Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(134)

“Erin.” His admonishing gaze through red-rimmed eyes left no room for argument.

“Okay.” I rested my head on his while every fiber of my being was screaming to get on a plane and fix this. I knew talented surgeons, leading neuroscientists. I could gather a team, save Adam and his family from having to endure another second of grief. “I’m so sorry. Did they say what kind of injuries?”

A sharp wrap on the door startled us both. “Excuse me, Doctor Novak? One of the nurses said I’d find you in here.”

I slipped off of Adam’s lap; Detective Holihan filled the doorway. I guessed he was in his forties, with wide shoulders and a thick midriff. My guess was that he hadn’t been running down the streets of Philly chasing criminals lately.

Adam tensed, slipped his hand around my hip, and drew me back. His hand rested on his own sidearm until he held out his hand and introduced himself, unphased by the questioning gaze from the other cop.

It was then, when Officer Holihan moved from resting on his gun to shaking Adam’s hand, that I realized that no matter the situation, Adam’s actions were always deliberate. He didn’t move me out of the way to discount my presence; he placed his body between me and anything he perceived as a threat, and didn’t relax until the threat was neutralized.

He put me first.

Always.

Oh my God. I love him. Is he…? Could he be in love me, too?

I smiled inwardly, slightly baffled, while watching these two intimidating police officers greet each other.

“Have a few additional questions for you, Doctor Novak,” the detective said, eyeing me around a wall of Adam. “Can we speak somewhere privately?”

I stepped closer. “Yes, of course.”

Adam’s quick warning glance stopped me in my tracks, reading his unspoken message as clearly as if he’d said it aloud. “ATTF is conducting a comprehensive investigation into the Mancuso family,” he said. “It’s my case. Any information you can share here is crucial.”

Detective Holihan appeared confused, obviously trying to determine why I was just sitting on Adam’s lap a few moments ago.

“Doctor Novak is aware of the case I’m working,” Adam said without further explanation.

Holihan’s brow rose. “She called you?”

And I was just sitting on his lap a few minutes ago, too.

Adam remained composed and stoic. “As I stated, she is aware. That’s it. So where did this shooting occur?”

“On Chestnut, a few blocks from Washington Square Park. Three were hit. So far Doctor Novak’s patient is the only survivor and the only lead.”

“You got names on the DBs?” Adam questioned.

“Yeah,” Detective Holihan said, rubbing a hand over his buzz-cut hair. He flipped open a small spiral bound tablet. “Cody Powell, age twenty-two, died en route, and a Benjamin Deets, age twenty-nine, expired upon arrival.”

Adam rested his hands on his hips. “Wait, hold up. Did you say Deets? D. E. E. T. S? Benny Deets?”

Holihan nodded. “Yeah, why? You know him?”

Adam’s head dipped and swayed while he strung together a few curse words. “Yeah. He’s one of my CIs.” He pegged me with his attention. “Was.”

I pulled out a chair and sat down; my knees had grown weak.





“FROM NOW ON you do not walk to your car without an escort,” Adam declared. He was all business, which had started from the moment that Detective Holihan entered the conference room. Now that we were alone again, Adam was worse. “When you’re ready to leave work, you call me. If I can’t get here I’ll have a unit dispatched or get hospital security to do it. Someone. Just, you’re not going out there alone. And from now on I drive you in and pick you up.”

“Adam—”

“No arguments, all right? Shit just got real, Erin.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit—”

“A bit what?”

“I don’t know. Excessive?”

The angered glint in his eyes said otherwise. I instantly regretted my affront.

“I’m not risking anything, especially your life. Right now there are only two people who can link a Mancuso to murder and one of them is you. So I don’t give a shit if you think it’s excessive, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna pretend that everything is cool. Shit plays out, you may have to testify, Erin. You know what that means? A target gets painted on your head. And there’s an entire city of lowlifes willing to take someone out for a favor or a… or a f*cking crack rock.”

My mind flashed over the dozens of rap sheets he’d shown me, the crimes all those criminals had committed, the vacant or sometimes smug look on their faces when they were arrested. Gang members came through our ER on a daily basis. Their smack-talk and wannabe gangster attitudes were an everyday occurrence. His anxiety was valid.

“I still don’t know if we have leaks within the PD, and I can’t shake that Benny was just hitting on you at Al’s Tavern a few weeks ago and now he’s on a slab in the morgue. You think that might have been just a coincidence?”

No, not really. I didn’t want to think about it.

“And now…,” he continued. “Now your name is going into a case file on a double homicide. You’ve got to see why I—”