.” His hands

clenched and unclenched on the rail.

“Once you know I’m just a trained attack

dog.”

“Would you let me leave?”

“No.” Stormy gray eyes found hers.

“
No
.”

In her old line of work, the ER had

been a place where income brackets and

political differences didn’t matter.

Making people better, that’s what

mattered. This need to care for Bowen

went so far beyond a calling. It couldn’t

be controlled or reasoned with. It was

necessity. Sharing his aches wasn’t a

burden, but a privilege. He’d just proven

beyond a shadow of a doubt how vastly

different their worlds had been growing

up. How different they were
still
. She

didn’t care anymore if her pity was

unwanted, though. She needed to touch

him.

At the exact moment she launched

herself from the bench toward Bowen,

he dropped from the railing and met her

halfway, their bodies colliding. His

arms banded across her back, crushing

her to his chest. Her chin fit just right

into the notch of his neck. They held

each other and swayed for a while,

ignoring the curious looks of people

walking past. She could only hold tight

and hope the simple act of her being

there helped in some way.

Suddenly, Bowen’s body started

shaking. It alarmed her at first until she

realized he was laughing. “What?”

“You’re not even going to believe

me.”

After everything he’d just told her?

“Try me.”

He gripped her shoulders and turned

her around slowly. “Don’t gawk,

Ladybug.”

“I don’t gaw—” She never finished

her

sentence.

Walking

down

the

boardwalk,

looking

righteous

and

militant, was a pack of nuns. “No way.”

“Way.”

She dropped back onto the bench in a

fit of laughter, Bowen watching her with

an amused expression. Sera hid her face

in her hands, hoping the nuns would pass

by quickly, but somehow knew Bowen

wouldn’t be able to let that happen. And

she was right. As the nuns drew even

with their bench, he let out a loud

whistle.

“Sisters.” He leaned back on the

railing like a lazy cat and threw them a

wink. “You’re looking extra lovely

today. Put in a good word with the big

guy for me, would ya?”

As Sera buried her face back in her

hands with a groan, she swore she heard

one of them giggle.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I
want
to stay just like this forever.

With Sera leaning against the railing in

front of Bowen, wind lifting her hair off

her shoulders, carrying her scent up to

his nose. If only he weren’t shielding her

back with his body on the off chance

someone decided to take a shot at her, it

would be perfect. An ache sprang to life

behind his eyes at the thought of her

being hit, falling to the ground, while he

stood there helpless. It was fast

becoming his worst nightmare, one

replaying itself over and over since this

morning.

Connor hadn’t followed them, he’d

made sure of it. But he still didn’t plan

on taking any chances with Sera’s life.

What conclusions had the guy drawn

from what he’d seen? If Bowen had

judged Connor correctly, he didn’t miss

a thing. His other judgment, that Connor

wouldn’t do anything to harm Sera after

she’d saved his life…he wasn’t so sure

about that anymore. Working for a man

like Hogan, hell, being
related
to him,

would harden a man over time. To go

from the military to street muscle meant

he’d done something to fall far. Despite

his good gut feeling about the guy,

Bowen had never trusted him. He didn’t

trust anybody. But now, after that look

Connor had given him as he drove past,

he’d graduated to a direct threat.

He’d been frantic to get her out of his

neighborhood. Then as they drove down

the parkway, he’d experienced the

pressing urge to keep driving. Past

Coney Island, out of Brooklyn. If he

thought she wouldn’t object, he might

have actually done it. After seeing

Connor this morning, he’d almost called

Troy back and begged him to come get

Sera out. To put her in a safe house

somewhere no one could find her; screw

the precious ledger the commissioner

wanted. Then he’d realized what that

meant. It meant they’d take her away

from him. Forever. When it came down

to it, would he keep her in jeopardy just

to keep her in Brooklyn a little longer?

God, he didn’t know. The thought of not

having her within reach caused nausea to

rise in his throat. She was heaven

propped against his chest, such a

contrast to the cold metal of the gun at

the small of his back. Two sides of the

same coin. Good and evil. Which was

he?

When Bowen heard the food stands

and amusement park rides open behind

them, he took her hand and walked her

toward a warehouse-size building in the

center of the attractions. With the beach

getting busier, he wanted to get her

indoors.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Yes.”

He squeezed her hand in thanks, trying

not to think about what would happen to

that trust when she found out he was

keeping such a huge secret from her. As

soon as the four walls of the massive

video arcade surrounded them, a little

bit of his tension faded. “How do you

feel about air hockey?”

A mischievous smile played around

her lips, making him want to kiss the

breath out of her. “Oh, I feel pretty good

about it.”

Twenty minutes later, they were tied

at two games apiece. He could not wipe

the stupid grin off his face. She’d turned

out to be a little competitor, his Sera.

Having ditched school as a kid in favor

of the arcade countless times, he’d

played more than his fair share of air

hockey. Fighting had kicked his reflexes

up

another

notch,

making

him

unbeatable. Sera was giving him a

legitimate run for his money, and he

wasn’t taking it easy on her.

“Who taught you how to play? Don’t

tell me the nuns, I won’t believe you.”

Her smile was so gorgeous it made his

stomach ache. “My brother and I used to

play. When my…family came to visit us

at school. They’d take us to lunch and

the arcade. Had to drag us away from the

table.”

“Visit you?” He dropped two quarters

into the slot. “How far away was

college?”

She didn’t answer right away.

“Massachusetts. From third grade up,

actually. At least for me. My brother

was older.”

“What?” When his fingers started to

hurt, he realized he was squeezing the

mallet in his hand. “Why would they

send you that far away?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She put

on a brave smile. “Anyway, I can just

tell you’re stalling to delay your

inevitable loss.”

All this time, he’d pictured her

childhood filled with barbecues and pet

kittens. Knowing it wasn’t, knowing

she’d been sent away and left on her

own, reminded him he didn’t know

enough about her. And if he asked, all he

would get was her cover story, which

he’d already memorized. She wouldn’t

tell him anything about her parents, her

upbringing. Suddenly it felt unacceptable

that he didn’t know every single detail

about her.

She tapped her mallet against her

thigh, those big brown eyes practically

begging him for a distraction from the

subject. “Bowen?”

“You’re right.” He cleared the rust out

of his throat. “I’m shaking in my boots,

Ladybug.”

“Are you patronizing me now? That’s

not a good strategy with me.”

“I’ll have to remember that.” He sent

the puck flying across the table. “I’m all