She’d be gone from him, but at least she’d be safe.
He breathed through the agony of knowing he’d be without her soon. When she saw his name among the other criminals in Hogan’s ledger book, she’d be thankful. “Keeping it to myself wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. They threatened me if I did otherwise. Didn’t think you would appreciate the help and would do something rash.” He stared at her until she gave him her attention.
“You won’t be, by the way. Doing something rash.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. If you’d been honest in the beginning, things might have been different.” She drifted to a stop outside his building and put the car in park. “It’s up to me to fail or succeed. Not you.”
Frustration burned in his gut. At Sera, for not realizing the kind of danger that surrounded her. At himself, for hearing the truth in her words and wishing he’d come clean on day one. She’d deserved that much from him. “Fail or succeed,”
he scoffed. “You realize what failure means? They’re not going to let you waltz out of Brooklyn. Not after how close you were. Not after what—” He cut himself off, remembering she knew none of this. Knowing it would drive an even bigger wedge between them.
“After what?”
His jaw flexed. “You overheard something important. A date.” He watched the wheels turning behind her eyes, waited to see if she would pretend ignorance and prove she still didn’t trust him.
She tugged the keys out of the ignition and handed them over. “I don’t remember hearing anything about a date.
Who told you I did?”
Based on her expression, she already knew, but wanted to hear him say it.
“Connor. You’re marked, Sera. Hogan doesn’t like loose ends.”
“Connor.” A touch of hurt flashed over her features. “I wonder why he didn’t just take care of me last night and be done with it.”
Bowen went still. “Last night?”
She glanced at him warily. “He was outside
Marco’s,
right
before…it
happened.”
Two threats against her. Not one. He’d been inside with Wayne, discussing the offer
of
protection
for
a
new
neighborhood business, while she’d been outside exposed to two chances of death. His fists shook in his lap with the need to break something. Not trusting himself to speak, he climbed out of the car. As he walked to her side, he scanned the street for anything unusual before helping her stiff form from the driver’s side. He thought he saw regret in her brown eyes as they looked over his battered face, then decided he’d imagined it.
A minute later, they were locked safely inside his apartment. He watched her from the kitchen as she paced, looking as though she were at a loss how to behave with him now that her identity was out in the open. Finally, she removed her sweatshirt and went into the guest bedroom.
He followed her, terrified he would round the corner to find her packing.
Instead, he found her lying on the bed, staring up at the scales of justice. His body ached with the urge to crawl on top of her, kiss her body all over until she had no choice but to respond. “So what’s the call, Sera? Let me help you or shut me out? I’m not going anywhere, so I’d suggest option two.”
Just when he gave up on getting an answer, her voice broke the deafening silence. “When I was seven years old, about a year before my father died, my brother got to do a ride-along with him.
He was ten at the time.” She cleared the rust from her throat. “That morning, I begged to come along. I cried and pleaded until he finally gave in. I can still remember being so excited, so stunned he actually agreed.” Slowly, she sat up, clasped her hands between her knees. “Then he left me with the dispatchers. All day. While my brother did the ride-along. They braided my hair.”
His heart clenched thinking of her at seven. Left behind. While his childhood had been the exact opposite, he still understood the feeling of not belonging.
“I’m sorry, Ladybug.”
“Are you? I feel the same way right now as I did back then.” She laughed under her breath. “When he came back, I told him I wanted to be a cop. That I would be the best cop. He told me he liked my braid.”
How can I not touch her when she looks so sad? This is killing me.
Everything hurts. “I wish I wasn’t a part of making you feel this way. You have no idea how bad I wish for that. But I can’t pretend I don’t understand that need to protect you.”
“Help me understand.” Her gaze pleaded with him. “Do I come across so helpless?”
“Not helpless, baby.” The right words eluded him, so he just told the truth. “I don’t know how to explain it. I want to walk beside you everywhere and absorb anything bad, so it won’t touch you.
Won’t change you, make you like me.”