Sleepily satisfied from Bowen’s touch and wondering what they’d have for dinner.
Beside her, Bowen steered the car through narrow Brooklyn streets, his face inscrutable. Thankfully, he hadn’t spoken a word since they’d revealed themselves at the construction site. She didn’t want him to open his mouth and drop more words on her head. Words that perpetuated even more doubt where too much already existed. She didn’t want to know how he felt about her. She didn’t want to hope he’d meant what he’d said. That kind of thinking had already been proved useless by their mutual lies. Perhaps he didn’t have an inkling of her insecurities where her uncle was concerned, but he’d still been a part of the deceit. He’d let her carry on like a wayward child with a babysitter.
In her mind, that in itself was unforgivable. Nothing he could say would negate those deceptions or change who they were, so his silence, both of their silences, was for the best. She just needed to make her shift at Rush count tonight and this would be over. Any longer and her uncle would swoop in and shut her down.
In the console between their seats, Bowen’s cell phone vibrated and danced in the cupholder. As if on autopilot, he picked the phone up and held it to his ear.
“Yeah, Wayne.” He listened for a moment. “Fine, I’ll get it done.” Another lengthy pause. “Well, it shouldn’t surprise you that I’m handling business.
The guy knew what would happen if he didn’t pay.” They pulled to a stop at a red light. “No, I’ll do it on my own.
Yeah, I’m sure.”
Trying not to let her alarm show at the deadness in his voice or what he’d said, Sera waited for him to explain, but he stayed silent. “Where are we going?”
“Quick stop.” His lips barely moved.
“Won’t take long.”
The uncomfortable feeling in her chest increased as they pulled up in front of a run-down white house. A dirty FOR SALE
sign hung at an angle in the yard and one of the steps leading to the porch had completely caved in. She didn’t know what kind of business Bowen planned on handling, but he didn’t seem in good shape for much of anything at the moment. It shouldn’t concern her, not after what she’d just found out, but it did. A lot. She hated the idea of him walking into a potentially dangerous situation, especially alone, in a frame of mind she couldn’t read.
Up until this point, he’d at least made a token effort to hide his illegal activities from her. The fact that he seemed to have given up on that score…
frankly, it scared her.
“Don’t go in there.”
He gave no sign that he’d heard her.
“Stay in the car. Don’t get out for any reason.”
“Please.”
Without so much as a glance in her direction, he climbed out of the car and slammed the door. He moved with graceful purpose toward the house, rapping quickly on the door twice. Sera held her breath, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Everything inside her screamed at her to stop him, but she also felt glued to the seat, as if watching a horrible accident in progress. A minute passed before the door opened a crack. She barely glimpsed the man’s pale, panicked face before Bowen wedged his foot inside the crack and muscled his way into the house, locking a hand around the man’s throat as he went.
No. The house’s front door thumped shut with a hollow noise and the only audible sound was her shaky inhales.
Was this some kind of challenge? Go ahead and try to stop me, cop. Sera didn’t think so. His move seemed desperate, born of the frustration she’d caused.
She flashed back to the previous night, when he’d held her in his arms like a treasured possession. I’m fucked for life, he’d said back at the construction site. A hard lump formed in her throat at the memory of his face, the torture written all over it. No, this reckless behavior was something else. Something that both of them could later regret.
Bowen, because he wasn’t thinking clearly, and her, for once again sitting back and watching the action take place around her. She needed to do something.
Decision made, she double-checked the weapon tucked into the deep pocket of her coat and left the car, careful to close the door gently behind her.
Midmorning on a weekday, the street stood empty, the blue-collar residents long since having left for work. She moved swiftly on the cracked cement surrounding the house, locating a window that would allow her a glimpse inside. Using an overturned bucket for extra height, she boosted herself up and peered through the filthy window. What she saw nearly made her body shut down.
Bowen stood in front of the man who’d answered the door, face covered in blood. He swayed a little on his feet, eyes glassy and unfocused. The man stood with hands fisted at his sides, still looking terrified. It made no sense when he was clearly the one inflicting injury.
He shook his head and tried to step back from Bowen, but Bowen only followed.
Then his mouth moved and Sera read the four words on his lips with dawning horror.
Hit me again. More.