by Tessa Bailey
Backing away from him under the guise of wanting to look out into the backyard, she slowly dragged her fingers along the cool granite countertops. A pool…a garden. The high gate extended around the entire perimeter of the property. No way out but through the front. Good to know. Now stall. All she had to do was stall for a while. Easier said than done when dealing with a presumptuous dickhead who assumed he was moments away from a threesome. “It must get lonely in this big house with no one to share it with.”
He grinned cockily. “I get by.”
“Oh, I bet you do.”
“How long have you and Trish been together?”
“A long time.” She sent him a sly grin. “Since college.”
“Jesus.” He cocked a hip on the counter. “And do you do this kind of thing often?”
She smirked. “What kind of thing?”
After a long pause, they both gave a slow laugh. Stark began his prowl toward her again. Reassured by the piece at her back, she started to skirt around the kitchen island with a teasing look on her face. Just as she passed the kitchen entrance, Sera entered.
She wasn’t alone.
With her arm extended in a shooter’s pose, Sera backed into the kitchen with her gun pointed at none other than Tucker May. Who also had a gun pointed at Sera.
“Are you out of your mind?” May shouted. “Bringing people here with no warning? I’m a fucking fugitive, Max.”
To her left, Stark cursed vilely and threw open the drawer. In the blink of an eye, Erin removed the gun from her waistband and pointed it at Stark. “Looking for this?”
“Bitch.”
Erin clucked her tongue. “So unoriginal.” She edged toward Sera and pressed their backs together, ignoring the sharp pain that zinged down her limbs. “Here’s how this is going to work since we have two guns, you have one…and Chicago PD is already on the way.”
“Also, my husband and her boyfriend are coming,” Sera chimed in with a steady voice. “And they’re mean as hell.”
“Almost as mean as we are.” Erin was just starting to enjoy herself when an angry voice distracted her. It was coming from her pocket. Keeping the gun trained on Stark, she drew out the device. “Sorry, boys. I have to take this.” She put the phone up to her ear. “Hey, baby.”
She felt Connor’s rushed exhale down to her toes. “We’re on the way. Please just tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” God, it felt great to have someone concerned for her. Fucking great. “Tell Bowen his wife is a badass, too.”
Sirens split the air and Stark’s eyebrows hit his hairline. Reflected in the stainless steel refrigerator, she saw May drop the gun and run for it.
Erin grabbed Sera’s arm when she started to give chase. No. Too big of a risk. There could be more weapons stashed around the house. “Let him go. He doesn’t have a bolt cutter or a convenient power outage this time.” She let go of Sera’s arm, reached into her pocket and removed the remote control for the gate. “There’s only one exit and our boys will be there to meet him.”
The sirens were right outside the gate now. Sending Stark a wink, she pressed the button to let them in. “Honey, we’re home.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Connor watched Erin lick salt from her wrist, followed by her plump lips closing around a lime for a long, hard suck. Jesus H. Christ. A bar was the last place he wanted to be tonight. He didn’t mind the licking and sucking, but he wanted it done at home. Privately. His girlfriend, however, had kind of saved the day and she deserved to celebrate. That didn’t make him want to drag her home and reassure himself of her well-being any less. He wanted to praise her in his own way and it didn’t include Austin, Polly, and Derek, who shared the booth with them in the Brass Monkey, a bar two blocks from the police station. Bowen had scooped up his wife and vanished as soon as she and Erin had given their statements. He’d wanted to do the same with his girl, but he hadn’t been able. This was another new experience for her. Having a drink with friends, listening to music during happy hour, bullshitting. He would never take that away from her.
He’d even invited his mother to celebrate with them, although she hadn’t known if she could make it on short notice. It took his mom a good three hours to get ready for the supermarket, let alone a night out.
The restraining order against Erin’s stepfather had been filed this afternoon thanks to Derek’s pulling a couple strings. Hopefully it had already been delivered to Luther O’Dea’s door. It would have to be enough for tonight, knowing the man knew Erin wasn’t vulnerable anymore. That she had people who cared about her. That she wasn’t going to stand for his terrorizing behavior anymore.
Erin tilted her head back and met his eyes, her expression one of exhilaration. Damn, her beauty hit him square in the chest and he couldn’t even draw a breath. Every time she looked at him, he remembered dying a thousand deaths at hearing the word “gun” come over the loudspeaker that afternoon. They’d still been en route to the house, and his universe had flickered, then darkened at the possibility that he might never see her alive again. Her voice had been the only thing that kept him sane. She’d been so confident, so sure of herself. Enough for the both of them. It hadn’t stopped him from falling at her feet the minute he entered the house and saw her. True to form, she’d gone down on her knees, too, and met him halfway.
“You should have seen this poor fucker’s face when you kissed our Sera.” Austin waved a lime in his direction. “Priceless, it was. He didn’t know whether to be turned on or pissed off.”
“We know which one you were,” Polly commented. “You were like that horny cartoon wolf, eyes all bugged out. Awooooga.”
“Ah, now.” Austin tilted his head at Polly. “Don’t be jealous, love. You know I’d be your love slave if you’d only let me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can barely contain my feminine arousal.”
“Maybe I have it backward.” Austin chewed his red cocktail straw a moment before leaning in closer to Polly. “Maybe you prefer to be the love slave, hey?”
Polly flushed. “If you can switch it up so easily, I’m not interested. Other girls might not realize you only know how to play roles. But I do.”
Austin’s expression turned hard. “Are you calling me inauthentic?”
Thankfully, Derek chose that moment to return with a round of beers. After an afternoon with those two, Connor had enough bickering to last himself a year. Another reason he wanted to get out of this godforsaken dive and take Erin home to bed. The captain seemed to have the same idea, because he’d only dropped four beers off at the table.
“Heading out?” Connor asked.
“Yeah. My wife saved me a piece of chicken potpie for dinner. It’s the worst.” Funny, he didn’t look displeased by that at all. He looked like he couldn’t wait to get home and eat it. “Take a couple of days off. I’ll let everyone know when the next meet will be.”
Polly picked up a pint and saluted Derek. “To our fearless leader, who is turning out not to be an epic asshole like his brethren.”
“Give me time.” Derek leveled them all with a look. “And stay out of trouble.”
Erin reached for her beer. “What if it finds me first?”
Connor shook his head at the same time as Derek. “You’re my star pupil so far, O’Dea. Don’t screw it up.”
She turned her face into Connor’s shoulder but not before he saw her smile. The four of them sat quietly for a while, mostly speculating on what their next assignment would be and if Bowen would be twice as crazy now that Sera had seen some action. When Erin excused herself to go to the bathroom, she was forced to crawl over his lap to get out of the booth. His dick had already been hard from the way her hand rested on his thigh, but now it grew demanding behind his fly. Yeah, he wouldn’t last much longer in here. Time to let her know.
Erin glanced back in surprise when he rose from the table to follow her to the bathroom. “I don’t need a babysitter. Haven’t I proven myself to you yet?”
“Is this your way of telling me it’s time to go home?”
“Caught that, did you?”
He gritted his teeth when her smoky laugh vibrated her curves against him. “What’s wrong with right here?”
“This place isn’t good enough for you.” He gave a downward roll of his hips, satisfied when her head fell back and hit the wall. “I just wanted to pass on a warning.”
The inside of her thigh slid up the outside of his leg. “A warning about what, baby?”
Connor ran his tongue along her bottom lip, bit it gently. “I didn’t like hearing you flirt with Stark. Let him think he was going to get what only I take. My head knew you were doing it for a job, but the rest of me didn’t care.” He drew her leg up around his waist and ground his hips against her, drawing a whimper from her lips. “It’s going to be sweet reminding you all night that no one gets you but me. That includes Sera.” He petted her rounded ass with one hand, ending with a hard squeeze. “We’ll be dealing with that kiss later.”
After a long, deep delving of his tongue that left her clinging to his shoulders, he stepped back. Any more of her mouth and they would never make it home. Erin fell against the wall, breasts rising and falling. “Get the check.”
Connor knew he wore a self-satisfied grin as he turned to leave the hallway, but he didn’t give a shit. If you could make a woman like that moan, what the hell else did you need in life? Feeling the sudden urge to say something, he turned and found her staring after him. “Hey, sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m so fucking proud of you, I can barely stand it. You know that, right?”
Her laugh was pure joy. “Yeah.”
He stood there and watched her disappear into the bathroom, boots tinkling the whole way. Returning to the table with a smile on his face, he spotted his mother at the entrance, going up on her toes to scan the crowd. When she saw him, her face transformed with relief and she met him halfway across the bar.
“Son. This place could use a mop. You bring our girl here?”
“Hey, Mom.” He kissed her cheek, inordinately happy to hear his mother refer to Erin as theirs. “Late as usual, but you made it.”
“So.” She ignored his teasing and patted her neon-yellow head scarf. “Where’s the guest of honor?”
“In the bathroom. She’ll be right out.”
Erin stared at the wooden door of the bathroom stall, reading the various scrawlings that had been done with everything from Sharpies to knives. Megan loves Paul. Paul is a dick. Dick is a dick. She stood and used the toe of her boot to flush the toilet, felt the switchblade shift at her ankle. Experiencing the familiar urge to leave her mark, she embraced it, removing the blade and flipping it open. She thought for a moment, then carved the words, “Be the fire and you won’t get burned.”
The bathroom door opened and closed, bringing her back to the present. How long had it taken her to carve the words? Connor had probably sent Polly in to check on her. She shook her head even as it gave her a thrill of pleasure. Being cared for. Caring for someone else. She hoped she never took it for granted.
With one final glance at her handiwork, she shoved the blade back into her boot and pushed open the door. “Peeing is kind of a one-woman jo—”
Terror took root in her veins. Just inside the bathroom door stood her stepfather. He still had an abrasion on the side of his head where she’d clocked him with the skillet, but that wasn’t what chilled her most. It was the intention on his face. She was used to his disdain, but this was different. He was here to kill her.
She dropped into a crouch and snatched the blade from her boot just as he pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed it at her, forcing her to freeze before she could even flip her weapon open. Anger rose in her so swift and furious, she choked on it. She’d only just figured out what it meant to be happy and this man, this nightmare, would not stop coming at her. Would not just leave her in peace.
“You want the money? Take it,” she spat. “It will be a small price to pay for never having to look at your face again. I don’t need it. And I’ll sleep just fine knowing you’ll run out someday and be miserable all over again. Just take it.”
His laugh was almost indulgent. “That offer is late in coming, I’m afraid. Your little goon squad has closed ranks around you, so it’s not just you I’m contending with anymore.”
Dammit. The restraining order. It had set him off, just as she’d known it would. “What’s your other option? I’ve got a captain in the Chicago PD to vouch for my sanity. You’re nothing but a bitter, lonely man.” She already knew his plan. In his convoluted brain, he thought if he killed her, the money would go to him. Her next of kin. But she needed to keep him talking. Connor would find her. He’d be wondering what was taking her so long.
“I know you’re stalling, but I would advise against it.” His expression turned gleeful. “You didn’t think I’d come without leverage, did you? Oh no. You’re going to walk with me right out the back door without a problem. I promise.”
Her teeth started to chatter. “What is it?”
“More like who.” He started to speak faster, sounding more impatient. “That day at the courthouse wasn’t the first time I saw you in Chicago. No, I’d been following you longer than that. Saw you go into a building down in Lincoln Park.” Erin tried to show no reaction, but his sickening grin told her she’d failed. “I watched the building a while. Saw your boyfriend coming and going with his mother.” His hand flexed around the gun. “Drop the knife and the cell phone in your pocket. Get your ass up and come with me now, or I make a call and she’s gone.”
Erin’s heartbeat pounded in her ears, her mouth dry as dust. He could be lying. As far as she knew, her stepfather had always worked alone, and this plan would require another set of hands. But she couldn’t chance it. It was too in character for him to prey on weakened women. Goddammit. She couldn’t allow her life to affect the ones she cared about. She wouldn’t.
“Fine.” After letting the knife clatter to the dingy floor and digging out her cell phone to drop beside it, she stood with her hands up, tightening the muscles in her legs so they wouldn’t shake. “Lead the way.”
Luther cracked open the door and looked out before pulling back. “Ladies first.”
Erin swallowed hard as he shoved her through the open door. The hallway was a funnel of noise captured from the bar, but it was deserted of people. She thought of Connor kissing her there just minutes before and wanted to wail at the ceiling. The cold muzzle of her stepfather’s gun dug into the middle of her back, directing her in the opposite direction of the bar. A gated back door stood partially open, just beside the kitchen. The cook’s back was turned to them as they passed, his focus on a tiny television screen above a giant fryer.
They walked through the door and into a dim alley, music and laughter from the bar following in their wake. She peered through the night’s freshly fallen darkness for Luther’s car, but only saw a white panel van with no windows. He shoved her toward it so suddenly that she stumbled.
As if she’d never made an iota of progress, the wings started beating in her head, drowning out rational thought. Trap. He was going to lock her in that airless van and trap her. No, no, no.
When they reached the van, he threw the back doors open. And she saw it.
A cage.
“Get in.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was an odd feeling, being exasperated over the amount of time your girlfriend took in the bathro
om. Was it stupid that something so typical felt…good? Sure, there was an invisible countdown clock over his right shoulder, tick-tick-ticking away the seconds since the last time he’d put eyes on Erin. It would always be that way, because looking at her erased the bad in him. She was a signal of peace he need only think about, and the rapids inside him became a still pond. She’d turned his constant craving for control into something positive, because she’d given him the power to be in control of himself. A feat he’d had to accomplish to be with her.
And that made it his life’s accomplishment. This internal head-shaking versus pacing the floor was a healthy change. They would build on small milestones, like allowing her out of his sight for extended periods of time, until they had a fucking city.
“Erin must have fallen in,” Polly remarked with a smile and a good-natured elbow in his side.
Connor put the kibosh on his tingle of nerves. “She needs her space sometimes. Needs to…”
“Feel unfettered?” Polly nodded. “I get that.”
Connor picked at the beer bottle label with his thumb to avoid glancing toward the bathroom. Baby steps. “You don’t think it’s possible to actually fall in, do you?”
Polly’s answering chuckle cut off when her gaze fixed on something over his shoulder, the smile leaving her face in degrees. Connor pushed back from the table and jumped to his feet before his brain registered the command. Derek stood just inside the entrance. The captain held a cell phone up to his ear, speaking into it sharply as his razor-like gaze raked the table. He looked over and locked eyes with Connor.
“Where’s O’Dea?”
Connor was running for the bathroom before Derek had even finished posing the question. Knives twisted in his gut as he careered through the door and turned in a circle. Switchblade. Her fucking cell phone. On the ground. Bathroom empty. No Erin.
Gone. I let my guard down and now she’s gone.