Authors: Tessa Bailey
Tags: #police, #Romantic Suspense, #brazen, #line of duty, #erotic, #new york, #Contemporary Romance
idea of him fighting, looked distinctly
upset about the possibility. “If I did fight
for you, it would be the first time I’d
ever used my fists for something
worthwhile.”
Guilt shone briefly in her eyes.
“I’ll be right back.” He gave a
warning look to every male within
spitting distance. “Be good.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sera took a sip of her martini and tried
not to gag. It tasted exactly as the name
implied. Dirty, like it had gone past its
expiration date or been left in the sun too
long. Aware of the attention being paid
to her, she didn’t so much as flinch as
the liquid burned down her throat. God,
she’d kill for a Snapple to rid herself of
the taste.
She noticed a group of men sending
her covert glances. They looked drunk
and bored, a dangerous combination. In
fact, she had a suspicion they were
nominating someone to come talk to her.
She didn’t want to see how that would
go over when Bowen came back.
It would be foolish of her not to
believe he’d meant every word. His
jealousy,
his
possessive
attitude
concerning her, only grew by the hour.
And in turn, so did her desire for it to
keep
growing, which didn’t make any
sense when the thought of him fighting
bothered her immensely. When Bowen
kissed her, when he talked to her as if it
were them versus the world, she wanted
it to be true. The more time she spent
with him only made her confidence grow
that he was the man she’d never known
enough to hope for. He didn’t belong in
this world. He was a victim of his
circumstances.
Could she save him as she’d resolved
to do, or was she a victim of her
circumstances, same as him? Were they
doomed to part ways as enemies once
this ended?
Today had been incredible. Possibly
even the best day of her life. When
they’d just been two people without
deadlines or agendas coloring the air
around them, she’d been Sera with him,
not a nurse, or a cop, or a grieving
sister. Just herself. After the strictness of
boarding school and not knowing how to
connect with her uncle on the odd
occasion she saw him, being herself had
been impossible. She didn’t know who
she was. How ironic that while
pretending to be someone else, she
finally felt comfortable in her own skin.
“Buy you your next drink?”
The words were slurred to her right,
issued from the apparent nominee of
Drunk and Bored Central. She smiled
politely and shook her head, already
having learned while waitressing that
reasoning with a drunk man usually
meant a convoluted or inappropriate
response.
“Bowen and I are friends. He won’t
mind.”
“If that were true, I think you know he
would.”
“You talk pretty.”
Berating herself for opening her
mouth, she scanned the bar for Bowen,
but hadn’t seen him since he disappeared
into the back room a few minutes ago. A
group of young women standing outside
the ladies’ room caught her eye, though.
The last thing she wanted was Bowen to
come back and find this guy talking to
her, and the nearby ladies’ room looked
safe and close enough.
She slid off her stool. “Excuse me.”
Trying to blend into the wall, she got
in line behind the group of women, her
eyes immediately tearing up as their
abundance of flowery perfume hit her.
They sent her a few furtive looks, then
lowered their voices and huddled
closer. Fortunately, they appeared to
have knocked back a few drinks, much
like everyone else in Marco’s. Their
voices weren’t half as quiet as they
seemed to think.
Walks in here like she’s the first lady
of the United States or something.
Maybe, but
he
won’t be the president
for long.
Thinks he’s better than everyone…
we’ll see who’s better real soon.
He’s
gone
soft.
Now
there’s
something I never thought I’d say that
about Bowen Driscol.
My Nicky says after that score on the
ninth, everything is going to change
.
Denial thundered through Sera as she
absorbed
their
snidely
whispered
words, the implications of them. The
ninth…the ninth. She’d overheard that
same date mentioned in the hallway
above Rush when Hogan was still in
town. Combined with the women’s
conversation, it could only mean one
thing. Bowen and his crew were
involved in whatever Hogan had
planned for May ninth. It connected the
dots, finally answering the question as to
why
Bowen
and
Hogan
were
associating. But now a bigger, horrifying
picture came into sharp focus.
They planned to take Bowen out.
The shaking started in her knees and
moved up, higher until she trembled
against the wall. Paralyzed, her heart
seized in her chest at the image of a
vibrant Bowen lying lifeless on the
sidewalk. The trained fighting hands that
painted murals and brought her body to
life, never to be used again. Until
hearing his life was in jeopardy, she
hadn’t known exactly how deep she’d let
herself sink.
No, she couldn’t let it happen. She
hadn’t been able to save her brother, but
she could do something about this.
A sparkly pink cell phone twinkled at
her from inside one of women’s purses.
She murmured a quick prayer and asked
forgiveness
for
stealing.
Possibly
coveting, too. Then she snatched the
phone out of the purse. While they were
engrossed in a conversation that had
turned to which bar they would head to
next, Sera slipped away. Even as she
made sure to maintain a casual air while
walking through the packed bar, she
knew Bowen would be back any minute
and she needed to be quick. She didn’t
even want to envision what he would do
if he came back and found her gone,
although since every eye in the place
was watching her leave, he’d have no
trouble locating her. Hopefully they
would assume she was popping out for a
cigarette, instead of making the phone
call that would save Bowen’s life. A
phone call that could very well put the
kibosh on her investigation.
Thankfully she found the sidewalk
outside Marco’s empty. It wouldn’t stay
that way for long, though, so she needed
to get her nerves under control. The jig
would be up once she placed the call.
Her uncle would know what, exactly,
she’d done without his permission.
Would attempt to convince her it was an
overzealous crusade, possibly even try
to bring her out against her will.
Didn’t matter. Bowen’s
life
was at
stake. Her choice was clear. Sera
centered herself with a deep inhale and
dialed her uncle’s desk line at the
precinct. On a weeknight, he would be
working late, probably getting ready to
order Chinese takeout for anyone
working overtime.
True to form, he answered on the first
ring. “Newsom.”
The phone felt heavy in her hand.
“Uncle. It’s me.”
Silence. “Seraphina. What the hell is
going on?”
Something in his tone felt off, but she
didn’t have time to mull it over. “I don’t
have a lot of time, so try to keep the
lecturing to a minimum.” When she
tossed a look at the entrance to Marco’s,
a car idling at the curb caught her eye.
She squinted to make out the driver,
surprised to find Connor watching her.
Her hand went up automatically in
greeting, but he didn’t return it. An
uncomfortable feeling spread in her
midsection when he pulled away and
turned the corner at the end of the block
without so much as acknowledging her.
“Sera.” Her uncle’s impatient voice
brought her back to the present. “You
take last-minute personal vacation time
t h e
week
before Colin’s birthday and
don’t even check in? Where are you? I
demand a goddamn
answer
.”
“I didn’t plan this around Colin’s
birthday, but…” She closed her eyes.
“It’s fitting because I’m undercover with
Hogan.” The line crackled with static,
but her uncle said nothing. No shouting,
like she’d expected. “The ledger. I’ve
seen him with it. We know he’s good for
my
brother’s—
your
nephew’s
—
murder.” A touch of hysteria changed her
pitch. “So I’m here to get what we need.
Everyone else seems to have forgotten
what he did. Not me. Not—”
“Seraphina.” His voice was cold. “Do
you have any idea how reckless you’re
being?”
She waited for the order to come
home, but it never came.
Think about it
later.
Protect Bowen.
“May ninth,” she
rushed to say. “I don’t know what the
date means, but something substantial is
happening. Enough to warrant an
increase in bodies around Hogan…put
him on edge. I would increase
surveillance of the usual locations in
North Brooklyn.” A lump stuck in her
throat. “South Brooklyn, too. I’d suggest
putting out some feelers or tapping any
low-level informants you have. I’m
working on nailing down specifics.”
His anger crackled down the line.
“I’m just supposed to respond with ‘how
high’ when you say ‘jump’? This
department didn’t even
approve
this
vigilante investigation.”
“Bowen Driscol is involved,” she
added, before she could talk herself out
of it.
“Really,” he answered slowly.
Again, not the reaction she’d been
expecting. “Yes.”
A laughing couple spilled out onto the
sidewalk, holding each other up. Sera
walked a little farther away, ducking just
inside the alleyway running alongside
Marco’s. “Listen, I know it’s asking a
lot under the circumstances, but I need a
favor. Just agree to it without any
questions. Can you do that?”
“That’s asking quite a lot from
someone like me. I could have your
badge for this stunt, young lady.”
Her shoulders tightened at the
condescending endearment, but she had
to let it slide. She needed Bowen taken
off the street and arguing wouldn’t
accomplish that outcome for her.
Furthermore, she’d known going into this
her badge would be in jeopardy, but
relating that to her uncle would only
exacerbate his anger. “Just agree to it. I
wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t extremely
important.”
A long-suffering sigh greeted her.
“What is it?”
Relief rushed through her. “Pick up
Bowen Driscol for something, anything,
on the afternoon of the ninth. Whatever is
going down, he can’t be there. They’re
planning a hit. I only want him kept
overnight. No longer.”
Silence. “Since when do you concern
yourself
with
the
livelihood
of
criminals?”
Since I fell for one
. “Isn’t it our job to
protect people? Would you willingly
send a man into a situation when you
knew his life was in danger?”
He
scoffed.
“Sera,
you’re
too
idealistic for this job. Just like I’ve
always said.” A loud slam reverberated
down the line. “I should pull you out of
there tonight. Find a safe house and keep
you out of sight until the job can be done
right
.”
“You wouldn’t.” The hard edge to her
voice surprised even her. “You want
Hogan too badly and I’m close enough to