Authors: Tessa Bailey
Tags: #police, #Romantic Suspense, #brazen, #line of duty, #erotic, #new york, #Contemporary Romance
get him. And we both know this job
should have been done by now.” She
reeled back her irritation. “Will you
pick up Bowen on the ninth or not?”
“Yes,” he returned in a clipped tone.
“Get what we need, Sera, so we can
have this done. This is completely
unorthodox and I’m worried about you.”
“I’m a capable officer. Please treat me
like one.” She pinched the bridge of her
nose. “I have to go.”
“You have one more night, Sera.
One
.
No exceptions. I’ll wait for your call.”
She hung up, emotions warring inside
her, the most annoying of which was the
unwanted warmth she got knowing her
uncle was worried. He’d taken her
father’s place at such a young age, but
had
never
shown
her
anything
resembling fatherly concern. Right now,
when fear was creeping in, she wanted
to bask in it.
No time.
A car pulled up at the curb,
interrupting her thoughts. One glance at
the occupants of the vehicle had her
turning on a heel, heading back toward
Marco’s at a brisk clip. There were four
men, none that she recognized. A single
glance at them told her she needed to be
inside before they exited the car. One of
them tapped a baseball bat on the
dashboard, his mouth stretching into a
smile as he looked her over. A whisper
of apprehension moved up her spine,
intuition telling her they’d come to
Marco’s to start trouble and she was in
the wrong place at the wrong time.
Before she could reach the entrance,
two of them jumped out of the passenger
side and lunged in front of her, blocking
her progress. The first thing she noticed
were their injuries. Swollen purple
discoloration under one man’s eye.
Another’s arm wrapped in a plaster cast.
It set off warning bells. “Where you
going so fast, cutie?”
“Excuse me.” A third man circled up
behind her, so she pressed her back to
the wall. “Let me by.”
The man holding the baseball bat
ignored her. “You belong to one of the
assholes inside? That’s bad luck for
you.”
Crap.
Just as she’d feared, they
weren’t from this neighborhood, which
meant they’d likely come to retaliate for
something. It came back to her then.
Bowen’s conversation with Wayne the
day he came to the apartment. His
subsequent disappearance while she
waitressed at Rush. These men were
here to issue payback, and now her
impulsive butt was caught in the cross
fire. She knew how to handle herself, but
there were too many of them and they all
had weapons. Silently, she begged
someone, anyone, to walk out the door
and interrupt.
“I don’t belong to anyone.” She shrank
back on purpose, appealing to their
overblown arrogance, while also making
sure they underestimated her. If their
goal was to get her into that car, she
would fight them with every ounce of
strength in her body. Having surprise on
her side would come in handy. “Please,
just let me go.”
The man holding the bat laughed and
ran the coarse wood up the inside of her
leg. “Oh, you definitely belong to
somebody. You think he’ll miss you?”
Before the bat could reach the apex of
her thighs, she smacked it away.
Knowing the attempt might be useless,
she tried to pass one more time. Purple
Eye snaked a hand around her elbow and
yanked her to a halt. “We were parked
down the block and saw you walk in
with Driscol. Get in the fucking car.”
Someone inside the car pushed open
the back door, letting out a whoop. “Our
turn to send the message, isn’t it? Come
on in, girl. I’ll keep you warm for him.”
Sera
breathed
deeply
as
they
propelled her toward the car, putting up
only a token resistance. As soon as they
were under the false impression that she
would be coming without a fight, the
hand on her elbow loosened. That’s
when she acted.
She snatched the baseball bat out of
the man’s hands, swinging it in a large
arc to give herself some room to
evaluate. Two of them jumped back,
having been caught off guard, but it
connected with Purple Eye’s rib cage.
He let out a vile curse and went down on
one knee, allowing Sera a few precious
seconds to focus on the other two men.
The man wearing a cast on his arm
circled up behind her, actually laughing
at her attempts to fight them off. Trying
to keep an eye on both men, she backed
up a little, waiting to see who would
come at her first. Unfortunately, the more
she backed up, the farther she got from
Marco’s, so she couldn’t let herself get
too far.
“He should have taken better care of
this one. She’s spirited.”
“Yeah, too bad,” the man in the cast
spat. “Let’s go, girl. Only a matter of
time, anyway.”
Laughter poured from inside the car,
as if the occupant couldn’t believe his
friends’ inability to subdue her. It
visibly pissed them off. Purple Eye
launched himself from the ground and
barreled straight for her. She brought the
bat down hard, but he dodged it and
wrapped a meaty arm around her waist.
Not wasting a second, she brought her
foot down on his instep and threw her
head back, connecting with his nose. The
two other men converged on her, just as
Purple Eye’s arm fell away with a shout
of pain.
“
Bitch
.”
The bat was ripped from her hands to
clatter on the ground a few yards away.
Saying another quick prayer that
someone would come out of Marco’s,
she threw a punch at the closest man,
satisfied when she felt the crunch under
her fist. She didn’t have much time to
celebrate landing a decent blow, though.
A hand wrapped around her throat from
behind, squeezing tight enough to cut off
her air. Reflexively, her fingers tried to
pry the hand away, but she couldn’t get a
grip. Her vision began to flare in tiny
spots as air ran scarce. She had to make
a move. Now. After taking a second to
judge where his body was positioned so
she could inflict the most damage, Sera
got ready to let her body go limp. When
she caught him off guard, she’d spin and
go for his testicles. Three…two…
Smash.
The front door to Marco’s
flew open, hitting the side of the building
with enough force to splinter the wood.
Through her dimming eyesight, Sera
made out several men’s silhouettes,
including Bowen’s, before his ferocious,
earsplitting shout of denial rent the air
around her. It startled the man choking
her enough that he eased up on the
pressure, allowing her to suck precious
oxygen into her lungs. She caught herself
just before her knees met the concrete,
but her relief quickly gave way to
horror.
Guns were drawn in quick succession,
from both crews. Bowen held one in his
outstretched hand. Sera didn’t know
what was worse, the inevitable gunfire
or Bowen’s expression. She barely
recognized him. Never in her life had
she seen someone so capable of murder,
his body drawn tight, pupils dilated.
Everyone in the vicinity sensed it, too.
Each and every eye trained on him,
waiting for him to react.
No
. Sera wanted to rail over the
unfairness. She’d been trying to save his
life and in the process, she’d put him in
a situation where he could very well
commit murder. In front of her, an
undercover cop.
Don’t let it happen
.
“Bowen,” she whispered, taking a
hesitant step toward him.
His haunted gaze made her flinch. She
could see the emotional battle taking
place on his face. Finger poised on the
trigger, he clearly wanted to fire on the
man who’d been holding her. Without
saying a word, he tore his attention away
from her, indicating her captor with a
nod of his head. “He doesn’t go
anywhere.”
Sera shivered under the iciness of his
order. As she watched, the group of men
behind Bowen converged on the car,
keeping their weapons trained on the
intruders. Two of Bowen’s guys
lowered their weapons in favor of
wrestling her captor to the ground. His
friends watched helplessly, unable to
lower their weapons and help their
friend or they would risk being shot.
Finally, one of them cursed and shoved
his gun into the waistband of his jeans,
the others quickly following suit. They
piled back into the car, leaving their
friend behind as they peeled away from
the curb.
Bowen jerked his chin at two men in
his crew. “Follow them. This ends
tonight.”
As they jogged off to follow Bowen’s
dictate, he sauntered forward. Almost as
an afterthought, he picked the bat up off
the ground and went toward the man
who’d been left behind. Dozens of
patrons had spilled from Marco’s to
witness the action, and they all watched
in rapt silence now as Bowen tapped the
bat against his palm. Every tap felt like a
physical blow to Sera, who wanted
desperately to wrap her arms around him
and beg him to stop, but she couldn’t
move. This man, this frozen, rage-filled
version of Bowen…she didn’t know
him.
He came to a stop directly over the
left-behind crew member, twirling the
bat in his hand. His gaze met hers for a
brief, heavy second before he raised the
bat and brought it down with enough
force to make her gasp and jump back.
Her heart raced out of control, breath
shallow in her ears. She was terrified to
watch, to see the death her decision had
caused.
The bat connected with the sidewalk
beside the man’s head, sending shards of
wood in every direction. Some members
of the crowd reacted with relief, others
with disappointment. The latter made her
sick even as thankfulness swamped her.
He hadn’t done it.
Her stunning relief was short-lived.
Bowen crouched down and looked the
cowering man square in the eye. “
You
.
Are a dead man.” Slowly and
purposefully, he rose to his feet and held
out a hand to her, his attitude daring her
not to take it. She swallowed the hard
lump in her throat and slipped her
fingers against his cool palm, resisting
the urge to snatch her hand back when
she heard his low growl. One second
she had both feet planted on the ground,
the next he’d swung her up into his arms
to carry her toward his car. She mentally
begged him to look her in the eye as he
settled her into the passenger seat and
shut the door. Through the closed
window, she heard him shout to his men,
his words falling like boulders on her
chest.
“You know where to take him. I’ll be
there as soon as I can.”
His order left no doubt as to what
would happen when he got there. He
planned to kill the man for what he’d
done.
Sera vowed then and there she would
do everything in her power to stop him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Twice in his life, he’d been scared.
The first time, his father had pointed a
gun at Ruby. He’d been on the floor with
a freshly broken arm, too far away to get
between his sister and the bullet. From
his position, he’d watched resignation
transform her features, features so
similar to his. It had been such an
obvious acceptance of her own death,
he’d almost looked away so it wouldn’t
be etched on his memory, but somehow
he’d
forced
himself
to
continue
watching. Somehow it would mean she