Risking it All (29 page)

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.