Though she did say she missed you.
That thought gave him renewed determination. He had to get her to come out of hiding, meet him somewhere. Only when they were face-to-face would he be able to convince her that he was telling the truth. But how?
Two more shots and the answer came to him. O’Connell was a fighter and loved a challenge. She hated to be viewed as incompetent or as if she couldn’t take care of herself.
“That’s it,” he mused to himself. It had to be. He had nothing else to try and nothing more to lose.
The next night, Erik was back with Steve, logging on to the same website. He waited impatiently. Would she come? The hands of the clock seemed to crawl by. The hour she’d appeared last night came…and went.
“She’s not coming,” he said to Steve, his voice flat with disappointment.
“Chill. She’ll come,” Steve reassured him.
Nearly forty-five minutes later, he saw her.
[Calamity has entered the room.]
“She’s here,” he said excitedly.
“Invite her to a private chat,” Steve reminded him.
Erik clicked the mouse a couple times and waited.
[Calamity has accepted your invitation.]
Erik’s palms were sweaty as he typed.
I’m glad you came back.
Shouldn’t have. Don’t know why I did.
Okay, time to put his plan into action before she bolted. Aren’t you afraid I’ll track you down?
Please.
Her disdain came through loud and clear, and Erik couldn’t help grinning.
Is that why you won’t meet me? Afraid I’ll trap you?
Whiskey, you couldn’t trap a goldfish.
Such a smart-ass. Then it shouldn’t be a problem. Meet me. I dare you.
The cursor blinked, and Erik waited, holding his breath.
Gordon’s. Baltimore. Tomorrow night. Third floor.
[Calamity has left private chat.]
* * *
Erik sat nursing a whiskey on the rocks in a corner of the bar, the third floor, as she’d specified. She hadn’t said a time, so he’d arrived at six. Hell, he’d sit here all damn night if he had to.
O’Connell had been in Baltimore this whole time. Less than an hour from him. He couldn’t believe it. So close…
Hours passed, and still he sat. Waiting. His gut growing heavier with each passing hour. Maybe she’d changed her mind and wasn’t going to show after all.
No. That wasn’t her. She’d show. She had to.
The waitress came by yet again and Erik shook his head. If he kept drinking, he’d end up shit-faced probably about the time O’Connell showed up, and wouldn’t that make a fantastic impression?
Erik studied the bar, trying to see into its dark corners. It was busy, but not overly crowded. The music from the floor below could be felt through the floor, but the patrons up on this level were here for the excellent booze and upper-class ambiance. Velvet padded sofas and chairs littered the space, while muted lighting gave it a classy feel.
A glass with another round of whiskey was sat in front of him. “I said I didn’t want another round,” he said, turning to the waitress. To his surprise, she slid into the chair across from him.
“You are really bad at this,” she said. “I must say, Langston, I’m a little surprised.”
Erik stared. The Boston accent that had colored her words earlier was gone, though the straight blonde wig remained, along with the heavily made-up brown eyes and lip piercing. The tight, black sleeveless shirt and silk shorts that hadn’t even made an impression earlier now captivated his attention. The deep V of the plunging neckline made his mouth go dry.
“I knew it was you all along,” he said.
Clarissa snorted. “Right. Whatever. If it helps you sleep at night.” She shrugged.
Her eyes drank him in even as she pretended nonchalance. She thought for sure he’d made her right away, but he hadn’t said a word. It had taken hours of watching and waiting — to see if he’d been followed, to see if someone was with him, to see if he’d stay — before Clarissa had decided to approach him.
“Is the tongue piercing real?” he asked.
“Does it turn you on, Langston?” she asked innocently.
The look he gave her made the blood heat in her veins. Hoo boy. Clarissa grabbed his glass of cold whiskey and took a gulp. When she placed it back on the table, Langston picked it up. Never taking his gaze from hers, he turned the glass and took a drink, careful to place his lips where hers had been.
It was hard to breathe in here, Clarissa decided.
“What do you want?” she asked. Might as well get this show on the road.
He cleared his throat and looked down at the table before answering. “You know Solomon is still after you,” he said, glancing up.
Clarissa shrugged. “You here to make a peace offering?”
Langston shook his head. “I don’t work for him. He’s my father, but one of these days, I’ll have enough evidence to arrest and convict him.” He paused. “I’m just here to warn you.”
“I’ll consider myself warned then.” Clarissa stood to leave, but was stopped by Langston’s hand closing on her arm. In one quick movement, he pulled her down onto his lap.
“Leaving so soon?” he asked. “What’s the matter, O’Connell? Afraid you won’t be able to control yourself around me?”
His teasing smirk made her lips twitch in amusement despite her resolve to remain detached. Langston’s arms lightly imprisoned her, which should have pissed her off, but all she could think about was how good it was to be with him again.
“Is this any way for a Boy Scout to behave?” Clarissa said archly. “Manhandling me? I thought you were a gentleman.”
“I’m not feeling much like a gentleman at the moment.”
The low rasp of his voice sent a shiver through her. Then his hand curled possessively around the back of her neck and he was kissing her.
The weeks they’d spent apart faded away, along with the loneliness and persistent knot in the pit of her stomach. Clarissa kissed Langston back just as desperately, burying her fingers in his hair and pressing as close to him as she could possibly get while still clothed.
Langston tasted of whiskey and his own unique flavor and she couldn’t get enough. The scent of his cologne brought back memories of their time together, and it felt like she’d finally found home.
What was she going to do with him? Well, she knew what she wanted to do right now, but what about later? Trust had never come easy to Clarissa, but was she going to throw away the best thing that had ever happened to her because she was too afraid to trust him?
It was time to take a leap of faith. If she didn’t, Clarissa knew she’d regret it the rest of her life.
“Hey! I don’t pay you to make out with the customers!”
The irritated voice came from behind her, and she didn’t think Langston even heard. Or if he did, he certainly didn’t seem to care. She pulled back but his mouth just moved to her neck. Clarissa glanced around and saw the bar’s manager watching them, a livid expression on his face.
“Actually,” she said, “you don’t pay me at all.”
Clarissa stood and took Langston’s hand. “Let’s go,” she said, bypassing the manager and hustling down the stairs. A few moments later, they were climbing into the back of a cab. Clarissa barely had enough time to give the driver her address before Langston was all over her.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he breathed against her lips.
Something warm expanded inside Clarissa’s chest, melting the ice that had carefully guarded her heart. It didn’t matter now if she was wrong about Langston; she loved him.
The ride to her apartment was mercifully short, though she thought they’d probably given the taxi driver quite a show. Alone in the elevator, it took only seconds for Langston to have her against the wall, tear several buttons off her shirt, and get his hand inside her shorts and between her legs
. Clarissa’s hands clutched his shoulders, and she moaned into his mouth as her blood thundered in her ears.
His tongue stroked hers to the same rhythm as his fingers. First one, then two thrusting inside her, faster and harder, pressing against her until her body shattered in a mind-blowing climax that Langston hadn’t even needed the full eight-floor ride to achieve.
“I want you,” he growled in her ear, the heat of his breath sending a tremor through her.
“Yeah, I get that,” she said, her voice too breathy.
The elevator doors opened and thank God no one was around this late at night, for it took a few seconds for Clarissa’s legs to work properly again.
She led him down the hall to her apartment, having problems unlocking the door with him against her, his erection pressing into her backside while he dragged off her wig and started sucking the back of her neck. His hands slid under her shirt to cup her breasts, and Clarissa forgot what she was doing.
Suddenly, the door was yanked open, startling her. It must have startled Langston too, because he yanked her back to his side. Then she saw who it was.
“Danny,” she said nervously. “I thought you were out tonight.” He’d told her he was going to Atlantic City with some buddies for the weekend.
Danny’s eyes narrowed at her as he took in Langston standing behind her. “Changed me mind,” he finally said. “Dinna realize you were havin’ comp’ny tonight, Rissa.”
He turned away from the door, and Clarissa breathed a silent sigh of relief. Danny hadn’t recognized Langston in the dim hallway, plus she could tell from his bleary eyes and pronounced accent that he’d been drinking.
Clarissa turned around. “I didn’t know he’d be here,” she said in a low voice. “Let’s go somewhere else, okay? There’s a hotel on the next block.”
But Langston looked much different now as he stood there, his expression cold and hard as he stared after Danny.
“So you’re still with your brother,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.
Clarissa shrugged, the tone in Langston’s voice sounding warning bells inside her head.
“I don’t suppose he’s told you the truth about Solomon, has he?”
Clarissa frowned. “What do you mean?”
Langston pushed past her into the apartment, heedless of her attempts to stop him. She hurried after him, skidding to a halt when he paused in the kitchen where Danny was getting another beer from the fridge.
“Don’t you think it’s time you told your sister the truth?” Langston said.
Danny squinted at him. “Who are you and what the hell are ya talkin’ abou’?”
“I’m talking about how you used your own sister as a bargaining chip to get yourself out of prison.”
The words hit Clarissa like a blow to the stomach, and she stumbled backward. Danny’s eyes flicked to hers.
“Is that true?” she managed to ask.
“Danny here made a deal with Solomon, told all about you, what you could do, how to find you, everything,” Langston bit out.
Clarissa just stared at Danny, who didn’t say anything, just took a swig of his beer as he stared right back. She could tell he’d done just what Langston accused him of by the guilt in his eyes.
“How could you do that to me?” she asked, her mind still reeling from the idea that her own brother, her flesh and blood kin, had betrayed her. “You sold me out to someone who very nearly killed me, just to save yourself?”
“Wha’ was I supposed to do?” Danny blustered, finally speaking. “Rot in that hell for the next twenty years? I thought you’d want to help your brother out, or does family mean nothin’ to you?”
“I had no choice but to ‘help out,’” Clarissa retorted, advancing on Danny until she stood toe-to-toe with him. “Solomon didn’t give me a choice. And you deserved to rot in jail, Danny. You killed a man! I told you not to take that job, I told you it would go south, and I was right.”
“Dinna be throwin’ that up in me face again! The cop shot me first — I was just shootin’ back!”
“That’s a lie,” Langston gritted out. “You shot first and without hesitation.”
Danny studied Langston a moment before realization struck. “It’s you!” he said. “You’re the copper that arrested me.” He twisted toward Clarissa. “What the fuck are you bringin’ a copper here for? To send me back to prison?”
“Fuck you, Danny,” she spat. “I’m leaving. I’m through with you. Since Dad left, you’ve brought me nothing but trouble, and I’ve had it.”
“The hell ya are,” Danny growled. “Ya think I’m just gonna let ya walk outta here and let him put me back in jail?”
“That’s exactly what you’re going to do,” Langston interjected. “Or you and I are going to have a problem.”
“I’ll get my things,” Clarissa said. “And once I’m gone, I don’t ever want to hear from you again, Danny. What would Dad think if he knew you’d sold me out like that? We’re through, you and me. From now on, you’re on your own.” Disgust was evident in her voice.
In a way, she was relieved. For years she’d lived a life not of her choosing, thinking that’s all there was for her. But now Langston had shown her she could have more, she could have him, and she wanted it.
Clarissa turned away only to find her arm snatched by Danny as he yanked her back. She twisted to get away, then heard the smash of glass before he’d pulled her back to front against him, her neck in a choke hold.
“I’d hate to have to hurt ya, Rissa,” Danny said evenly. “But I ain’t goin’ back to prison.”
The cold glass of the broken beer bottle rested against her throat. Clarissa stared at the jagged edge in shock, then lifted her gaze to see Langston had drawn his gun and was pointing it at them.
They were frozen in the eerie tableau for several agonizing seconds, then Danny spoke to Langston.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen, copper. Me and Rissa are leaving. So you put your gun down and slide it real careful like over to me.”
“And if I don’t?”
Danny’s grip tightened on Clarissa. “I’ll start with her face before I move to her neck, mate.”
O’Connell’s expression was one of panic and terror, a combination Erik had never seen her wear before, and it only fueled his rage.
“You’re going to torture Clarissa, Danny?” Erik asked, trying to keep his voice calm and reasonable. “She’s spent the past year of her life trying to get you out of prison. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her.”
“Rissa knows you gotta look out for yourself,” Danny said. “Ain’t nobody else gonna give a shit if you live or die. Now put down the gun.” The panic in his eyes was one Erik had seen before, and it never boded well.
“She’s your sister,” Erik reminded him. “She’s your family.”
“Stop saying that!” Danny yelled.
Danny jerked and the glass scraped O’Connell’s neck. Her hiss of pain made fear spike in Erik. He couldn’t lose her. Not now that he’d found her again.
“Okay, okay,” Erik said, letting loose of his gun so it dangled in his hand. “I’m going to put down the gun—”
A pounding at the door made Danny start, and Erik winced as he saw the glass jerk toward O’Connell’s face. She pulled as far away as she could, but Danny’s hold on her was tight. Her eyes landed on Erik, and they were filled with tears she refused to shed.
“Police! Open up!”
What the hell? How had they known? They couldn’t have…but wait…
“Danny,” Erik said urgently, “where were you tonight?”
The pounding on the door got louder. Danny’s panicked gaze darted from Erik to the door and back. He didn’t answer.
“Danny, in a second they’re going to come through that door. And it won’t go well for you, not holding a hostage. Listen to me, Danny.”
Danny looked back at Erik.
“Think about what you’re doing,” Erik said. “All you have is
a bottle, and they’re going to come in with guns. You won’t survive it. You know you won’t.”
He seemed to hesitate. Erik pressed his advantage.
“Look, Danny,” he said, motioning with his head. “Look at what you’re doing to her.” Blood seeped from the cuts the bottle had made, the trails streaking O’Connell’s white skin. Her hands clutched at his arm as she tried to stay beyond the bottle’s touch.
Danny looked down, and he seemed to falter slightly as he saw O’Connell’s wounds. Erik took his chance, bringing his gun up and firing. Danny cried out in pain, the bottle dropping from his hand. He released her and clutched his shoulder.
The door burst open at the sound of the gunshot and Erik raised his hands in surrender, knowing he had to stand still though everything in him wanted to go to O’Connell. She stood, seemingly in frozen shock.
“I’m FBI,” Erik explained, handing over his gun to a cop and waiting while they searched him for his ID. As soon as they verified he was who he said, he rushed to O’Connell.
“Can we get some EMTs in here?” he snapped at an officer standing by. “She needs medical attention.”
“They both do,” the officer observed.
Erik wasn’t in the mood at the moment to give a shit about Danny.
“Are you all right?” he asked O’Connell. She was shaking all over and staring at Danny, who lay on the floor, unconscious now.
She raised her eyes to his and Erik winced, her pain-filled gaze cutting him as surely as the glass had cut her. She didn’t say anything, and Erik carefully folded her in his arms.
“Why would he do that?” she asked, her voice muffled by his chest.
“I don’t know.” Erik sighed. “Fear makes people do bad things sometimes.”
The EMTs arrived then and began working on Danny. Erik reluctantly released O’Connell so they could see to her wounds as well.
“How’d you find him?” Erik asked the plainclothes detective standing nearby.
“He robbed a liquor store a few hours ago,” the detective replied. “Surveillance footage gave us a facial recognition match, saw he was wanted for a prison escape. Used the traffic cameras and got lucky. Why are you here?”
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