by Sarah Fine
She barely knew how to explain what was going on inside her. The past hours had been full of worry and responsibility and sorrow, but seeing him made it all go away. “I haven’t really given you any reason to show up, and yet here you are.”
He laughed. “If that’s what you think, you don’t see yourself very clearly.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, sending little shocks of pleasure shimmying through her.
“Can I buy you a drink, Sergeant Margolis?” She slid her arm around his waist, suddenly certain she wanted him to be by her side for the rest of the night. Bad idea, maybe, but she couldn’t make herself care.
He raised his head and looked around, obviously trying to spot someone among the horde of half-intoxicated paramedics pressed in around them. But a second later he was smiling at her again. “I’d love that.”
They wound their way through the crowd, Cacy fielding slaps on the back. When one landed on her ass, Eli instantly slipped in behind her and guided her in front of him. She hopped onto a barstool, and he claimed the one next to her. He was still wearing jeans, but he’d changed into a black T-shirt that fit him so well it had to be a crime. Cacy tried to direct her thoughts away from what it might be like to peel it off him.
“What can I get you?” asked the bartender as he set two beers in front of the guys next to them.
Cacy looked at Eli inquiringly, but he just shrugged. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”
“Aw, come on, Eli,” she began, but then she saw the look on his face and realized he might not actually know what he liked. “Two Jamesons, water back.”
The bartender nodded and turned away. Cacy bumped Eli’s knees with her own. “Let me guess. You didn’t get out much in Whatsitburgh?”
“No such thing as bars there. At least, not for ordinary people. Water was rationed so carefully that no one could afford anything beyond the basics.”
Cacy bit her lip. He said it matter-of-factly, but she felt like a jerk. She’d known they were better off in the East, but she hadn’t known how bad it had gotten everywhere else. “I’m glad you found your way here.”
His smile was sad. “I didn’t, not really. It was my sister. She’s the brains of this outfit. She got offered this once-in-a-lifetime position at Harvard. Our parents died a few years ago, so we didn’t have anything keeping us in Pittsburgh, and had every reason to leave.”
Cacy reached out and took his hand. “Then I’m grateful to your sister.”
The bartender came back and set their glasses down. Cacy swiped her phone over the scanner embedded in the edge of the bar counter, which brought up her bill. “Add a round for the guys,” she said.
“Round on the house!” the bartender shouted, and a roar went up all around them.
Eli laughed, and Cacy noticed he had a dimple in his cheek when he smiled big enough. She reached out and touched her finger to it. Eli stopped laughing and put his hand over hers, keeping it there for a moment. Then he pulled it away from his face and wrapped her fingers around her glass. He picked up his own and held it up. She did the same.
“To fresh starts,” he said, in a light voice that belied the intense look in his eyes. He clinked his glass against hers and threw the whiskey back.
Cacy had her glass to her lips when Eli started to cough. She set it down and clapped him on the back.
“Man, that burns,” he wheezed, his eyes wide.
“You’ve never had Jameson before?”
“I’ve never had alcohol before,” he admitted, his cheeks turning red. Cacy suddenly found herself thinking about how much fun it might be to introduce Eli to all her vices.
“So, you’re a mockolate virgin, a cannoli virgin, and an alcohol virgin? Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
He chuckled and nodded at the bartender, who set another glass in front of him. Eli’s smile was so sexy it nearly made her fall off her chair. “You’ll have to get to know me a little better for that.”
Cacy reached for her glass and tapped it against his, surprised at how badly she wanted to get to know him a little better. “It’s a deal.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Eli downed his fourth drink quickly, noting with gratitude that his throat no longer felt like it was about to explode. The tingling looseness in his arms and legs was pleasant, and he didn’t think he’d smiled or laughed this much in years. But that wasn’t because of the alcohol. Cacy was still next to him, sitting close enough for her hair to tickle his arm. He’d never talked about himself this much before, either, but she seemed to want to know, and he realized he wanted her to. Every time he tried to move the conversation in her direction, though, she turned it around on him or changed the subject. It occurred to him that she was being evasive again, but it was hard to hold on to those thoughts right now, because the rest of her was so damn distracting.
The bare skin of her shoulder was warm against his bicep as she leaned over and peeked into the glass clutched in his hands. “Another?”
He looked down at her full pink lips curling into a sensuous smile. Her eyes were bright. “I may be reaching my limit. I think you might be, too, Lieutenant.”
“My metabolism would astound you,” she giggled, waving at the bartender, who sauntered over with the bottle, like he’d been waiting, and refilled her glass.
“I’ll bet it would,” Eli muttered, recalling how her body had healed itself from what he’d believed was a fatal wound.
“Mmm?” She laid her head against his shoulder and put her hand on his knee. Eli clenched his jaw. She was touching him way too much, which was bad in all kinds of ways. For the five hundredth time in the last hour, he looked around the room, searching for Len or Dec, wondering if they’d noticed.
“I was just thinking there are a lot of things about you that would probably astound me,” he said more breathlessly than he intended as her hand slid up to his thigh. “Cacy . . .” Don’t do this to me. I won’t be able to say no.
She raised her head and looked straight into his eyes, like he’d said his thoughts aloud. For a moment, he wondered if he had. She was close enough for her spicy scent to fill him up, warm enough for him to lean in to her, tempting enough to draw his entire body tight with desire. No matter what she wore, she always looked sexy, but tonight, she had on a tank top that left little to his active imagination. Her skirt ended midthigh and flared at the bottom, which was both incredibly cute and painfully sexy. And with the rush of alcohol through his veins, he was having an increasingly hard time keeping his hands off her, which was why they were gripping his glass like they were held there with vascular glue.
The heat and longing in her gaze made his teeth grind. She opened her mouth to say something, and all he could think was, Anything. Anything you want, and I’ll give it to you. Just ask me. Please ask me.
Suddenly cheers went up in the crowd, and the pounding music went silent. A wiry guy wearing all black leaped onto the bar, holding a violin. He flashed a wide grin and pointed his bow down at the Chief, who was looking disheveled and holding a near-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Dec lifted it in a salute.
The violinist tucked the instrument against his chin, and the bar got quiet. He laid the bow against the strings and began to play what Eli soon recognized as “Danny Boy,” the lonely, lilting swell of the music rising over the hush of the crowd. He looked at Cacy, whose easy smile had dissolved. Eli glanced around him at all the somber, sad faces. Then he stared down at the bar, once again replaying his moments with Patrick Ferry, wishing he’d been able to save him.
The song ended, and there was a moment of silence. Then the musician drew his bow along the strings with a screeching dissonance and launched into some sort of jig, stomping on the bar with his hard-heeled boots. The depth of the sound increased, and Eli leaned over to see a bagpipe player standing on the other side of the bar, his fingers flying.
“D
ance!” shouted the men around him. “Time for a dance, Chief!”
Dec had his arms up in the air like he was in no mood to argue. “Where’s my sister?” he yelled. “I need Cacy!”
“I knew this would happen,” she laughed. “Right here, boys. Here I come.” She rose from her barstool, resting her hands on Eli’s shoulders and leaning so close that her breasts brushed against the side of his face. He was barely able to suppress his moan. He turned his head away to look at the fiddler on the bar, who was playing like his life depended on it.
The pressure of Cacy’s hands disappeared, and Eli looked around to find her. She’d climbed onto the bar, and now her shapely legs were right in front of his face. His eyes traced from ankles to thighs. If he lifted his gaze a few inches, he’d know if she was wearing underwear. He glanced at the guys around him, who were gaping at her with naked appreciation, and found himself praying she was.
Her face was glowing beneath the lights of the bar. She was looking down at him, that heat still in her eyes, and she winked. Her white teeth flashed as she grinned and began to dance, her heels clacking against the bar rhythmically, providing the perfect percussion for the fiddle and bagpipes. Her feet were moving incredibly fast, just a blur. She inched her way across the bar, her feet never stopping, and abruptly dove forward into the outstretched arms of the guys at the edge of the bar. Eli shot to his feet, trying to see her, desperate to know if she was all right, but then a space cleared and she was there with Dec, who was dancing now as well. Their backs were straight, their shoulders squared, and their feet clacked a precise beat against the wooden planks of the floor as they hopped and spun in time with the music.
The men and women around them were dancing as well, but none of them held a candle to the Ferrys, who looked like they’d been dancing that way all their lives. Both of them were smiling, but their eyes were shining with unshed tears. Dec’s black hair was plastered to his face, while Cacy’s flew around her as her brother lifted her up and swung her around.
All Eli could do was stare. Cacy’s cheeks were a lush pink, and her smile was so beautiful it hurt him. Her movements were sure and graceful, lithe and strong. He’d never seen anything so lovely, and he’d never wanted anyone as badly. The crowd was packed tightly around her and her brother, and Eli leaned so he could keep his eyes on her, needing to see her as much as he needed to breathe. His heart pounded in time with the music. His head pounded, too, saturated with desire. His breaths came quick and deep, and suddenly he was dizzy with his want of her, and he had to get away from it. Because, as he stared at Dec, at everyone else crowded around her, he realized he wasn’t part of her world. And it hurt too much.
Eli staggered toward the exit. He couldn’t reach it fast enough. Cacy had sucked all the air from the room. He stumbled through the door and drew deep lungfuls of swampy Boston air. His head was spinning as he walked unsteadily to the canal wall and leaned against it, the image of Cacy’s bright eyes and wide smile taunting him.
“God, I shouldn’t have come,” he mumbled, staring down at the cloudy brown water lit up by the streetlights. He’d spent all week being driven crazy by her remoteness and mystery, and now he’d spent all evening being driven crazy by her raw, sexy charm. Maybe that was it. No matter what she was up to, no matter her mood, no matter what was going on for her, Cacy just drove him crazy.
And he needed to get over it. She was a freaking princess in a family that ruled the city. She had brothers who could bury him, and who probably would if they suspected Eli was messing around with her. Even worse than that, she was hiding something from him. Something big. Maybe the whole family had had some type of genetic enhancement that allowed them to heal supernaturally fast. Or maybe they’d all sold their souls for eternal youth, and that was why the Chief looked twenty-five, though Eli had discovered the other day that he’d been the head of the Chinatown station for the last fifteen years. And none of that explained the pendants every single member of the family wore around their necks, or why Cacy’s was apparently a portal to some parallel dimension.
Eli hung his head and closed his eyes, but that made him feel like he was falling, so he opened them again. Maybe he should let himself get transferred. Maybe what he needed was to get away from the Ferrys, and especially Cacy, who’d been on his mind every waking second since he’d met her. Many sleeping seconds, too. His dreams of her had left him spent and aching. And he’d only known her for a week. He didn’t think he could take much more.
“Dammit,” he snapped, pulling himself up and turning to go. Deep in the bar, a raucous cheer went up, and despite his frustration, he paused. Half of him was clawing to go back in there, to watch her some more. Another part of him wanted to go far beyond just watching. That part wanted to push her up against a wall, ruck her skirt up, and plunge into her. Hard.
He’d taken one heavy step toward the door of the bar when it opened. Len, Manny, and Gil stepped out, their eyes focused on him. “Hey,” Len sneered. “I guess Cacy finally got tired of babysitting your sorry ass.”
Eli stopped short. Len was probably right, but it still pissed him off. He chuckled, half-surprised to realize he no longer gave a fuck what Len thought about him. “Jealous, sir?”
Len stepped up close to him, bumping Eli’s chest with his own. The guy was at least five inches shorter, but a lot wider. Eli took a few lazy steps back, still chuckling quietly while his pulse beat hard in his ears.
Len’s smile was pure ugliness. “I guess it’s my turn with her, eh? She looks good tonight, doesn’t she? Pretty drunk, too. Maybe I can bend her over the bar once Dec’s passed out.” He high-fived Gil.
A rush of pure rage roared through Eli. “She doesn’t want you. Don’t touch her.”
Len’s face twisted. “Are you threatening me?”
Eli smiled, now past caring about anything this asshole could do to him. Len had crossed the line, and Eli wanted to hurt him very badly. “Yessir, I am.”
It was almost a relief when Len swung at him. Eli ducked instinctively, and Len staggered. A reckless anger burned through Eli, and when Len charged again, Eli drew back and slammed his fist into Len’s jaw. Len hit the pavement with a curse. He stood up and spat blood onto the concrete as he massaged his jaw. “Boy, you are not long for this world.”
He, Manny, and Gil charged Eli all at once, fists flying. Eli braced himself and took Gil out with a solid roundhouse kick, but Len doubled Eli over with a blow to the stomach, and Manny grabbed Eli’s hair and wrenched him off balance. Eli drove a knee hard into Manny’s ribs, and Manny let go of him with a grunt. But Eli barely had time to take a breath before Gil jumped on top of him, making him stumble back against the canal wall. Eli bent sharply and flipped Gil over his shoulders, but he didn’t even have time to straighten up before Len hit him like a freight train, driving his shoulder into Eli’s chest. Len lunged and jerked Eli’s legs up, sending him plummeting over the canal wall. Eli’s head cracked against the cement as he fell. His world turned black.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Fight!” someone shouted, cutting through the wall of music around Cacy. “Fight!”
The cry was coming from near the exit. Dec stopped dancing and plowed through the crowd. Cacy followed. When she emerged from the bar, her breath caught in her throat. Dec dove forward, shouting “Len, no!” just as the night supervisor sent Eli flying over the wall and into the canal below.
Cacy sprinted toward Len, who spun around, rubbing his shoulder, right before she punched him in the face. He bent over, clutching at his nose, and she kneed him in the balls, sending him to the pavement. She kicked him in the side and hissed, “If you touch Eli ever again, I swear I will tie you up, drop you in the Common, and laugh when they find your body.”
She leaped over him and hit the edge of the wall. Eli was standing in the chest-deep water a few feet below her, clutching his head. He looked like he had no idea what had happened to him. Dec
was shouting to the other paramedics to block the boat traffic upstream so that Eli didn’t get crushed against the wall by an errant AV.
“Eli,” Cacy called. “Hey.”
Eli looked up, blinking and shaking his head. He spat a mouthful of water into the canal, making Cacy’s heart sink. “Cacy?”
Cacy looked over her shoulder. “Trevor! Get your ass over here and help me!”
Trevor, who’d been standing on the wall and stopping traffic several yards down, jogged over.
“Help me pull him out,” she ordered. “You’re the only one who’s strong enough.”
“We’re getting a rope—”
“We can reach him. I want him out of that fucking water now. Dec! You too!”
Dec appeared at Trevor’s side, his hair sticking up at funny angles like he’d raked his hand through it. “He’s gonna need—”
“I know what he needs,” Cacy snapped. “Get him out, and I’ll take care of him.”
Dec and Trevor looked at each other for a second. “I’ll hold your legs,” Dec offered. “You’re stronger.”
Trevor nodded and bent over the wall without another word. Dec knelt at his feet and wrapped his muscled arms around Trevor’s calves.
“Eli, lift your arms,” Cacy called. The way he was standing there, dazed and staring, he’d obviously hit his head. Cacy was terrified he’d lose consciousness and sink into the disease-infested water again. Every second he spent in that toxic soup shortened his life. She wanted to scream in frustration. She wanted to murder Len and his two little sidekicks, who both lay groaning on the pavement.
Eli looked up again and shakily raised his arms, allowing Trevor to grab his hands. “Hang on tight, man,” Trevor called as he started to pull. The massive muscles across Trevor’s back flexed as he lifted Eli from the water. “Shit, you’re heavy.”
Cacy leaned over the wall herself, reaching for Eli. She caught his arm and pulled, too, bringing Eli back over the canal wall with a final, wrenching heave. He rolled from the wall onto the sidewalk, coughing and gagging.