The guys seemed to think this was cause to joke. Spirits were high. She’d just had her tattoos finalized and they looked great. The guys considered this her initiation into the team. But, to her, she couldn’t be one of them until she told Ryske the truth.
Taking both of his hands, Harlow didn’t want to give the others cause for alarm, figuring that might prevent them from giving her and Ryske the privacy she wanted. Telling all of them together would lead to a flurry of questions.
She needed to tell Ryske. Alone. Giving him the chance to absorb and respond was the least she could do. It also wouldn’t hurt to forewarn him. Once he’d processed the news, he could help the others come to terms with what had happened.
Walking backwards, she led Ryske out of the kitchen. “Just five minutes, guys,” she said.
Ryske winked at her, then cast a look of smug contrition over his shoulder. “Twelve minutes.”
“Going to treat her twice?” Dover asked. Their cohorts laughed. With one hand on Maze’s shoulder, and the other on Noon’s, Dover directed both of them to the spiral stairs. “Send him down when you’re done.”
Harlow rolled her eyes at Maze, who exhaled as he started down the stairs. She mouthed her thanks to Dover who slapped a hand to the wall to kill the apartment lights. When the guys were gone, she dropped one of Ryske’s hands to lead him toward the closet.
“Bed’s over there, babe,” Ryske said when they went into what had once been the master bedroom. He wandered deeper into the room. She flicked on the light. Strolling in an arc, he came back to her and slid his hands around her hips. “You want to christen every room?”
He bowed lower, coming in for a kiss. At the same time his hands settled on her ass, just before his lips found hers, she spoke, “Jarvis Hagan is dead.”
He froze. For a second nothing happened. He retreated a few inches, his hands retracing their journey in reverse. Their eyes met. Giving him time to process, Harlow didn’t say anything, but when he didn’t either, she did nod to confirm she had said what he thought he heard. It was true.
Comprehension changed his mood. It literally crept across him, tensing each inch of his muscles until it reached his expression which became a frown.
Once his body was rigid, he seemed to stop breathing.
All she could do was brace for his reaction.
It burst out of him.
Spinning around, he leaped a stride away from her. “Fuck!”
Inhaling, a dozen emotions hit her at once. “I’m sorry!” she said because it seemed like the right thing to say. “I’m sorry, baby.”
Whirling to face her, he threw his arms up. “Why the fuck didn’t you come to me? Why the fuck did you let yourself—”
“It wasn’t like that,” she said. “It wasn’t like I—”
“What? Like you planned a murder?” he asked, holding up his hand to touch a finger. “That’s premeditation, baby. That’s murder one!”
“I know! I know!” she said, gasping in a breath. “I didn’t—”
“That’s twenty years to life! You get that? Twenty years minimum…”
The idea narrowed her throat. For a second, she couldn’t catch her breath. When venturing onto the path of revenge for Ryske, Harlow had known that prison was a likely end. It was that or death.
The gun she’d taken from Ryske wasn’t meant to be used in a crime, not unless she was in a desperate situation. After almost being raped by Hagan once before, it seemed like a sensible precaution to have some protection. But, going in there with a weapon, Ryske was right, that suggested premeditation.
“Okay,” Ryske said, inhaling a deep breath and blowing it out. “Okay. It’s okay, baby.”
Coming back to her, he gathered both of her hands and guided her across to the couch to sit them both down. Cupping her face, he pulled their mouths together to kiss her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“No,” he said, grazing his thumb along her jaw. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.”
When he brushed his fingers across her cheek, she noticed there was moisture smudged beneath them. She was crying and hadn’t even realized it. “Do you still love me?”
Clinging to his shirt, she pulled herself closer and blinked into his smiling eyes.
“Baby, I’d still love you even if you put a bullet in me.”
“That’s not funny,” she whispered, letting her fingers move over his shirt where his scar would be. “I would never hurt you.”
“Ditto,” he said, combing his fingers through the length of her hair. “You did the right thing telling me.”
“I didn’t want you to go out and hear it somewhere out there… I guess he was found this morning.”
“This happened last night?” he asked.
She nodded. Her mouth was dry and her fingers shaking. “I… I want to tell you everything, can you… Do you have time to listen?”
“For you,” he said, cradling her face. “Always.”
She smiled and kissed him. “I’m going to splash some water on my face… and I’ll get you some hard liquor. Wait here for me?”
His eyes rose to their top corners. “I’m trying to imagine where I wouldn’t wait for you.”
Keeping his hand, she got up, smiling. “If there’s time, we’ll have sex after.”
He kissed her knuckles and let her hand drift away from his as she retreated toward the door.
Sinking into the corner of the couch, he lifted one ankle to the opposite knee and locked his fingers together behind his head. That was the laidback Ryske she knew, smug and accepting…and sexy as hell.
“Oh, there’s always plenty of time for that, Trinket,” he said and winked at her.
Harlow felt better for saying the words out loud. At least she’d told him. That was the hard part over. Once she’d relayed the whole story, he’d be able to figure out the best course of action.
Finishing in the restroom, Harlow dried her hands and face and stepped into the dark living room. Before she could even turn around, flashes of blue and red filled the dark space. That could only mean one thing. Frozen on the spot, Harlow couldn’t focus. Those lights, the engine sounds, the distant sirens…
Ryske.
The first real thought her mind stuck on was about protecting Ryske.
The overhead light in the closet might be concealing the brilliance of the primary hues sweeping and flashing around this vast room. It also helped that the only window in the closet was to the front of Floyd’s. So, if the colored lights were only coming in from the rear, Ryske might not be seeing what she was seeing. Though, that felt unlikely.
There was no time to decide what to do. The light and noise got more intense, suggesting the number of vehicles was increasing. Floyd’s was in a high-risk neighborhood and the cops weren’t fond of visiting it. Coming here to bring someone down would mean bringing as much firepower as was available. Definitely more than was required.
Firepower.
Harlow didn’t want anyone getting hurt because of her. She tried to tell herself that she was overreacting. That maybe they weren’t there for her.
What sounded like a bullhorn whistled to life. There was a second of static before a strong male voice echoed through the walls.
“Harlow Sweeting!”
Well, there went that theory.
Beyond the chaos, movement in the closet focused her mind. Instinct made her dash over to turn the key in the lock, imprisoning her love.
“Oh God,” she whispered, and jumped when Ryske tried the door only to find it wouldn’t budge.
Rattling it, he pounded a fist on the wood. “Harlow! Open the goddamn door!”
“Harlow Sweeting,” the voice came through the bullhorn again. “If you are in there, come out with your hands up!”
Time seemed to slow. Harlow hadn’t expected this. She didn’t know why they were there or how they’d found her or why there was cause for such dramatics. Cops weren’t welcome in this part of town. It was do
ubtful they’d come into Floyd’s and ask for her politely. Law enforcement would expect the patrons would employ a strategy of shoot first, cover each other’s asses later.
Downstairs was a room full of criminals, some of them were part of her crew.
Raising her arm, she looked at her stars. “Until we’re dirt in the ground,” she whispered when the bullhorn went again demanding she come out.
Noise on the spiral stairs told her someone was coming up. So, she went the other way. Sprinting for the stairwell, she descended, taking the stairs two at a time until she burst out into the alley at the side of the building.
On three sides she was surrounded by walls. Blue and red light flashed at the opening to her far right and above the wall to the left. She really was surrounded. There was no avoiding the inevitable. Not that she’d ever run. No way. Ryske had threatened to confess to her crime. If she went on the run, he could do just that to save her ass, and she wouldn’t let him do that.
This was it. There was no time. If Ryske got down there before the cops got hold of her, he’d drag her inside, or one of the guys would, and her love would take the fall for Hagan’s death.
Kissing her fingertips, she touched the Floyd’s door one last time and then started down the alley toward the lights and the ruckus.
Swallowing her terror, adrenaline drove her forward, one step at a time. One more step, then another, until the alley opened out and the flash of glaring lights blinded her.
“Put your hands up!” a voice called out. Opening her arms, she let them rise slowly, showing that she had no intention of resisting. “Harlow Sweeting?”
“Yes!” she called over the noise of the cars. “I’m the one you’re looking for.”
Cops rushed to her, pulling her forward and yanking her arms around to her back. “You are being arrested on suspicion of the premeditated murder of Jarvis Hagan,” someone said and proceeded to read her rights.
The one who was talking stayed somewhere nearby. Another pulled her around to the back of the cop car and pushed her against it to frisk her.
The last words were repeated to her more than once. “Do you understand your rights as I’ve read them to you?”
A strong grip on her shoulder pulled her into a standing position. It was then that she saw him, all of them, lit up in the apartment window above.
Ryske was in front, with Dover at his back, holding his shoulders while Maze pressed one of his hands to the window frame. Noon had hold of Ryske’s other arm. They were restraining him. Just as she’d thought, he’d wanted to chase her. Maybe he had started to come after her, but the guys had dragged him back.
Ryske’s prophecy had come true. The guys were holding someone back while the cops took another of their crew in. Only Ryske was the one being restrained and she was being arrested. Tears trickled from her eyes. They didn’t overwhelm her until Maze shifted to show his row of stars. Dover did the same and Noon too. Ryske was the last; the others were reluctant to let him go.
Like he was made of lead, Ryske’s arm slid from where it had been pinned by Maze and landed on the window.
She couldn’t reciprocate because of the cuffs restraining her hands at her back. Making her lips curl in a smile, Harlow winked.
Someone gave her a shake. “Do you understand?”
“Oh,” she said while being manhandled into the back of the car. “I understand perfectly.”
In the backseat, she couldn’t see the guys in the upstairs window anymore. As far as she could tell, none of the cops had noticed them up there. Not that it mattered if they had, solidarity wasn’t a crime.
The sirens whooped and the car started moving. Harlow let her head fall against the side window. Twenty years was what Ryske had said. If she was convicted of murder one, her life would be over. Ryske would move on. Rupert too. She’d have no future outside of prison walls.
Harlow might not have committed the crime, but she knew every detail. Once again, she had a decision to make. Only this choice was new. To deal or not to deal?
Jail means a new way of life…
Making a deal means exposing her crew.
Something she’s unwilling to do.
Her freedom is lost. The truth remains hidden… but her love just won’t move on.
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Also by Scarlett Finn
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GO NOVELS
GO WITH IT
GO IT ALONE
GO ALL OUT
EXILE
HIDE & SEEK
KISS CHASE
THE BRANDED SERIES
BRANDED
SCARRED
MARKED
THE KINDRED SERIES
RAVEN
SWALLOW
CUCKOO
SWIFT
FALCON
FINCH
THE EXPLICIT SERIES
EXPLICIT INSTRUCTION
EXPLICIT DETAIL
EXPLICIT MEMORY
RISQUE SERIES
TAKE A RISK
RISK IT ALL
GAME OF RISK
HARROW DUET
FIGHTING FATE
FIGHTING BACK
MISTAKE DUET
MISTAKE ME NOT
SLEIGHT MISTAKE
STANDALONE ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
RELUCTANT SUSPICION
RESCUED
STANDALONE CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
GETTING TRICKY
HEIR’S AFFAIR
MAESTRO’S MUSE
REMEMBER WHEN…
RIVALS ON AIR
SWEET SEAS
THIRTEEN
XY FACTOR
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Go It Alone (A Go Novel Book 2) Page 29
