“How did you know where to find me?” she asked, horrified to hear her teeth chattering.
His hesitation hit her like a physical blow. For the first time since meeting him, she felt as though she didn’t know him at all. He was everything his police file proclaimed him to be.
“Answer me,” she shouted, the gun blurring in front of her. “How did you know? Were you here that night…did you—”
“Jesus.” His voice packed a raw punch. “Do it. Pull the trigger right now.
It’ll be better than hearing the rest of what you were going to say.”
Sera shook her head. “Stop. Just stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Saying things like that to me.
Pretending I mean something to you, when you’ve been lying to me since the beginning.” Her extended arm started to shake. “Haven’t you?”
“No more than you’ve been lying to me, Seraphina,” he returned, gravely.
Everything inside her seized at the use of her full name. Confirmation of what she’d already suspected, that he’d known her identity since the beginning.
Had he just been humoring her, so secure in his own criminal immortality that he hadn’t found her a threat? The idea hurt worse than she could have imagined.
She thought back to last night, how he’d waited to exact revenge, instead of doing it in front of her, so she’d have no way to prove his guilt. He’d known.
“You still haven’t answered me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
She needed this final nail in his coffin, so she could maybe one day put him behind her. “How did you find me?”
His
jaw
flexed.
“Commissioner
Newsom told me where you were.”
Her arm went limp, the gun dropping to her side. Every available breath in her body fled, driven away by confusion.
“What?” she wheezed.
He took a step toward her, cursing when she backed up. “It’s complicated, Sera, and I can’t think straight enough to explain when you’re looking at me like I’m a monster.”
“Aren’t you?”
Pain blanketed his features. “Only half of me. The half I never wanted you to see.”
“Stop talking in code and explain yourself,”
she
demanded.
The
implications of his words were refusing to register. Bowen and her uncle. Her uncle and Bowen.
Bowen dragged agitated hands through his hair, drawing her attention to the kaleidoscope of colors coating his fingers and knuckles. Had he been painting inside his bedroom last night?
Such an absurd thing to be curious over when her world was crumbling around her, but for some reason it seemed important.
“Ruby’s boyfriend, Troy,” he said.
“He’s a detective. When you went solo and dropped out of sight, they pulled him in. The police don’t like his connection to me, but they live with it. Especially this time, when they needed to use it.
Use me.”
He paused for a moment, no idea he’d just broken something inside her. Her uncle had known her plans this whole time? Why had he pretended otherwise?
Humoring her. He’d been humoring her, all the while keeping tabs on his incapable niece.
“They asked me to keep you safe. To help get you out.”
Undiluted exhaustion swamped her.
No confidence. Not one person in this world believed in her. “And you just agreed? What did they offer you?”
He laughed without humor. “They offered to make my life hell if I didn’t play along. My sister’s life.” With renewed determination, he prowled toward her. “I didn’t want to do it until I saw your picture. But I would have walked through fire after I did.” His eyes searched her face as if committing it to memory. “Before I even met you, I’d started falling for you, Sera. Believe me or don’t believe me. I’m not sure if it matters anymore. Not if you think I’m a monster.” He took a deep breath. “But I need you to know that I’m fucked for life over you.”
No, she wouldn’t let those words penetrate the hard shell she’d begun to form. “So you didn’t do it to get the cops off your back. You did it to get me onto mine.”
Her words broke his stride, made him flinch. “Don’t you talk about us like that.”
“What us?” Her temper sizzled. She’d been played, not just by Bowen, but her uncle, the police department. She must be a laughingstock if they’d sent in a known felon to rescue her. This entire time, she’d been playing a part and Bowen had known the truth. What kind of fantasy world had she been living in?
The kind of world where the police commissioner’s niece goes on dates with the leader of a racketeering operation.
S o stupid. “There was never an us. I was undercover and they made sure you were convenient.” She applied the gun’s safety and let it drop to her side. “Does the commissioner know he sent in a murderer to save me?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sera stared out the passenger side window of Bowen’s car as they drove back to Bensonhurst, marveling at how completely she’d been flipped on her head since yesterday. She’d sat in this exact spot, still warm from the beach.