Authors: Tessa Bailey
Tags: #police, #Romantic Suspense, #brazen, #line of duty, #erotic, #new york, #Contemporary Romance
she was in danger. She wanted to stay
with him and she would get what she
wanted. Simple as that. The fact that her
presence in his life would make it worth
living came secondary. As her face
transformed with sleepy awareness, he
wondered if she knew. That he loved
her. Would kill for her. That even though
her naked breasts were making his dick
hard, he simultaneously wanted to hide
her under the covers and guard her.
“Too much, Sera. You make me feel
too much.”
Her smile dipped at the edges. “Is that
a bad thing?”
“No.” He pressed his lips to her
forehead. “Not as long as you’re with
me to shoulder some of it. Sometimes I
get worried I’m not enough to carry it
all.”
”You’re not the only one who feels
too much.” Her gaze searched his. “You
have to help me, too.”
A dizzying rush of love careered
through him. He couldn’t see anything
but her, felt nothing but her body beneath
him, molding to his so perfectly
. Perfect.
This is perfect.
He took her wrists and
pinned them above her head on the
pillow. “Then let me ease you now,
baby.”
A shrill series of beeps broke the
spell she’d placed him under. It took
Bowen a moment to place the sound, his
head was so fogged with Sera. His
phone. It vibrated and danced on the side
table next to his bed. Lust slowly
dissipated at the implications of a 6:00
a.m. phone call. No good news came this
early in the morning. Sera’s soft form
tensing beneath him told Bowen she’d
come to the same conclusion.
Knowing he’d never be able to
concentrate while lying cradled between
her thighs, he reluctantly sat up and
snatched up the phone. When he read the
caller ID, it felt as though he’d been
kicked in the ribs
. Rikers Island
correctional facility
. “Hello?”
“Bowen Driscol?”
A man’s clipped voice. Not his
father’s, as he’d been expecting. What
did it mean that someone else was
calling? “One and the same,” he
answered slowly.
“Your father has been taken to the
infirmary. We’re obligated to inform the
closest family member.” The caller
paused, as if letting that news sink in. It
didn’t. “Details aren’t available right
now, but we do know he had an
altercation with another prisoner. His
wounds are serious enough that you
should try to make it here as soon as
possible.”
“Fine.” He hung up the phone and
breathed deeply through his nose, trying
not to lose the contents of his stomach.
His mind whirled, trying to find
detachment so he could get to his feet
and move. But all he could come up with
was guilt. In order to protect his sister,
he’d played a part in putting his father
away. A small part, but a part
nonetheless. Now Lenny could die
because of it. No matter that their
relationship bordered on hostile. They
were still blood.
Sera rubbed circles into his back, her
lack of questions telling him she’d heard
everything. “Bowen,” she said, softly.
“Get dressed. I’ll come with you.”
He shot to his feet, already trying to
come up with an alternative. Her safety
came before everything else. Yes, even
Lenny. “Are you out of your mind?” In
the dimness, he searched for the jeans
he’d discarded the night before, tugging
them on with jerky movements. “Even if
the idea of you in that place didn’t make
me feel sick, I can’t bring an undercover
cop around my father. Not to mention
every other motherfucker who’s taken a
shiv this week. What if someone
recognized you?”
“No one will recognize me.” She rose
from the bed, her naked body still
flushed from his touch. He had to pause
in the act of dragging on his T-shirt to
watch her approach, she was so
goddamn beautiful. How could this girl
be in his room? Listening to his foul
words and still wanting him?
“You’re not coming with me.”
She obviously wanted to argue,
wheels turning behind her expressive
eyes. “You realize the only other option
is to leave me alone here?”
“No, it’s not,” he bit off. “I’ll take you
to Troy and Ruby.”
Fear coated her expression.
Fear?
His
body had a physical reaction to seeing it
on her face. “No, Bowen. No cops.”
“What happened last night, Ladybug?”
He had to work to keep his voice even.
“Before you came back to me?”
She looked down at the ground,
obviously still not ready to talk about it.
Her unwillingness to confide in him hurt.
Badly. He watched as she changed
tactics, tried to distract him. Even though
he knew her game, he also knew it
would work. She slipped her arms
around his neck and held him tight. “No
one can protect me like you. If you want
me to stay in the car, I will, okay? I
don’t want to be pawned off on someone
else.”
Her compact curves felt too good
against his, her confidence in him heady.
Did he want to leave her side for one
single second? Hell no. She would be
safest with him. And if he allowed
himself to see reason, the parking lot of
a correctional institution might be safer
for her than Bensonhurst right now.
“All right.” His fingers traced down
the slope of her back. “Go ahead and
take a shower. Much as I like having my
scent all over you, I want you
comfortable.”
“Bowen,” she murmured into his
chest.
“Today.
We’ll
talk
about
everything today, okay? That’s a
promise.”
He forced himself to release her,
watching until she disappeared into the
bathroom.
Bowen walked down the hallway of the
infirmary, where the harried nurse had
directed him. He didn’t spend a lot of
time in hospitals, but he imagined the
Rikers Island infirmary looked nothing
like the fancy Manhattan ones most men
his age went to to visit their fathers.
Lenny would hate being here, would
consider any kind of care performed on
his behalf as a weakness. A lessening of
his manhood. The number of times he’d
resisted medical attention reminded
Bowen he’d inherited at least a small
part of Lenny. Right at this moment, with
his potential fate staring him in the face,
it was an unwelcome thought.
To his left, two male nurses who
looked more like nightclub bouncers
played checkers. They eyed him lazily as
he passed, as if they knew something he
didn’t. It made him itch between his
shoulder blades, urged him to turn
around and leave this place so he could
focus on getting Sera somewhere safe.
Somewhere they could be together
without looking over their shoulders as
they walked down the street.
He stopped in front of the hospital
room door he’d been sent to, bracing
himself for what he would see on the
other side. A man who had once been his
hero and tormentor, hooked up to
machines?
Bowen pushed open the door and
came to a halt. Lenny sat in a chair
wearing street clothes, cursing at the
remote control he had pointed at the
television. The picture of health, not a
sign of injury marred his robust frame.
First came the relief, but rage followed
closely on its heels.
“Took you long enough,” Lenny
remarked
casually,
without
even
bothering to look at him. “Chrissakes,
daytime television sucks. You know
what I miss most about being on the
outside? HBO. Miss it even more than
you, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.” Bowen yanked the door
closed behind him. “What the fuck is
this?”
“This? This is a favor I called in.”
Lenny tossed the remote onto the unused
hospital bed. “I knew I wouldn’t get you
down here any other way. Still got a soft
spot for your old man?”
“Maybe I just came down to make
sure you were dead.”
“And if I wasn’t? Were you going to
finish the job?” Lenny laughed. “Sorry to
disappoint. The only thing capable of
killing me on the inside is the food.”
Bowen crossed his arms impatiently.
“Explain yourself or I’m out. A reunion
wasn’t on my to-do list for the day.”
“What was on your to-do list, son?
Besides the waitress.” He used his
fingers to symbolize quotation marks as
he said the word “waitress.” White-hot
heat punctured Bowen’s chest, traveling
down his entire body. Panic, fury, denial
hit him, one by one. When Lenny
laughed, Bowen knew the fire burning
out of control inside him was showing
on his face. How much did his father
know? Did he know Sera was a cop? Or
was it merely speculation passed on
from a suspicious Wayne?
He had to play this exactly right. “Let
me ask you a question. When did you
and Wayne become so fascinated by
what chick I’m bagging?”
Lenny stood slowly, his trademark
scorn contorting his features.
There he
is, my father. This is him, not the
affable joker I walked in on
. “I’ll tell
you when. Since you let a man get away
with a blatant show of disrespect. Let
him come into our neighborhood and spit
where you live. And you let him
walk
?”
Bowen said nothing. Lenny was
referring to the night he’d gone to
retaliate for what had happened outside
Marco’s. The night Sera had come
dangerously close to being taken. Hurt.
Ironically, he never wanted to kill a man
as much as he had that night, but the
promise
of
her
goodness
had
miraculously pulled him back.
“
Jesus
.” Lenny paced. “You know
what they’re saying about you?”
“You think I give a fuck?” Bowen shot
back. “We could have had this little
heart-to-heart over the phone.”
“No, we couldn’t have. I needed to
look you in the face to make sure you
understand.”
“Understand what exactly?”
Lenny came closer, bringing them toe
to toe. “I won’t be in here forever. Oh,
no. When I get out, if my operation has
been taken over by some muscle-head
with shit for brains, I will make you
sorry.” He swiped a hand over his
mouth. “Those men won’t listen to
Wayne. He doesn’t have the fight to back
up his mouth. Not like you.”
“Be careful, there might have been a
compliment in there somewhere.”
“What do you want? A dad who takes
you to Mets games? Teaches you how to
marinate a steak?” He spat on the floor.
“I taught you more valuable lessons.
How to fight. How to make money. You
should be grateful.”
“Yeah?” Bowen laughed under his
breath. “That’s going to be a tough card
to find on Father’s Day. Dad, thanks for
giving me the ability to put someone in a
coma.”
Lenny stared up at the ceiling, as if
imploring it for patience. That made two
of them. “Listen to me,” his father
enunciated through clenched teeth. “I
brought you down here to talk some
goddamn sense into you. Whoever this
girl is, she damn sure ain’t worth giving
up what you help me build. Sometimes
one gets under your skin and makes you
question yourself. Take it from the man
who was fucked over by your whore
mother. They’re all the same. So do us
all a favor and stop thinking with your
dick.”
Even against his iron will, a niggle of
doubt arose at Lenny’s warning. The
mention of his mother had done it. The
memory of Pamela leaving, tossing him
to the wolves, where he’d remained his