Authors: Tessa Bailey
Tags: #police, #Romantic Suspense, #brazen, #line of duty, #erotic, #new york, #Contemporary Romance
in. The police don’t like his connection
to me, but they live with it. Especially
this time, when they needed to use it.
Use me.”
He paused for a moment, no idea he’d
just broken something inside her. Her
uncle had known her plans this whole
time? Why had he pretended otherwise?
Humoring her. He’d been humoring her,
all the while keeping tabs on his
incapable niece.
“They asked me to keep you safe. To
help get you out.”
Undiluted exhaustion swamped her.
No confidence. Not one person in this
world believed in her. “And you just
agreed? What did they offer you?”
He laughed without humor. “They
offered to make my life hell if I didn’t
play along. My sister’s life.” With
renewed determination, he prowled
toward her. “I didn’t want to do it until I
saw your picture. But I would have
walked through fire after I did.” His
eyes searched her face as if committing
it to memory. “Before I even met you,
I’d started falling for you, Sera. Believe
me or don’t believe me. I’m not sure if it
matters anymore. Not if you think I’m a
monster.” He took a deep breath. “But I
need you to know that I’m fucked for life
over you.”
No, she wouldn’t let those words
penetrate the hard shell she’d begun to
form. “So you didn’t do it to get the cops
off your back. You did it to get
me
onto
mine
.”
Her words broke his stride, made him
flinch. “Don’t you talk about us like
that.”
“What
us
?” Her temper sizzled. She’d
been played, not just by Bowen, but her
uncle, the police department. She must
be a laughingstock if they’d sent in a
known felon to rescue her. This entire
time, she’d been playing a part and
Bowen had known the truth. What kind
of fantasy world had she been living in?
The kind of world where the police
commissioner’s niece goes on dates with
the leader of a racketeering operation.
S o
stupid.
“There was never an
us
. I
was undercover and they made sure you
were convenient.” She applied the gun’s
safety and let it drop to her side. “Does
the commissioner know he sent in a
murderer to save me?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sera stared out the passenger side
window of Bowen’s car as they drove
back to Bensonhurst, marveling at how
completely she’d been flipped on her
head since yesterday. She’d sat in this
exact spot, still warm from the beach.
Sleepily satisfied from Bowen’s touch
and wondering what they’d have for
dinner.
Beside her, Bowen steered the car
through narrow Brooklyn streets, his
face inscrutable. Thankfully, he hadn’t
spoken a word since they’d revealed
themselves at the construction site. She
didn’t want him to open his mouth and
drop more words on her head. Words
that perpetuated even more doubt where
too much already existed. She didn’t
want to know how he felt about her. She
didn’t want to hope he’d meant what
he’d said. That kind of thinking had
already been proved useless by their
mutual lies. Perhaps he didn’t have an
inkling of her insecurities where her
uncle was concerned, but he’d still been
a part of the deceit. He’d let her carry on
like a wayward child with a babysitter.
In her mind, that in itself was
unforgivable. Nothing he could say
would negate those deceptions or change
who they were, so his silence,
both
of
their silences, was for the best. She just
needed to make her shift at Rush
count
tonight and this would be over. Any
longer and her uncle would swoop in
and shut her down.
In the console between their seats,
Bowen’s cell phone vibrated and danced
in the cupholder. As if on autopilot, he
picked the phone up and held it to his
ear.
“Yeah, Wayne.” He listened for a
moment. “Fine, I’ll get it done.” Another
lengthy pause. “Well, it shouldn’t
surprise you that I’m handling business.
The guy knew what would happen if he
didn’t pay.” They pulled to a stop at a
red light. “No, I’ll do it on my own.
Yeah, I’m sure.”
Trying not to let her alarm show at the
deadness in his voice or what he’d said,
Sera waited for him to explain, but he
stayed silent. “Where are we going?”
“Quick stop.” His lips barely moved.
“Won’t take long.”
The uncomfortable feeling in her chest
increased as they pulled up in front of a
run-down white house. A dirty FOR SALE
sign hung at an angle in the yard and one
of the steps leading to the porch had
completely caved in. She didn’t know
what kind of business Bowen planned on
handling, but he didn’t seem in good
shape for much of anything at the
moment. It shouldn’t concern her, not
after what she’d just found out, but it
did. A lot. She hated the idea of him
walking into a potentially dangerous
situation, especially alone, in a frame of
mind she couldn’t read.
Up until this point, he’d at least made
a token effort to hide his illegal
activities from her. The fact that he
seemed to have given up on that score…
frankly, it scared her.
“Don’t go in there.”
He gave no sign that he’d heard her.
“Stay in the car. Don’t get out for any
reason.”
“
Please
.”
Without so much as a glance in her
direction, he climbed out of the car and
slammed the door. He moved with
graceful purpose toward the house,
rapping quickly on the door twice. Sera
held her breath, her heartbeat echoing in
her ears. Everything inside her screamed
at her to stop him, but she also felt glued
to the seat, as if watching a horrible
accident in progress. A minute passed
before the door opened a crack. She
barely glimpsed the man’s pale,
panicked face before Bowen wedged his
foot inside the crack and muscled his
way into the house, locking a hand
around the man’s throat as he went.
No.
The house’s front door thumped
shut with a hollow noise and the only
audible sound was her shaky inhales.
Was this some kind of challenge?
Go
ahead and try to stop me, cop.
Sera
didn’t think so. His move seemed
desperate, born of the frustration she’d
caused.
She flashed back to the previous night,
when he’d held her in his arms like a
treasured possession.
I’m fucked for
life
, he’d said back at the construction
site. A hard lump formed in her throat at
the memory of his face, the torture
written all over it. No, this reckless
behavior was something else. Something
that both of them could later regret.
Bowen, because he wasn’t thinking
clearly, and her, for once again sitting
back and watching the action take place
around her. She needed to
do
something.
Decision made, she double-checked
the weapon tucked into the deep pocket
of her coat and left the car, careful to
close the door gently behind her.
Midmorning on a weekday, the street
stood empty, the blue-collar residents
long since having left for work. She
moved swiftly on the cracked cement
surrounding the house, locating a
window that would allow her a glimpse
inside. Using an overturned bucket for
extra height, she boosted herself up and
peered through the filthy window. What
she saw nearly made her body shut
down.
Bowen stood in front of the man
who’d answered the door, face covered
in blood. He swayed a little on his feet,
eyes glassy and unfocused. The man
stood with hands fisted at his sides, still
looking terrified. It made no sense when
he was clearly the one inflicting injury.
He shook his head and tried to step back
from Bowen, but Bowen only followed.
Then his mouth moved and Sera read the
four words on his lips with dawning
horror.
Hit me again. More.
He wanted to be hit. Wanted the pain.
Tears blurred her vision as she
scrambled off the bucket. Responsibility
for his pain bogged her down as she
sprinted for the door. If she wasn’t
responsible, at the very least, her uncle
owned the burden. But no, this was
her
.
She’d done this.
When she reached the door and heard
a sickening thud on the other side, she
wasted no time throwing open the
unlocked door, letting it slam against the
inside wall. Her hand itched to draw her
weapon, but the white-faced man wasn’t
armed. To her shock, she still wanted to
retaliate against the man who continued
to pummel Bowen with his fists, even
knowing Bowen was asking him for it.
“Get away from him.” The man
appeared slightly dazed as his attention
flew to her, but he didn’t move to follow
her order. “I said, get the fuck away
from him!”
Bowen weaved on his feet as the man
jumped back. “Get back in the car,
Ladybug.”
The use of her nickname, slurred and
flat, sliced like a knife through her heart.
Swallowing the fear of seeing his
bloodied face up close, she closed the
distance between them and slipped her
hand around his elbow. “Come on. I’m
not getting back in the car without you.”
“Not done here.”
“Yes, you are.” She pulled him around
to face her, wincing at the cut under his
eye pouring blood. His lips were
lacerated in two spots. The eye that had
already been blackened when she met
him was now swollen shut. Tears
clogged her throat. “Dammit, Bowen.
Dammit.”
“I hate it when you curse…you’re too
good. My girl is too good.” He cupped
her cheek and swayed toward her. “But
you’re not my girl, are you? I dreamed
it?”
She felt on the verge of collapse,
under his weight, his words, but she
needed to focus on getting him out of
there. “No, you didn’t dream it. Let’s go
home.”
“Home. I like you saying that.” He
pierced her with his one good eye. “I
didn’t do it. Last night…that guy who
tried to take you away from me. I
couldn’t do it.”
Sera should have felt surprise. Or
relief. Remembering the state he’d been
in leaving the apartment last night, it
didn’t seem possible he’d left the man
alive.
Yet
she
believed
him
wholeheartedly.
“Why didn’t you do it?” she
whispered, aware of the other man still
standing close by.
“I don’t know.” His throat muscles
worked. “I wanted you to be proud of
me or something.”
She scrubbed a hand over her hollow-
feeling chest. “I am. I’m proud of you.”
Finally, he let her lead him toward the
door. Before they walked out, he turned
to the man who’d been pounding him
with fists only minutes ago. “The debt is
squashed.”
The man deflated. “Thanks, man.”
Bowen shook his head. “No more.
Lose your money somewhere else. I
don’t want it.”
I’m proud of you.
Bowen focused on those words, let
them mingle with the pain in his jaw, his
head. No one had ever said that to him.
He never realized it until he heard them.
He’d done something right. It wouldn’t
make a difference now, but at least she
didn’t think he was a total monster. Part
of him wished he were still standing in
that house, fists connecting with his face.
He’d craved that pain, found it beautiful
as long as it distracted him from the
image of her running away from him.
Pointing a gun at him and calling him a
murderer. Hating him.