by Tessa Bailey
Irritation blindsided her. “Kind of like I should be able to trust my own father, right?” She swallowed hard and climbed onto the bed, sidestepping her way across the pillows. “I don’t know what trust is—I only know what I was taught to think. Maybe someday I’ll understand what trust means, but I won’t be able to learn anything if someone puts me in a cell. Or returns me to my father for good.”
Rage slashed over his features and for a second, Ailish thought he might dive onto the bed to retrieve her. “I’d never let either of those things happen.”
“Why? Why do you care so much? You barely know me.” The gun was getting too heavy. She had to get away soon or her arm would drop. But it was suddenly imperative that she learn the answer to her question. It had been nagging at her since last night, and she’d only just acknowledged it. “This is just your job. I’m a job to you.” She nodded once. “Right?”
His stare penetrated, reached inside and rearranged vital parts. “Ailish—”
The cabin door burst open.
A gun was leveled at Ailish.
“NO,” Henrik roared. “NO!”
...
When Henrik was nine, his older sister Danielle took him to a carnival. As a preteen, she’d wanted nothing more than to gossip with her friends, and looking after Henrik had seriously cramped her style. Sick of listening to the girls talk about girl things—and tired of feeling like a burden—Henrik went off by himself, buying his way into the haunted house with his last ride ticket. He’d found nothing about it scary, even recognizing a few of the zombies from around the neighborhood. But there’d been this one bloodcurdling scream that had stuck with him. The recorded sound had swooped down on him as he exited the haunted house—and after hearing it only once, he could recall it perfectly.
His family believed he’d joined the force to follow in the footsteps of his father, a retired Chicago cop, but that wasn’t 100 percent true. Something about fear itself made him uncomfortable. Henrik rarely experienced the emotion himself, but he hated seeing it on other people’s faces. Or hearing it in their voice. To him, being a cop meant preventing and alleviating fear. That goal had always been general, not focused on any one person, until Ailish. She’d sucked every ounce of that driving force and commanded it for herself, without even realizing it.
She’d hidden it as best she could, but her terror had shown through in that interrogation room. Although he hadn’t been working the case, he’d talked his way onto the opposite side of the two-way mirror. He’d wanted to tear the roof off the precinct every time they were aggressive toward Ailish. Instead, he’d come back later that night and used a stolen code to break into the evidence locker.
That haunted house scream from Henrik’s memory sliced through his head now, deafening him until he could only hear a distant ringing. He was back in that makeshift carnival ride, the ground tilting beneath his feet, the air sticky with sugar. Ailish’s expression went from curiosity to dread, making waves crash into the sides of his brain. Gun. Gun pointed at Ailish who liked him but couldn’t believe him and he was already losing her and no, no, no, please don’t let this be happening.
Time sped up again as Henrik launched himself across the bed and dragged Ailish beneath his body. Muscle memory had him pinning the wrist holding the gun, but his mind zeroed in on her. Breathing. Okay, she was breathing. And moving. Alive. She was alive.
“Erin,” Henrik shouted over his shoulder. “Put the goddamn gun down.”
He watched as his blond teammate mimicked his order in a false man voice before holstering the weapon inside her jacket. “Maybe you didn’t notice, but she had a gun pointed at you first. I thought I was saving the day, as usual.”
Connor stepped into the doorway behind his girlfriend. “What the fuck.”
Erin leaned back against Connor. “Sorry, baby. I couldn’t wait for you to come back from the bathroom. Mafia Princess Runaway here was going to put holes in Henrik. Now they’re just cuddling, though, which is nice.” She reached up and scratched his beard without looking. “That’s where we’re at.”
Connor grunted and entered the room, his sharp gaze running over everything in the space of seconds. The ex-SEAL raised an eyebrow at Henrik and Ailish’s position on the bed, reminding Henrik he was probably crushing Ailish. Or maybe not, since her fingers were drawing circles on the side of his neck.
“Are you okay?” Henrik asked Ailish.
She nodded. “Are you?”
Good God, this girl was confusing. Until a minute ago, she’d been pointing a gun at him. Now she was asking after his well-being? “I’ve been better.”
“Right.” She wet her lips. “I’m not going anywhere now, am I?”
“I really don’t want you to.”
Ailish cast a sidelong glance at Connor and Erin, the latter of whom was perched on the dresser, hand cupped around her ear, making no attempt to disguise her eavesdropping. “I guess you better introduce me to your friends, then.”
Hating the resignation in her voice, Henrik allowed Ailish to scoot out from beneath him. She stood, smoothed her skirt, and held out a hand to Erin. “I’m Ailish. It’s nice to meet you. I forgive you for pointing a gun at me, since you were just trying to protect Henrik.” She heaved a sigh. “I wouldn’t really have shot him. Are you going to shake my hand?”
Erin looked slightly pale. “I’m working up to it.”
Not wanting Ailish’s feelings hurt, Henrik bent down to whisper in her ear that Erin had difficulty being touched due to a past trauma, but Ailish surprised him by giving Erin a firm nod. “Okay. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Erin muttered, scrutinizing Ailish with increased interest.
Connor stepped forward and shook Ailish’s hand. “Connor.”
Erin hopped off the dresser. “He’s my—”
“Boyfriend,” Connor finished for Erin, amusement flaring in his stoic face. “I’m her boyfriend. Sorry we gave you a scare.”
Ailish’s answering smile would have knocked the wind out of Henrik if he had any wind left. “Oh, you’re a couple. How nice.”
Needing some form of contact with Ailish, Henrik laid a hand on her hip, relieved as hell when she didn’t step away. But that relief did nothing to keep him from reeling. She’d been arrested on purpose. Had wanted to serve prison time, in order to ease guilt she likely didn’t need to feel. And he’d been the one to set her free. How would she react if she knew?
“What are you doing here?” he asked Connor and Erin, ignoring Ailish’s disapproving look. Right now he needed to be distracted from images of her getting hit by a damn bullet. And the fact that she’d been in the process of leaving when Erin and Connor showed up. Knowing he could have tracked her down or followed was of little comfort when men were out there looking for her.
Before the door had burst open, he’d been on the verge of telling Ailish everything. How he’d destroyed the evidence, how he’d been unable to cope with the idea of her in prison. So yeah, he also needed a distraction from the possibility that after he confessed everything…she still would have left.
Connor gave him a look rife with meaning. “Talk to you outside?”
Fuck. He’d known something was wrong. “Yeah.”
Ailish drew his attention by laying a hand on his forearm. “I—thank you. For trying to protect me.” She stared at the bed behind him. “I’ve gone my whole life without having a gun pointed at me, then it happens twice within the space of a week.”
He tilted her chin up with a finger. “It won’t happen again as long as I’m around, Ailish.”
“I don’t think that will be for long,” she murmured.
His brows drew together. “Why do you say that?”
Her eyes cleared, as if she’d broken free of a trance. “If Connor and Erin just wanted to talk, they could have called your cell.” She glanced at Erin, who was shuffling her boots in the doorway. “You’re here to take his place, aren’t you?”
“Guys.” Eri
n divided a look between Connor and Henrik. “Let’s keep her.”
God, I want to. Ailish’s intuition and his teammates’ lack of denial sent a prickle up the back of Henrik’s neck. “I’m not going anywhere without her.”
“You’ll want to hear me out first,” Connor said.
Henrik ground his teeth together and started toward the porch, but Ailish kept a hold of his elbow, drawing him up short. “Have your talk in front of me.”
Erin let out a low whistle in the doorway, turning Ailish’s cheeks pink. When she stepped close to him and dropped her voice, it took a massive strength of will not to back her into the bathroom and kick the door shut behind them. Just to have her to himself. “You can fix the…gap between us right now by not leaving me in the dark. I’ve been in the dark a long time and I-I resent it. Don’t make me resent you, too.”
“Ailish.” Henrik tipped his head forward and breathed. Shit. She didn’t know what she asked of him. This could repair the trust issue he’d created between them, or it could make an even bigger one. Depending on what Connor had to tell him, his involvement with her release from custody could come barking right into the open. With her safety at stake, he couldn’t risk her panicking, thinking he had a fucking screw loose, and taking off. Or resenting him even more for taking away the decision she’d made for herself.
Hell, maybe he did have a screw loose, because half of him was tempted to reveal everything and let the chips fall where they may. Unacceptable when lives were at stake in Chicago the longer Caine O’Kelly was a free man.
“You ready, man?” Connor prompted from the door.
Henrik let his hand drop from Ailish’s hip. “I’m sorry.”
He strode away, but not before seeing the disappointment break out across her pretty features. Swallowing the guilt, he stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him. “What’s up?”
“Oh, a few things.” Connor held up a finger. “One, Caine O’Kelly has been calling in all debts. Every one of his regulars from the south side to North Park has been paid a visit, O’Kelly looking to get what’s owed to him. Four bodies have turned up since yesterday morning, all with ties to the O’Kelly gambling ring.”
“The ones who couldn’t pay up.”
“Verdict is still out, but that’s the idea.” Connor shook his head. “This kind of behavior is unusual, even for O’Kelly.”
Henrik felt sick. “The increase in violence is connected to Ailish disappearing, isn’t it?”
Connor regarded him a moment, as if he didn’t want to deliver the remaining news. “It would stand to reason, considering he just issued a reward for knowledge of her whereabouts. A fucking big one.”
“Jesus.” Henrik’s impulse was to reenter the cabin, gather Ailish up and find somewhere less exposed, somewhere not even his teammates could find them. But he’d just snapped what little bond he’d built between them in two, hadn’t he? “We need to move her soon. If he’s that desperate to find her, it’s only a matter of time.” When Connor said nothing, Henrik stared out over the courtyard. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“Yeah. Enough that Derek didn’t think we should lay it all on you over the phone.” The ex-SEAL cleared his throat. “Look, Caine has approached two officers, separately, since Ailish split. Asking about his daughter, why no charges were filed. It’s likely Caine thinks she cut a deal with the police.”
Henrik closed his eyes and focused on breathing in and out. “So that reward he’s offering…it could very well be a bounty. On his own daughter.”
“Possibly.” For a moment, they remained silent until the ex-SEAL spoke up again. “When Caine approached those officers, he asked about you specifically, man.”
“Me?” Henrik’s mind landed on the only possible reason. “The department kept my involvement quiet, but not quiet enough to keep it from Caine. Maybe he already has a friend on the force.”
“Money talks louder than honor.”
“Yeah.” Henrik turned and braced his hands against the wooden railing. “Or maybe we’re wrong about Caine hunting Ailish. If he’s got a cop in his pocket, he could already know I destroyed the evidence against his daughter.” Henrik laughed without humor. “Maybe he wants to offer me a job.”
Beside him, Connor leaned against the railing. “Either way, we need to know. Derek wants you and Caine in the same room. That’s why me and Erin are here.”
Henrik pushed off the rail and started to pace. Goddammit. Ailish had been right. They wanted him to leave her. Already, the idea of driving away and leaving her behind made his skin feel too tight. “No, I need to be here.”
“One night, man. You know Erin and I won’t let anything happen to her.”
He didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to consider leaving. “Even if I agree, how the hell am I supposed to get into a room with O’Kelly?”
Connor gave him a meaningful look. “I think you know.”
At Henrik’s sides, his hands flexed into fists.
Chapter Seven
He’d left. Not even a casual good-bye from the man who’d made love to her belly button less than an hour before. If that didn’t signal she’d made the right decision in attempting to run, nothing did. She really shouldn’t be so worked up over Henrik’s lack of verbal communication, but her usual logic appeared to be lacking where the big ex-cop was concerned. Just as she’d been in her father’s home, Ailish was once again a prisoner. Wasn’t the definition of crazy to expect a different outcome from the same scenario? So Henrik appeared to be attracted to her? That didn’t mean his own goals didn’t take precedent over hers.
Yet since hearing his truck pull away, she’d vacillated between outrage and guilt. Why would he say good-bye to the person who’d threatened him with a loaded weapon? He was probably thrilled to be rid of her.
Screw that. She was glad to be rid of him, too. At the end of her pacing, Ailish kicked the cabin door, hard as she could, and listened to the conversation between Connor and Erin cease on the porch. Erin opened the door and swaggered in a moment later, Connor watching her backside appreciatively from his lean against the porch railing. Nighttime had fallen, and Ailish looked out at the courtyard and lake just beyond with envy. If this was freedom, freedom was overrated.
“You rang?” Erin said, making her way to the tiny kitchen where she flicked on the stove burner, running her hand over the flame.
“I need to get out of here.”
Erin flipped off the burner with a gusty sigh. “Enough said. Let’s go.”
Ailish straightened. “What? Just like that?”
“If anyone knows how hard it is to be confined, it’s this girl.” There was a note of gravity in her voice completely at odds with her somewhat giddy expression. “Leave Connor to me. I’ll meet you outside in five. For a walk. We’re not driving to Canada. Tonight, anyway.”
Not needing any more encouragement, Ailish knelt down to retrieve her tennis shoes from under the bed. She crammed them onto her feet, doing her best not to eavesdrop on the muffled conversation taking place on the porch, especially when Connor’s voice dropped in timbre and Erin moaned. It made Ailish think about that afternoon, what she’d done with Henrik. Her memory continued to replay the way he’d restrained her knee, squeezing it in his grip, even pinning it to the bed at one point to keep her from closing her legs.
He’d been so…commanding. Confident in every movement of his body, his…tongue, and oh, his teeth. Even though her abbreviated sexual exploration with the literature tutor four years ago hadn’t technically been satisfying, Ailish had always held the experience close. Treasured those too-short minutes of a man’s weight, frantic hands, the evidence of lust moving inside her. However, Henrik had shed light on a sad truth. Ailish had never been with a man. Not like him.
She’d actually sneaked into the bathroom to change her underwear afterward because the cotton had been clinging to her flesh. And once she’d pulled down the wet pair, leaving her bottomless in the small bathroom
, she’d been powerless against the urge to touch herself. Face buried in one of the hanging towels, she’d finished in minutes, replaying the scene with Henrik in her mind’s eye. Not just what he’d done with his skillful mouth. No, she’d thought of that part of him he’d kept behind his zipper. The part she’d felt against her bottom. A moving image of Henrik releasing his erection had sent Ailish hurtling past the finish line with a silent scream.
Feeling flushed at the memory, Ailish stood and curved a hand over the doorknob. Had it been five minutes? Ready or not, here I—
Oh, Connor and Erin definitely weren’t ready. For Ailish to make her exit, anyway. They were definitely ready for something. Erin had her legs wrapped around Connor’s waist and the man was using the porch railing to keep his girlfriend stationary as he thrust into the notch of her thighs. They were still fully clothed, thank God, but that detail did nothing to stop Ailish from being horrifyingly turned on.
“I-I’m so sorry,” Ailish stammered, stumbling backward into the cabin. “I’ll-just—”
“Wait.” Erin blew out a shaky breath against her boyfriend’s neck. “It’s okay.”
“The hell it is,” Connor grated.
With a secretive smile, Erin whispered something in Connor’s ear that had his head dropping forward onto her shoulder. One shaking hand started to curl around Erin’s neck, but it dropped onto the railing instead with a bang. After a long pause, Connor finally spoke. “You’ve got fifteen minutes for your walk. Any longer and I’ll come looking.”
Erin lowered her legs from around his waist. “Thank you, baby.” She winked at Ailish, exertion showing in her striking face. “Let’s go.”
Ailish and Erin followed a marked path down to the lake’s edge, Erin having produced a Zippo lighter from her pocket to illuminate the path. It didn’t escape Erin’s notice that a shiny silver Ruger was stuffed into the back of Erin’s waistband, but decided not to question it. After all, Ailish had her own Glock tucked inside the deep pocket of her jacket.
