by Jules Court
And then there was no more talking as he kissed a line down her body.
Chapter Eleven
The buzzing of her phone jolted Priya from sleep. She flung a hand out to grab her phone off the nightstand, but smacked into bare flesh instead. Her eyes sprang open.
“Grzzmph,” Brian mumbled, rolling over onto his stomach.
She wasn’t in her own bed. She was in Brian’s. And they’d worked each other over pretty good last night. The rush of memory was enough to set off a cascade of tingles between her thighs.
Her phone buzzed again while she was contemplating waking Brian up. She leaned over the side of the bed to fish for her phone. Her hands came up empty. She slanted a look over at Brian. Still sleeping. Hopefully he’d stay that way while she located her phone. The image of her naked on her hands and knees scrabbling around on the floor was one he didn’t need. She’d have to change her name and move to Canada from shame.
She found her phone just as it buzzed again. This time it was enough to wake Brian. When he sat up, the sheet slid to his waist. He was all lean muscle and bedhead.
He grabbed his phone off the nightstand.
“It’s mine,” she said, and looked at her messages. Three new texts, all from Sara.
“Who is it?” Brian asked.
An uncharacteristic indecision gripped her. Brian looked at her expectantly. She wanted to tell him and let him take care of everything. She schooled her features. “Just the hospital,” she lied. “I have to go.”
“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”
“That’s why I earn the ‘barely enough to cover my student loans’ bucks,” she babbled. Brian swung his legs over to the floor. “What are you doing?”
He stood up, giving her a view of last night’s playground. He seemed profoundly comfortable with his nudity, but then, he had good reason to be. “Looking for my pants,” he said. “I’ve heard going out in public without them is frowned upon.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m giving you a ride.”
“I’m capable of calling a cab.”
“But why should you when I can just give you a ride. Plus, it’s the middle of the night. Isn’t it? What time is it?”
“Two a.m.”
There was no way to refuse without making him suspicious. Who turned down a free ride? Good thing her car was still at the hospital. Sara was waiting for her at a diner on the other side of town, but arguing with him and waiting for a cab would probably take just as long as going to the hospital and getting her car. “Okay,” she said instead. “Thanks.”
During the ride over, her relief that Sara was all right clashed with the pit forming in her stomach over the knowledge that Brian would view her ditching him to meet Sara alone as a betrayal. But she had to be Team Sara.
When they reached the hospital, instead of pulling up to the front, Brian pulled into a parking spot. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m parking.”
“Why?”
“Because pushing you out of the passenger door as I roll by seems rude,” he said. “I’m walking you inside.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Are you this mean to all the guys you date or am I special?”
“Who said anything about dating?”
“You’re right. We’ve already met each other’s families. This is way past dating. What’s that rule about salary and rings? Is it still two months’ salary?”
“You’re insane,” she said, and opened the car door.
“You’re right. Diamonds are ethically questionable. So no ring?”
She turned on her heel and walked away. She ordered herself not to look back. But her self-control wasn’t necessary. He’d followed her. A moment later, his voice was at her ear.
“Need me to grab you anything?” he asked. “Food?” He looked her up and down. “Pants?”
“I’ve got clean scrubs and sneakers in my locker,” she said. “Bye now.” She gave him a waving motion. He didn’t follow her inside. When the automatic glass door whooshed shut behind her, he was left on the other side.
* * *
Tonight Brian had learned all sorts of things about Priya, even though he was damn sure he’d barely begun to peel her onion. For a moment she’d let her guard down, revealing the fire hidden under that starchy exterior. And now he’d just discovered something else: Priya was a shitty liar.
There was no way she’d been called in to work. She was trying way too hard to get rid of him and, no ego stroking needed, after last night, there was no doubt she was digging his chili. She should be all over him; instead she was acting increasingly shifty about his continued presence. It was insultingly obvious that she was meeting up with Sara. And now that he knew her big secret, he understood why she was so driven to protect her cousin at all costs.
He walked back and started his car. But instead of leaving, he just moved to a position where he could see anyone exiting the parking lot. Sure enough, not five minutes later, his little liar zipped past him.
He shifted into gear and followed, knowing she’d lead him straight to Sara. He was finally going to get his witness. He ignored the sudden pit in his stomach.
* * *
Priya spotted her the second she stepped through the door. Sara sat in the booth farthest from the entrance to Johnny’s Diner, with her back to the wall. Her blond wig looked like something that came with a cheap Halloween costume. One of those labeled sexy nurse, sexy pirate, or sexy cartoon character, candy bar or cardboard box—anything as long as it was sexy.
She slid into the seat across from Sara. “Are you all right?” she asked. “I’ve been worried.”
“You know?” Sara asked. She toyed with the spoon in her coffee cup.
Priya put her hands flat on the table and willed Sara to look up at her. “I know you saw something bad go down,” she said gently. “There’s a police officer looking for you. Detective MacGregor.”
Sara dropped her spoon. It clattered on the table. Her eyes were wide and dark.
“It’s not like that,” Priya said. “He can help you.” She reached across the table to take Sara’s hands.
When Sara snatched them away, Priya tried not to flinch from the rejection.
“I can’t trust the police,” Sara said.
“They know you didn’t kill anyone.”
“How can you be so naïve?” Sara spit the words out. “I’m a nothing but a slut with a record to them. I’ve got no money, no connections...not like the man behind the—” Sara’s mouth shut. She swallowed as though the word “murder” was stuck in her throat. “The police are going to want an easy solve for this. And we all know how easy I am. Going to them is just volunteering to put the cuffs on myself.”
“Brian’s not like that. He can help.”
Up until the words exited her mouth, Priya hadn’t known her own intentions. Walking into that diner, she was unsure if she was there to aid in Sara’s escape or convince her to go to the police. But apparently she’d chosen to trust in Brian. Must be all that oxytocin still floating around in her bloodstream from sleeping with him. They didn’t call it the bonding hormone for nothing. It wasn’t as though she could be feeling this bone-deep certainty that Brian would help after only knowing him for a weekend otherwise.
“Brian? God, Priya, haven’t you learned anything? Guys will do or say anything to get what they want. How can someone so smart be so stupid about men?”
But Brian was different. He had to be.
Before she could respond, a waitress with smudged eyeliner and tired eyes approached, coffeepot in hand. She poured more coffee into Sara’s cup before asking Priya, “What can I get you, hon?”
“Just coffee.”
The moment the waitress departed
, Sara rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I need money,” she said. “I need to get out of the city.”
“Where will you go?”
“Does it matter?”
“Sara, you can’t run from this.”
“You’re one to talk.”
But that’s how Priya knew. She couldn’t run from her past anymore. She had to face up to what she’d done because she’d never be free otherwise. “You’ll always be looking over your shoulder.”
Sara dumped a bunch of sugar into her coffee and stirred so hard coffee splashed over the side of her cup. “Whose side are you on anyway?” she snapped.
“Yours,” Priya said. “Always yours. You know that.”
“If you were really on my side, you’d help me.” Sara stood up abruptly.
If she walked out that door, Priya would never be able to find her again. And with no money, she’d be vulnerable. “Wait,” she said. “I only have twenty dollars on me, but we can hit an ATM.”
Sara sat back down and Priya pulled out her wallet. “You can take my credit card.”
A deep voice sounded behind her. “You know that’s a crime, right?”
She jumped, but she didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. With her back to the door, she hadn’t been paying any attention to who came in and out of the diner. Brian had walked right up without her noticing. She’d make a terrible spy.
Sara tossed her bewigged head. “Private conversation, asshole,” she said.
Brian sat down next to Priya, forcing her to slide over and blocking her inside the booth.
“Did you follow me?” she demanded. So much for trust. She really was an idiot when it came to guys.
“You’re the one planning a crime spree and I’m the bad guy?” His tone was light, but his easy smile didn’t reach his eyes. She’d seen a lot of his smiles. Even begun to catalogue them, but she’d never seen one like this. Brian was pissed. At her.
She glared back at him. She’d been up front from the start that she only cared about Sara.
“What the hell’s going on?” Sara asked, looking back and forth between them.
“Meet Detective Brian MacGregor,” Priya said, surprised to hear her voice emerge clipped but still normal. Not the animal growl bubbling up inside her.
“You sold me out?” Sara asked. “At least he’s better looking than the last one.”
Brian’s thigh nudged up against Priya’s as he leaned forward. She jerked her leg away.
“You’re a hard woman to find, Ms. Murphy,” Brian said.
“I know my rights,” Sara said. “I don’t have to talk to you.”
“I just want to have a conversation,” Brian said.
“No.” Sara rose so quickly her coffee cup rattled.
But Brian was even faster. Before Priya had time to register his movement, he was already blocking Sara’s path. “Ms. Murphy, why don’t we take a ride?” It wasn’t a question.
“Get out of my way!” Sara said.
Heads snapped around.
“I’m going to have to insist,” Brian said.
Sara tried to push past him, but he grabbed her by the arm. “Sara Murphy, you’re under arrest for murder,” he said.
Priya jumped up. “What are you doing? You know she didn’t do anything.”
* * *
Priya’s words hammered him like a blow to the chest. He clamped his lips closed against the justifications that threated to tumble out. From the moment he saw Priya perched on that barstool eating french fries, they’d been moving toward this moment.
He sighed and reached for the handcuffs on the back of his belt. He’d come prepared. “Sara Murphy,” he said, “you have the right to remain silent.”
As he slapped the cuffs on a visibly angry Sara, it became apparent that their drama had not gone unnoticed. All heads in the diner craned toward them followed by the sounds of clicking as everyone scrambled to snap a picture with their smartphones.
He’d started to perp walk Sara forward when from behind him he heard Priya yell, “Get that out of my face!”
He whirled around. A young guy in a Boston College T-shirt was leaning out of the booth he shared with three of his buddies, arm extended. He’d stuck his phone directly in Priya’s face, obviously filming the arrest.
Brian plucked the phone out of the kid’s hand. “What the fuck!” the kid yelled.
“You want your phone back, show me some ID,” Brian said.
“You can’t do that,” the kid said.
“I just did. ID.”
The kid fished his wallet out. “I haven’t done anything wrong,” he said, but he handed over his driver’s license anyway.
Brian flipped it between his fingers. “Well, Todd,” he said, “seems like you’re not twenty-one yet. Is that alcohol I smell on you?”
Todd paled. “I was the designated driver. I haven’t been drinking, I swear.”
He pinned Todd with a stare, letting him sweat it out for a second, before passing back the license. He held up Todd’s phone. “If I see this wind up on the internet, then I’m going to know who to come looking for,” he warned. “Despite what Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, YouTube and every other voyeuristic pit of narcissism would have you believe, people are still entitled to their privacy. Your thirst for more followers isn’t more important than other people’s careers.” He held the phone out. “Got it?”
“Yes sir,” Todd said, reaching for his phone.
Brian relinquished it. “Delete it and we won’t have a problem. Now tip your server and get out of here.”
“And you,” he said to Sara, who was eyeing the front door. “Don’t even think about it. You don’t want me to add evading to your list.”
“Don’t worry,” Priya said to her cousin, shifting her body so her back was toward Brian. “I’m calling Erin. I’m going to take care of this.”
Chapter Twelve
Sara was obviously a pro at sitting in the backseat of a police car. Brian watched her from the rearview mirror as she sat with her mouth clamped shut. The cheap blond wig sat askew. Even on straight, it hadn’t been fooling anyone.
His temper was stretched tighter than her T-shirt. He should be happy. He had his witness and, if his gut was right, he’d soon have the Castle Hill Gang by the balls.
But when he’d marched Sara out of the diner, Priya had refused to meet his eyes.
“You really scared Priya,” he said to Sara. His voice emerged harsher than he’d intended. “You know this is some serious shit you’re mixed up in.”
She remained silent. He snuck another glance. Light from passing headlights streamed into the car, advancing and retreating. It splashed across her features. Her skin was paler, not warm like Priya’s. Her jaw was more angular. Hard.
But she’d gone to juvie for her cousin. She couldn’t be the human Dumpster fire he initially judged her to be based solely on her record. “I know you care about her. So quit fucking up. She worries about you.”
“You’re speaking for Priya now?” Sara asked. Her voice dripped with scorn. “Typical male,” she said. “Sleep with a guy once and he thinks he’s planted his flag. Starts acting like you’re nothing but a conquered colony.”
He clenched the steering wheel. “I’m not—” he began, before catching himself. He didn’t have to justify himself to her. She was the one in back of his police car. But he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “What did she say about me?”
He could have kicked his own ass for the question. He ran a hand over his hair. “Never mind,” he said. “We’re almost at the station and we’ll have plenty to talk about there. You’re going to love my partner. Real chatty dude.”
And Brian was going to keep it strictly professional from here on out. He snuck anoth
er glance at the woman Priya snuck out of his bed to meet with. She gave him the finger.
She was definitely related to Priya, who would probably do worse than that to him when he saw her again.
* * *
After dumping Sara in central processing, he took the stairs two at a time up to the squad room. He found Danny standing just outside in the hall, toe to toe with a woman in a rumpled suit. She’d obviously gotten dressed in a hurry; several pieces of her dark hair escaped her messy bun to curl against her neck. She leaned in toward Danny with one finger extended as if about to jam it in his chest. Unsurprising—Danny lived to piss off defense attorneys, and the only ones in suits at this time of night were the defense attorneys.
But what was surprising was Danny’s posture. He met the lawyer’s forward stance with one of his own and no trace of his trademark chill. The air almost crackled between them.
Brian stepped toward them slowly, as if about to defuse a bomb. “You must be Ms. Murphy’s lawyer,” he said.
The lawyer spun, effectively giving Danny the cold shoulder, to face Brian. She couldn’t be but a few years out of law school. Great. Baby attorneys always had something to prove. To top it off, she was cute in a “tiny nose, big blue eyes” kind of way. That meant she’d be even more of a bulldog. With a face like that, she couldn’t afford to play nice.
He gave her his best “we’re all friends here” smile in an attempt to disarm her, but she steamrolled right over it.
“Are you planning on charging my client? Because right now, as I was telling your partner, what you’re doing here looks a lot like bullying.”
“Ms...?” he asked.
“Erin Rafferty,” Danny supplied.
“Ms. Rafferty, we have evidence linking your client to a murder.”
“Then either charge her or I’m taking her home.”
He exchanged a look with Danny. Fucking lawyers.
“If you’ll excuse us for a moment, Ms. Rafferty,” Danny said.
“I need to confer with my client. I expect when you return that you’ll inform her that she’s free to go,” she said, and gave a decisive nod. She turned on her heel, but just before she left, her gaze lingered for a moment on Danny’s forearms. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, exposing the colorful tattoos snaking around his arms. She couldn’t have been more obvious if she’d licked her lips.