by Tessa Bailey
Another, longer pause wherein Henrik could hear a leather creak, signaling the captain leaning back in his chair. “All right. Why don’t we start with last night? Did you make contact with Caine O’Kelly?”
“I did.” Henrik willed the knot in his throat to shrink. “He offered me a job with his crew. But I need to prove I’m an asset first by tracking down his daughter and returning her home.”
Derek’s laughter rang hollow. “I’ve never been more sure there’s a leak in my department. O’Kelly wouldn’t assign you that specific task unless he knew you’d thrown yourself on the sword for his daughter. I hope you weren’t followed from Chicago.”
“You know damn well I made sure I wasn’t followed. And yeah, it’s possible someone clued him in. Although I didn’t get the impression he’d made the connection between his daughter being cleared and me losing my badge.” Just saying the words out loud caused an unpleasant tightening at the back of his neck. “He’s not the kind of man who plays games. He would’ve called me on it.”
A rapping noise in the background, like knuckles on wood. “I’m afraid to ask why you’re really calling.”
“You know why,” Henrik said. “I’m not sacrificing her to that son of a bitch.”
“Are you talking about me or O’Kelly?”
Henrik switched the phone to his other ear. “That remains to be seen.” A breeze from the lake blustered a pile of pine needles into a mini cyclone, a few feet from Henrik’s feet. “If you can offer her a deal, I might be able to convince her to provide information about Caine’s operation. But she better walk out of the station afterward. Without a police record.”
Henrik could sense the captain’s dissatisfaction. “What information does she have that I’d be interested in? I’d be a fool to agree to a deal without any knowledge beforehand.”
“You’ll have to take my word for it,” Henrik said. “I’ll go undercover with O’Kelly and do the dirty work. But I need her protected to my satisfaction while I’m inside. Caine has men looking for Ailish as we speak and I’m not convinced he wants her unharmed. But you need to find me something else of value to offer O’Kelly, because it’s sure as shit not going to be his daughter.”
“What if I don’t agree to that? Connor and Erin are a phone call away. They can bring Ailish in just as easy.”
“You’d put two of your squad members in danger like that?”
“In danger from you?” Derek blew a breath down the line. “You haven’t been thinking straight since this girl showed up. You might be doing yourself a favor bringing her back to dear old dad.”
Henrik’s hand tightened on the phone. “You don’t want to suggest that again.” Against his better judgment, Henrik gambled with a rumor he’d heard years ago about the captain, knowing it could be his trump card if true, even if guilt was already weighing down his shoulders. “Your own wife stole fifty grand from another version of O’Kelly once, didn’t she? Would you have returned your wife to that man just to create an opportunity to go undercover?”
“Don’t you ever speak about my wife again.” Derek’s voice vibrated down the line. “But while we’re on the subject, my wife didn’t have the ability to make an entire city safer the way Ailish does. You’re impeding an investigation, Vance, and in case you don’t realize it, you haven’t hit the bottom yet. I can make that happen. Or I can make the reverse happen.”
No way was he backing down now or bowing under scare tactics. “I’ve given you my terms. Ailish comes back to Chicago and cooperates—outside her father’s house—in exchange for a deal, or you lose her as an asset completely. What is it going to be?”
When a full minute passed, Henrik wondered if the captain had disengaged the line, but he finally spoke. “Just answer me one thing. Is she worth losing the chance to be reinstated? Because there’s no guarantee Caine gives you a shot without her in tow, and that would stop this investigation cold.”
The sunshine above glowed too bright. Being reinstated would mean eventual approval once more from his family, a return to normalcy, and the career he’d been groomed for since birth. Exactly what he wanted, and yet he delivered his answer without hesitation. “Yes, she’s worth it and more.”
Derek’s sigh was sharp. “Very well. She’ll get her deal, but I want you both back here by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I’ll find something to offer O’Kelly that isn’t his flesh and blood.”
Had the captain’s agreement been a little too easy? Derek Tyler had always been a man of his word, though. Hell, he’d given Henrik a second chance, and that alone demanded as much loyalty as he could give without sacrificing Ailish. “We’ll be there.”
As Henrik hung up the phone, he was already walking back up the path, eager to be close to Ailish. Eager to explain the deal he’d worked out with the captain. She would be safe. Always. When he’d left the cabin, her disappointment over being kept in the dark had hung in the air like smoke, but he could clear it away now. It might take some convincing that the squad could keep her safe until O’Kelly was put away, but they would get there. If anyone could keep Ailish hidden and protected, it was a crew of cons with access to police department technology.
When the cabin came into view and Henrik saw the door wide open, no sign of Erin, an uncomfortable sensation whispered down his back, forcing him to pick up the pace. The blonde walked out a second later, lighting a book of matches one by one and dropping them to the ground, where she put them out with the toe of her boot.
“Ailish,” Henrik bellowed, just as Connor stepped out of the cabin behind Erin, narrowed eyes fastened on his girlfriend. Bad sign. That was a bad fucking sign. “Where is she?”
“She sneaked out while I was using the bathroom.” Erin pointed toward the wooden area to the cabin’s left. “But I think she went thataway…” She tapped a finger to her chin, then pointed it the opposite direction. “Or maybe that way.”
“Dammit.” Henrik dug the keys out of his pocket and sprinted for the truck. He’d left his stomach somewhere on the dirt courtyard, the blood rushing through his veins so fast, he felt dizzy. His fury that Erin had let Ailish slip away was eclipsed by frustration at himself. This was on him. When was he going to learn that Ailish wouldn’t blindly trust him without a reason? Now, twenty minutes might have ruined any chance he had to help her, to…keep her.
No. No, he wouldn’t let that be the case.
He stomped down on the gas pedal.
Chapter Eleven
Ailish was being followed. Not by Henrik, although she suspected at this point the man was hot on her heels. Not by Erin or Connor, either. No, the hair on the back of her neck was in permanent prickle mode because of the white sedan she’d seen three separate times since arriving in town. It had passed by once as she entered a convenience store and been parked across the street when she walked back outside. The same women who’d given her the ride to town were driving to a fishing boat rental center and had agreed to take her along, but they were taking their time shopping for supplies. Hunkered down in the backseat of their Jeep, Ailish watched the white sedan through the rearview mirror, where it sat with the motor running half a block away.
In addition to her quick convenience store run, Ailish had bought a one-way ticket to Detroit at the adjacent bus station, hoping it would throw anyone looking for her off the scent. She was learning, getting better at getting lost and staying that way. And while it gave her a sense of accomplishment to be problem-solving on her own, making her own decisions, a knot continued to tighten in her stomach. Had running away from Henrik been smart or impulsive? There was no denying that Henrik wanted to keep her physically protected, no matter what gray areas existed between them. Now, with the white sedan idling in the rearview, Ailish couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made herself more vulnerable by trying to be strong and independent. The kind of person she’d always hoped to become when she could get free of Chicago.
When the white sedan left its spot at the curb, intuition had Ailish sinking down further on
to the vinyl seat, until her knees bumped the front row. Pass by, please just pass by.
It didn’t.
Ailish stopped breathing as the white car pulled into the now-vacant parking space behind the Jeep, creeping forward slowly and nudging the bumper.
“Shit,” she whispered, rubbing damp palms against the hem of her shorts. Staying low, Ailish reached an arm through the console and locked both doors of the Jeep, before peeking out the curbside window and noticing that the busy sidewalk had cleared somewhat since she’d reentered the car. No witnesses. No one to help her. Not that anyone could if the person behind the wheel had been sent by her father. They were well versed in the art of snatching people off the street, and they didn’t usually care who was watching. Dammit. Ailish dropped a hand and pulled out the T-shirt-wrapped gun, tearing away the cotton with shaking fingers and flipping off the safety.
Both the passenger and driver side doors of the white sedan opened, two men stepping out of the vehicle whom she instantly recognized. They were longtime associates of her father, had even driven Ailish to high school on occasion. Men who had stood guard outside her bedroom for months after her failed attempt to run away. Like most of her father’s men, they thought her a nuisance. Or they had, until she’d grown up and begun employing a different method of acting out. Teasing. Something for which their resentment had been plain—and just then, Ailish wished she could go back in time and have a stern talk with her past self.
That regret snapped her spine straight. She’d been a veritable prisoner inside her own home, and these men had been complicit with her father in maintaining that situation. It would be a cold day in hell before she went anywhere with them. And she damn well wasn’t going to regret things she’d done in the past. Learning to accept herself for all her faults was part of her newly discovered freedom.
Ailish took a steadying breath as the two men drew even with the Jeep’s back windows. She focused on the more intimidating of the pair—Gordy—and allowed her index finger to rest on the gun’s trigger. When Gordy spotted her hunkered down in the backseat, he threw his head back and laughed, joined by his partner a moment later. His reaction lit indignant sparks in her gut, but Gordy’s reaction told her he hadn’t seen the gun, at least.
Gordy’s partner, Vick, rapped his knuckles against the window, making Ailish’s heart go wild, her throat refusing to let her swallow. They were both attempting to open the front Jeep doors when Ailish’s unlucky companions emerged from the convenience store, their arms wrapped around brown paper bags as they chatted. Their stride came to a dead halt when they saw the two men, however.
“Hey, that’s our car.”
Ailish could barely hear over the pounding of her pulse, but when the three women started backing away on the sidewalk, she knew Gordy had said something threatening. Guilt over leading three unsuspecting Samaritans into her problems tried to invade Ailish’s fear, but she tamped it down. Deal with it later.
Gordy pulled a handkerchief from his right pocket and wrapped it around his fist. “Come on out, little girl, or we’ll drag you out,” he growled, his voice cutting right through the stillness inside the Jeep.
Only a small hesitation on Ailish’s end had Gordy lifting his fist, obviously intending to punch through the glass. Knowing once they gained entry to the car, she would be out of luck, Ailish raised her gun, just before Gordy could connect with the glass. He stopped cold, staring at her weapon, almost in fascination. Then the corner of his mouth ticked up.
“Oh shit, Vick. Someone grew a pair since leaving Chicago, huh?” He jerked his chin toward the opposite side of the Jeep. Ailish only had to turn her head slightly to see that Vick was now pointing a gun at her through the glass. Nowhere to go. She couldn’t fire or she’d be fired on. Trapped. Again. Dammit. Even if they were under orders to bring her back alive, they wouldn’t hesitate to return fire if she pulled the trigger first. They were stone-cold criminals first, loyal to her father second.
“I can pay you,” Ailish shouted, using the first stall tactic that came to mind. “Just get me to an ATM.” If she could just buy herself some time to get away. Or…or for Henrik to find her. Please God. As soon as she acknowledged that second possibility, the guilt would no longer be held at bay. This is why he’d had her guarded inside the cabin, why he’d been so protective.
“If we take you back, we’ll be made men, little girl. That means we’ll get to send people on these shit jobs, instead of doing them ourselves.” Vick tapped the muzzle of his gun against the glass. “I’m looking to fish for a lifetime, not eat for one day. Get the fuck out of the car.”
What were her choices? She didn’t have any. But if she went with them now, she would at least have chances to escape on the way back to Chicago, right? But dammit, she hated surrendering to these men. Loathed it.
She licked away the sweat that beaded her upper lip and smoothed a finger down the gun’s trigger. It was obvious that neither Gordy nor Vick liked being exposed on the street with weapons and were starting to get nervous. Maybe all she had to do was wait them out. They were shifting on their feet, getting restless, scanning the street with calculated eyes.
Just as a glimmer of hope started to appear, it was doused by glass exploding to her left. And then to her right. An arm snaked in through the passenger-side window to unlock the door, a split second before a hand wrapped around her right ankle. The passenger seat slid forward on its track and Ailish was yanked off the seat, the back of her thigh scraping over the bolted track, making her scream out in pain, alarm. Enough alarm to lift the gun and point it at Gordy’s head.
Everything went still. So still.
Horror kept Ailish from immediately pulling the trigger, however. She didn’t want to be like these men. Didn’t want to be a murderer. “Please,” she said through clenched teeth. “You never saw me.”
Gordy leaned down, his face hovering right in front of the gun’s barrel. Unconcerned, possibly even excited by the weapon pointed in his direction. “Pull it. I dare you.” When Ailish still couldn’t bring herself to tighten her finger, he laughed. “You always were a tease.”
He fisted the front of Ailish’s shirt and jerked her out of the car. She stumbled right into Vick, who still held his weapon, tucked just inside the opening of his jacket. Passersby ran in the opposite direction, vanishing into shops. Good. At least they wouldn’t be punished for being witnesses. Gordy propelled Ailish toward their white car, still idling at the curb, but before she could open the door and climb into the backseat, a truck roared down the street. Henrik’s truck. Followed by another dark blue SUV—Connor and Erin?
Refusing to let relief process itself—her friends were now in danger because of her—Ailish went on pure instinct and ducked behind the white sedan, just as the truck and SUV drew even with them. In her peripheral vision, Ailish could see that Vick still pointed his weapon at her, but he dropped to his knees, then down to the concrete before Ailish could even raise her own weapon. Red bloomed on the front of his shirt as his gun clattered to the ground.
Tires squealed as Ailish was scooped up from behind, two hands curling beneath her armpits. A quick over-the-shoulder glance told her it was Erin.
“Come on.” As gunfire volleyed between Henrik’s truck and Gordy from his position ducked down behind the Jeep, Erin pulled her gun and aimed it at Gordy. But instead of pulling the trigger, she handed it to Ailish. “You’re up, Mafia Princess. Henrik just saved your ass, now you save his. That’s how it works.”
Ailish didn’t think—she didn’t need to. If Henrik was hurt because of her, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. With a deep breath, she let the loud sounds and whispered instructions from Erin melt away, and she pulled the trigger.
The moment Gordy dropped, silence reined. And then they were running. Erin hustled Ailish to Henrik’s truck, threw open the door, and urged her inside before jogging back to the SUV.
Ailish only caught a peek at Henrik’s livid expression before tires squea
led once again and they were zooming down the small-town street toward the highway.
...
“Are you okay?” Henrik managed through lips gone numb. Don’t think about what would have happened if you’d arrived ten seconds later. Don’t think about it.
If he lived another thousand years, he would never witness anything more terrifying than Ailish being taken away at gunpoint. His stomach protested, urging him to pull the car over and empty its contents, but he breathed through the nausea and kept driving. They had to keep moving. Who knew what kind of small-town sheriff could be a mile behind them, sirens blaring? Derek held no jurisdiction here, leaving them solidly on their own should they be stopped. Connor had already taken the first exit off the two-lane interstate, obviously knowing law enforcement would be looking for two vehicles and they needed to split up.
Henrik kept the gas pedal pushed to the floor and continued onward, although he wanted nothing more than to pull over and shake the girl beside him. Shake her until he stopped seeing her fear back on that sidewalk. Until the stark, brittle feeling of helplessness left him.
Ailish stared straight ahead, still gulping in oxygen. Good. She needed to be aware of the impact of her actions. Goddammit, he was pissed. So why did the need to hold her, tell her everything was going to be all right, override his anger?
“I-I just killed a man,” Ailish murmured. “I’m no better than any of them. My father, Gordy…”
The desolation in her tone made Henrik’s ribs ache. “He was attempting to abduct you, Ailish. You didn’t have a choice.”
“Yes, I did. There’s always a choice, isn’t there?” She swiped a hand over her eyes. “Is today the first time you took another person’s life?”
“No,” he responded quietly. “It’s not.”
She was quiet for a few beats. “And I was the reason for this time.”
It was torture, not being able to touch her. Pull her across the console into the cradle of his arms when she looked so lost. But it was paramount that they drive hard and far before they even considered stopping. “Did you know those men?”
