Newsom was quiet a moment. “If you’re thinking about tipping them off, I’d reconsider.”
“You have my word. No tip-offs.”
He wouldn’t have to. They’d moved the shipment to tonight.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Something was terribly wrong.
Bowen hadn’t spoken to her since leaving the infirmary. She’d chalked his silence up to his father’s condition, but instinct told her she was missing something. Whereas Bowen normally radiated energy, always jiggling a leg, tapping a finger, or harassing his hair, now he appeared…vacant. The man who’d jogged back to the car twice to kiss her before entering the infirmary had vanished and been replaced by a shell. For all she knew his father hadn’t made it and he just needed time to process it before talking to her. Having lost her brother and working as an ER
nurse, she knew better than most that everyone processed grief differently.
She took a deep breath and laid her hand on top of his where it rested on his thigh. Cold. Unmoving. He made no move to hold her hand, didn’t even acknowledge her touch. After the night they’d shared, touching each other without cease, his lack of recognition set off alarm bells.
A glance out the window had her doing a double take. Why were they in Manhattan? Yellow cabs zipped past, bicycle deliverymen weaved through the steady traffic, skyscrapers towered over them on either side of the street. After being in Brooklyn so long, it felt like she’d been transported to a different planet. She’d been so focused on Bowen and his odd behavior that she hadn’t realized they weren’t driving back toward Bensonhurst.
“Is everything all right?”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. “Fine. I just thought we’d go for a drive. Get out of Brooklyn for a while.”
His flat, emotionless voice made her want to tug her hand away, but she kept it there determinedly. “Whatever you need. We can go somewhere and talk—”
He laughed, but it sounded nothing like his usual amused chuckle. Harsh, sarcastic. “Now she wants to talk. How about we just pull over and fuck, instead, baby? You seem to prefer that to talking.”
She ripped her hand away and watched his cold hand curl into a fist.
“What is wrong with you?” When he said
nothing,
she
pressed.
“Did
something happen to your father?”
“Lenny is the picture of health.” He whipped the wheel for a right turn, making the tires squeal. “In fact, I might go see him more often. Can’t put a price tag
on
fatherly
advice.
Right,
Seraphina?”
She flinched at the way he said her name, like a curse. Bowen’s detachment was slowly dissipating, being replaced by something darker. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, his voice sounding unnaturally strained. This change in attitude might have something to do with his father, but something else was in play. That phone call. It had to be the phone call he’d taken just before he’d gotten into the car. A pit formed in her stomach.
“Who were you on the phone with?”
He ignored her question. “It must have pissed you off. Knowing what I am and wanting me anyway.” His hands flexed on the steering wheel. “You weren’t faking it in bed, I know that much. You were too wet for it.”
“Stop it,” she shouted. “Bowen, whatever you’re thinking about me, it’s wrong. You just have to talk to me.
We’ll figure this out.”
“Talk to me, talk to me.” He took another hard corner. “My, how the tables have turned.”
The resignation in his voice reached across the car to slap her. Before she could recover, he’d thrown the car into park. She only had a moment to register the industrial-type commercial store before he opened the passenger-side door and pulled her out. Taken off guard, she clutched his shoulders for balance, bringing their faces close. His angry countenance slipped for a split second and she glimpsed utter misery behind his gray eyes. It cut through every raging emotion in her chest, made her ache to take away his pain. She reached up to cup his cheek, but he caught her wrist before she could make contact.
“Don’t.”
Sera’s knees almost buckled under the weight of that single word. “You’re scaring me,” she whispered. “This isn’t you.”
“Oh, God, please just drop the act.”
His head dropped forward, hair obscuring his face. “I can’t take anymore.”