Risking it All (4 page)

come back. Leave behind everything

she’s worked for. But I don’t think that’s

what you want.” With a curse, Troy

threw the photograph down onto the

table. Resolutely, Bowen kept his eyes

up, refusing to look. Troy pointed down

at the picture. “This is your chance to

make up for the shit you’ve done. A

chance to do something good. Ruby sees

the good in you. Are you going to prove

her wrong?”

“
Fuck you
,” Bowen said through his

teeth, hating Troy with every cell in his

body for using his weakness against him.

He didn’t care about many things in this

world, but he cared about his sister.

Which is why he’d completely cut her

out of his life. “And while we’re on the

subject, keep her the hell away from me.

I don’t want to see her in the

neighborhood.”

“Still protecting her?” Troy asked

quietly. “We both know that’s my job

now.”

“Then do it. Keep her out of

Brooklyn.”

Troy

nodded

thoughtfully,

still

watching him closely. Wanting to escape

that observation, Bowen glanced away,

his gaze accidentally landing on the

photograph.

Everything inside him went still. He’d

scooped up the picture to get a closer

look before his brain registered the

action. “Who is this?”

“That’s the officer we’ve lost contact

with. Going on a week now.” Troy

lowered his voice, putting his back

toward the two-way glass. “She’s

investigating Trevor Hogan.”

Bowen couldn’t hide his astonishment.

“This girl? This girl with the freckles

and the rosary beads around her neck?

She’s undercover with Hogan’s crew?”

When Troy simply nodded, Bowen

cursed under his breath. He didn’t

understand the reaction he was having to

the photograph, but he couldn’t deny the

unwelcome surge of protectiveness. A

pretty brunette smiled up at him,

squinting into the sunshine, hand closed

around the cross at her chest. She didn’t

belong anywhere near the ruthless

Hogan, the man who had recently taken

over North Brooklyn. If he suspected her

for one second, she would be killed

without hesitation.

Bowen knew something Troy didn’t,

though. He and Hogan had an upcoming

deal, set to take place on May ninth.

Little over a week away. A shipment of

stolen computer hardware would land in

neutral territory, thanks to a Brooklyn

defector who had taken his theft

operation overseas. At their contact’s

request, he and Hogan were going to

split the hardware down the middle as a

gesture of goodwill between North and

South Brooklyn, since warring over the

goods would up his chances of being

caught. If Bowen wanted to cooperate

with the police, he had a perfect opening

to do it.

If
he cooperated? Jesus, was he

actually considering this? Absently, his

finger smoothed over the picture.

“What’s her name?”

“Seraphina.” Troy cleared his throat.

“Hogan killed her brother and walked.

Seems to me you can relate to wanting

what’s best for a sibling. Only she didn’t

get that chance.”

A wave of sympathy moved through

him. Could he do this? Turn…informant?

By going in and protecting this girl—

Seraphina—he kept himself out of prison

and let his sister keep her shiny new life.

And dammit,
someone
needed to bring

this impulsive rookie cop home, right?

This might be an old photo, but if she’d

retained an ounce of that innocence,

Hogan would have her for breakfast.

Who the hell was he kidding? There

was no choice.

“How long do I have to get her out?”

“The sooner the better. No more than

one week.”

Perfect timing
. “You have to tell me

what she’s looking for. I’m not going

into this blind.”

Troy lowered his voice. “Financial

records. A ledger.” He crossed his arms

over his chest. “Men have gone

undercover with Hogan before. They…

didn’t

last

long,

but

were

in

communication long enough to confirm

he keeps track of business by hand.”

Bowen decided it wouldn’t be wise to

mention he’d seen the damn thing

himself. He reached into his jeans again

for his packet of cigarettes. “Let’s get

this over with. I hate paperwork.”

CHAPTER THREE

Sera hated the man on sight.

But since hating another person was a

sin, she decided to
strongly
dislike him

instead. He’d walked into Rush,

Hogan’s nightclub, five minutes ago and

hadn’t taken his eyes off her once.

Nursing a glass of whiskey at the bar, he

somehow fit in and stood out at the same

time. He was in possession of a wicked

black eye, yet he’d walked through the

door with the confidence of a man who

doled them out, not received them. Tall

and broad-shouldered with the cut

muscles of a working man, he caught the

attention of women and men alike,

drawing looks of appreciation as well as

apprehension. The way he moved said

do not fuck with me
, louder than if he’d

shouted the statement. His dark blond

hair had been tousled in a way that

looked purposeful, like a woman had

just been holding on to it for dear life.

Sera shook herself, realizing she’d

been openly scowling at him. These

were not the type of thoughts she

normally had. She shouldn’t be picturing

a woman in the throes of ecstasy with

her fingers clutching some stranger’s

hair.

With

a

muttered

admonishment

directed at herself, she picked up her

tray and turned, resolving to ignore the

stranger. She’d been waitressing at

Hogan’s nightclub for two weeks and

she’d gotten no closer to incriminating

him. He’d given her a room upstairs and

ordered her to heal his cousin, whose

condition began to decline, much to her

alarm. She’d wondered if the man even

wanted to survive. She’d begged Hogan

to take him to a hospital, knowing the

action would ruin her chances of

bringing him down. No matter how hard

she’d pleaded, Hogan had refused to

pursue medical attention and against all

odds, she’d managed to stabilize the

patient after several days.

Once she’d made him reasonably

comfortable and he appeared to be out of

the woods, she’d thought Hogan would

send her packing. He’d thrown her an

apron instead. Whether he’d decided her

healing skills might come in useful in the

future or he simply didn’t know what to

do with her, she couldn’t decide. Not

having answers had begun to wear thin,

making her jumpy. She’d even requested

to be allowed to leave and return home

several times so she wouldn’t appear

eager to stick around, but he continued to

put her off, using his injured cousin as an

excuse to keep her there. Sera had caught

him watching her on a few occasions, a

thoughtful expression on his face, as if

he were deciding her fate. That cold

calculation unnerved her, and his

wariness hadn’t exactly been conducive

to her investigation, but she’d gotten a

glimpse of the ledger book early

yesterday morning. She refused to give

up her chance at him.

Hopefully, all of her time-biding

would come to an end tomorrow. She’d

overheard Hogan on the phone yesterday

as he sat at one of the tables in her

section. He was going out of town for a

week to check on operations at another

nightclub he owned at the Jersey shore.

If he let her remain behind to care for his

cousin, she would finally have her

chance to access the office downstairs

he always kept locked.

Against her will, her gaze landed on

the man at the bar again. Something

about him was familiar, but she couldn’t

place the reason for such a feeling.

Before he’d been appraising as he

watched her; now he simply looked

angry. Talk about confusing.

“Sweetheart, I’m dying of thirst over

here.”

Sera turned with a pasted-on smile

and cleared away the three men’s empty

pint glasses. “Same round again?”

Grunts served as her answer. With a

nod, Sera slipped through the rows of

tables to retrieve their order from the

bar.

At early evening on a Friday, Rush

had started to fill up, and she knew from

even limited experience the regulars

were demanding. Rush lacked any

similarity to the nightclubs she’d been

to, which was admittedly very few. No

frilly, overpriced drinks or coolly

sophisticated customers. Here, they

were

rough

and

suspicious

of

newcomers, herself included. After a

few shifts, they seemed to accept her

only because she was with Hogan.

Sera propped her elbows on the

wooden bar hatch until the bartender

scanned her through bloodshot eyes.

“Two bottles of Bud, one Carlsberg.”

“You got it, honey.” As he shuffled

toward the other end of the bar to drag

her beers out of the ice, Sera felt the

staring man move closer. It annoyed her,

the way her skin prickled as he

sauntered toward her, taking his sweet

time. She didn’t want to talk to him and

silently urged the weary bartender to

hurry up with her order. No such luck,

though. She’d be willing to bet he’d

never hurried to do a single thing in his

life.

“You know, if I were working for tips,

I might smile more.”

The words were spoken so close to

her neck, the small hairs at her nape

shifted, sending a wicked shiver down

her back. An unusual stirring took place

in her belly before exploding through her

veins, hot and liquid-like. Her lips

parted on a small gasp. At his audacity?

At her reaction to this stranger? She

didn’t know.

Pull it together. Play your part.

Allowing her lips to curve up at the

ends, she turned to give him a playful

retort, but the words died on her lips.

She’d just looked up into the most

strikingly handsome male face she’d

ever seen. His gray eyes were

noticeably tired, but intensely focused on

her, mouth tilted in a smirk. From a

distance, he’d been attractive, even with

the painful-looking black eye. Up

close…he affected her. A lot. Something

she definitely couldn’t afford while

needing to keep her game face intact.

Sera took a step away from him. “I

have a hard time smiling when I’m being

stared at.”

“Then you must not smile much,

because you’re a fucking stunner.”

Whoa. Huh?
The long pull of sexual

attraction in her stomach came as a

shock. That line had actually worked on

her? She’d never had a thing for

Brooklyn accents before, but the way he

pronounced stunner like
stunna
did

funny things to her insides. Or maybe the

sincerity in his voice had done it. He’d

said it like he
meant
it. Coupled with the

steady manner in which he watched her

now, the effect was potent. It figured that

the first man she’d felt a physical pull

toward would show up while she was

undercover.

Can’t do anything about it here. Put

him off.

She wanted to kiss the bartender when

he set her beers down on the bar.

“Excuse me. I’m trying to work here. I

have customers who need drinks.”

“Yeah?” He took a slug of whiskey,

throat muscles working. “Now I need

one, too.”

“You’re not in my section.”

Too late, Sera realized she’d said the

wrong thing. Setting his empty glass on

the bar, he swaggered past her toward