“I repeat”—Rachel walked by me, headed straight for the kitchen—”do you, or do you not possess a magical vagina that has extraordinary powers beyond mortal comprehension?”
Gina ambled in next, giving me an apologetic smile. “I told her to drop it, but she's been obsessed. And you know how she gets.”
“Yeah...but what does this have to do with my you-know-what?”
“Don't you dare act all prim and proper now,” Rachel said, emerging with a bottle of wine and three glasses. “Guys like that don't go cross-eyed over nuns. Unless of course the nun has a tongue like a succubus and the suction of a black hole. That changes things.”
I closed the door before any of my neighbors walked down the hall and wondered what the hell they were hearing like I currently was. Briefly, I glanced at the freshly painted frame and brand new deadbolt, a half-smile on my face.
A few days had passed since Hawk quite literally kicked down my door, brought me to my knees, then fled my life so swiftly I would've thought the whole thing was a dream if not for the fingerprints he'd left on my hips from his crushing grip.
The very next morning, a woman that was more tattoos than skin had shown up, popping the gum in her mouth and telling me who sent her. She'd made the repairs and left without saying another word, and I'd settled in on my day off fully expecting him to show up.
Which he hadn't done.
Was I experiencing a crisis over that fact? That was a big, fat yes.
The questions running through my mind had no off switch that I could find.
Who was the tattooed woman and how did she know Hawk?
Why was he giving me the cold shoulder after being on my ass like white on rice when he first got out?
What the hell was I supposed to do about Captain Holt?
Every time I looked at him, I wanted to dribble a basketball against his head until his stupid face and stupid mustache didn’t look anything like they were supposed to.
Since that would result in me either being fired or thrown in jail—probably both, actually—I managed to restrain myself each time we crossed paths. But it was a close thing. His saving grace was the fact that I had no reason to bring a basketball into the precinct. That and my good luck to still be on evidence room duty, which meant I spent far less time having to actually acknowledge him and treat him like a real person and not someone I wanted to...well, hurt. Badly.
Why did he throw me under the bus?
No matter how many times I tried to figure it out, it refused to make sense. I imagined part of the blame for that was that I couldn’t think clearly. All I knew was that he was the reason I’d spent three years thinking the man I loved was going to destroy me the first time we saw each other again. He was the reason Hawk had never gotten any of my letters that might have set the record straight.
As I’d gotten older, I’d learned just how precious time was. It couldn’t be bought or sold. Once it was gone, it was just gone. For good. Holt had stolen that time from me.
From Hawk.
From both of us.
“Is this a bad time?”
I blinked, finding Gina perched on one end of the sofa, looking me up and down with obvious concern in her eyes.
Duh, dummy. You’re still standing at the door staring out into space like you’ve lost your damn mind.
I shook my head, trying unsuccessfully to purge the intrusive thoughts that kept winding around and around my brain. “I’m fine,” I lied, moving deeper into the room. “What are we watching tonight?”
Rachel paused with her wine halfway to her lips. “You never answered my question.”
I thought for a second, grimacing. God, I really was out of it. They shared a look while I struggled to piece together the last five minutes, and I hated the question in their eyes when they looked at me again.
“Since you’re having a senior moment,” Rachel said, sitting forward, “I’ll skip ahead. I tried to hit on that man of yours before we left the gym. And I mean I really tried.”
A green-eyed monster clawed a hole through my chest. It was painful and completely unwelcome.
Maybe a little bit welcome.
Friends weren’t supposed to hit on friend’s...
Huh.
I had no idea what to call Hawk, and that just made me feel worse.
Boyfriend? Lover? Soulmate?
My feelings for him didn’t match the status of whatever we were because said status didn’t exist.
We’d never been on a real date. The closest thing had been our pit stop at the taco truck because I wasn’t counting the night we met at the bar. He’d never bought me flowers or held my hand or danced with me to a slow song. Our relationship—if it could even be called that—had consisted of a month’s worth of sweaty, perfect, exhausting sex and had ended the day he got put away for three years.
Still, my voice was tight and heavy when I said, “Why would you do that?”
Rachel glanced at Gina, but pointed at me. “You see that? I told you she had it in her. That’s a genuine bitch fit about to come out.”
“I am not having a bitch fit.”
The aggressive finger I stabbed through the air disagreed, and so did Rachel’s mocking laughter which I did not find funny in the least. My pulse sped up and I marched across the room, snatching the wine from her hand and setting it down on the table hard enough to send some of the red liquid sloshing over the edges.
I got right in her face. “I asked you a question.”
She grinned up at me. “I’ve never been into girls, but you’re kinda hot when you’re angry. It’s too bad I can’t keep the ruse going since he didn’t pay me a single lick of attention even after I gave him the ol’ arm between the double Ds treatment.” Rachel pressed her breasts together for effect, forming a generous valley of creamy flesh that many, many men had gotten caught staring at.
And he’d ignored her?
In favor of chasing me down?
“Ah, now she gets it,” Gina said.
A frown crept across my face. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place? Did you really need to rile me up?”
Rachel shrugged, grabbing the wine I’d taken from her. “Figured no time like the present to make sure you’re not actually an alien or something. You usually don’t get excited over anything that’s not a basketball, so I’m glad to see that’s changing.” Her eyes darted around the room. “So, where is tall, hot, and tatted anyway? After Geegee over there filled me in, I figured you two would’ve been shacked up for the foreseeable future. You know, making up for lost time.”
There it was again. Time. Something we’d already lost in vast quantities and even more of it continued to slip through my fingers while I waited on Hawk to do whatever it is he was up to.
“It’s...complicated,” I told them, wringing my hands together.
Gina sat up long enough to grab my arm and plop me down on the other end of the sofa. “Does it look like we’re going anywhere? Spill. I’m stuck in a dry spell until I can find a guy who can deal with my ridiculous hours, so I’m going to live vicariously through you until then.”
“I just want the raunchy details.” Rachel wagged her brows. “If they come with a side helping of drama and enough spice to make me feel like I’m watching a soap opera, even better. Lay it on us.”
Giving my two, ridiculous friends an eye roll, I did exactly that. I went back through everything that had happened, starting with Hawk showing up at the precinct and ending with him dashing out of my apartment with a promise to return.
They shared another look when I was done, and I narrowed my eyes at them.
“What?” I asked.
Gina reached over, patting me on the hand. “First off, please tell me that you’re going to punch Captain Holt in the dick the first chance you get.”
I snorted. “Trust me, I’d love to. I’ve thought about it a lot.”
“Second thing,” she continued. “Please tell me you haven’t been leaving the precinct
and rushing straight home to wait for him every day.”
I looked away.
Rachel clucked her tongue. “Rule number one of being involved with an alpha male: don’t make it easy. They get bored faster than you would believe.”
“You think he’s bored of me?” I hated how weak I sounded. How afraid of the possibility that—now that I no longer wanted him to leave me alone—that’s exactly what was happening.
“No,” Rachel said quickly. “Even from my brief interaction with the dude, I could tell he’s scary-focused on you. But if you two are going to do this, it’s a bad idea to start off by being so...available. Never stop living life for a man. They won’t appreciate it, and it never ends well.”
“Then...” I chewed on my lip. “What do you suggest? Do I go after him instead?”
Gina snorted. “Fuck no. I suggest we reschedule the movie and have ourselves a real girl’s night instead.”
I arched a brow. “The last time you said that you ended up with a tattoo of a banana peel on your ass cheek.”
“Whatever y’all are talking about”—Rachel’s eyes twinkled—”I want in.”
Gina clapped her hands together and stood. “That settles it. We’re going out and having ourselves an AIGT.” She looked at our blank faces, smile dropping by degrees. “Alcohol Induced Great Time?”
I cleared my throat.
Rachel shuffled her feet.
Gina pouted. “You two suck.” She pointed at me. “And just for that, I’m making sure whatever you wear is at least two inches shorter than your usual...”
Chapter Thirteen
Jasmine
True to her word, Gina managed to get me to the club in a skirt I’d bought years ago and had never worn because it was so short I thought I’d flash the whole world with every step. The wine they’d plied me with before we left my apartment helped. The shots we ordered the minute we stepped into the club pushed me completely out of oh my God I look like a fool territory and firmly into holy shit I feel amazing territory instead.
After another few shots, it was safe to say my worries were a distant memory I could just barely reach out for but never quite grasp.
The music pulsed and throbbed, the bass loud enough to replace my frantic heartbeat. Gina danced on one side of me, shaking her head like heavy metal was coming through the speakers instead of rap. She’d plucked a dress from my closet that was too tight and too long, but she rocked it anyway.
Rachel was on my other side, gyrating from side to side with the kind of swaying undulations that made me want to scan the crowd for a snake charmer. As someone who’d never graduated beyond a simple two-step or a shimmy here and there, I was in awe of the way her hips moved from side to side, and so were the guys who kept trying to dance with her.
I couldn’t blame them. Even though she hadn’t been able to find anything in my closet that fit, her skinny jeans wrapped around her curves like a second skin, and after knotting her blouse at her waist, the girls were propped like an offering on her chest. Hell, even I felt compelled to steal a peek here and there.
“Bathroom,” Gina blurted, raising her voice to be heard over the music.
Rachel grabbed her hand. “I’ll come with you!”
They both reached out for me, but I did a little spin and shook my head. “I’ll be right here.”
Nodding, my friends wandered off, leaving me to enjoy the freedom that came with being questionably intoxicated and sticky with sweat from dancing so hard my feet were going to write me a strongly worded letter by the time I got home and kicked my heels off.
I closed my eyes, not paying attention to anything but the music and the smile on my face.
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what I’d been so damn worried about.
Hawk was out of jail.
He knew I hadn’t betrayed him.
The world continued spinning, showing no signs of coming to a sudden stop that would fling us all into space.
Or...something. I didn’t actually know what would happen if that came to pass. I studied case files and put things in alphabetical order. By no means was I a scientist.
The point was that as long as those three things remained true, there was a chance. I’d held onto hope for this long. It would take more than a few days of silence to make me blow out the candle and give up.
I refused to be a quitter, and that was that.
Then the mood inside the club shifted.
It was subtle at first, like catching a breeze and smelling the rain in the air before the darkest clouds blew in, raising the small hairs on your arms and at the back of your neck. That’s how it was for me anyway.
And it only got stronger from there.
The oxygen turned thick and heavy. I opened my eyes, sweeping them around the club. Everything looked the same as far as I could tell. Either my senses were lying to me or I just couldn’t see what the difference was.
A chill raced up my spine as the feeling of being watched settled in. My head swiveled this way and that. I brushed a few damp curls from my face when they obscured my sight. But it wasn’t until other heads turned—looking behind me—that I figured out where the odd sensation was coming from.
It felt like I turned around in slow motion. Whether that was from the alcohol or the effect Hawk had on me, I couldn’t be sure. If I had more than a few dollars in my purse after the entry fee and the initial round of shots, I would’ve put my money on it being the latter.
He stood near the entrance, hands in the pockets of his gray jeans, wearing a tight, V-neck shirt and a lazy smile. He stood there like he owned the place, forcing people coming in behind him to go around. A few of them gave him annoyed looks, but if he cared, he didn’t show it.
His focus was singular. All-consuming. Unbearable and intoxicating at one time.
And that focus was on me.
“Is that him?” someone on the dance floor said to their friend.
“I heard he was out,” said another.
“Doesn’t he own this place?” asked a third voice.
He does?
The music hadn’t dulled, so I heard them yelling over each other while they gossiped about the imposing man standing among us. He still hadn’t moved an inch. I wondered what he was waiting on.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” the DJ said over the speakers, amplified voice drowning out everything else. “We’ve got a special request tonight from a living myth, so I’m about to switch this thing up. If you’ve got a problem, I suggest you take it up with the man himself because I know I’m not going to!”
There was a brief lull where the conversations going on across the club seemed incredibly loud before the track changed.
My eyes widened as a slow, heartfelt melody replaced the rap music from before right as Hawk took his first step toward me.
I had a moment to wonder what the hell he was doing before the need to grow claws and cut a bitch struck. That was what it did to me to see a dozen beautiful women put themselves directly in his path, plainly fawning over him without caring how desperate they looked.
Except no matter how many bouncy blondes, curvy redheads, and sultry brunettes tried to intercept him, his stride never wavered. Those gray eyes never drifted from my face. And the tattooed hands I dreamed of more than it was healthy never left his pockets until he was close enough to offer me one of them.
“Dance with me, Jasmine,” he said in a low voice I shouldn’t have been able to hear as well as I did.
Butterflies spazzed out in my stomach and my hand lifted on its own, finding its way into his oversized paw. He wrapped his fingers around mine, offering up another devastating smile as he tugged me closer. I bumped into his body and his arm went around my waist, keeping me there.
“How?” I whispered, taking a moment to close my eyes and breathe him in. I needed to reassure myself that he was here, in the flesh, and that this wasn’t a result of the copious number of shots I’d managed to get down.
But this had to b
e real.
He looked like my Hawk. Smelled like him. He made every cell in my body stand up and take notice of his presence while I warmed from the inside out. All signs pointed to this being reality.
He squeezed my hand, brushing his lips across my temple until he reached my ear. “I have my ways. Notorious criminal, remember?”
I smiled into his chest, so happy that I wanted to look around for an anchor or at least a really heavy brick. Someone needed to tie something around my ankles before I floated to the ceiling and got electrocuted by the strobing lights. That wouldn’t be a fun way to end the night.
“Are you sure that’s something you’re supposed to advertise?”
“Fuck no it isn’t, but I seem to lose a few points on my IQ every time I’m around you.”
I glanced up at him, memorizing every crease and line that formed on his face as he continued smiling. He looked happier than I’d ever seen him. Being the one to put that grin on his face made me want to climb onto the stage, steal the DJ’s microphone, and announce to the world that I was officially a certified badass.
Surely, I deserved a plaque. Or at least a medal of some sort. I wasn’t picky.
Hawk shuffled to the side, bringing me with him, and it wasn’t long before we found a comfortable rhythm that let us sway around the dance floor, much to the apparent surprise of the curious onlookers. On any other day, at any other time, I would’ve been frazzled beneath their scrutiny. Here I was, a sweaty mess in a tiny skirt, dancing with a man so handsome he could be on the cover of a cologne ad, and it felt like half the club was staring right at us.
But the insecure me was nowhere to be found. I ignored the spectators and kept my eyes on Hawk’s as he continued to lead, coasting across the floor like he’d done this a hundred times before.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a slow dancer,” I told him after a particular dip that belonged on a stage.
“Yeah?” His eyes flicked between mine. “What did you think I would dance to?”
I shrugged as best as I could in his iron hold. “I didn’t think you would dance to anything. Usually comes with the big, scary guy shtick.”
Kingpin's Promise Page 8
