Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line #4)(32)

Ailish commanded her body to relax, but it wouldn’t. She was still battling the fight-or-flight urge. Because he might have laid a bombshell on her, but she had a nuclear weapon. “What choice do you have but to offer me up if you want to go undercover?”

“I’ll find another way. Do you hear me?” Briefly, he closed his eyes. “I haven’t told the squad—or my captain—yet. We have time to figure this out.”

“We. We?” Her eyes started to fill with moisture, but she willed them away. “You don’t know who you’re teaming up with.”

His gaze narrowed, a new awareness hardening the powerful lines of his body. “If you’ve got something to tell me, get it out in the open now. But I’m telling you right now it won’t change anything on my end. Nothing will.”

She shook her head back and forth on the bed. “You’re so sure.” Her breath escaped in stages. “Your captain is targeting Caine’s gambling operation. He wants to bring my father up on charges of racketeering. But what if I told you the police could charge me with the same thing?”

Henrik stopped breathing above her. “You moved money one time. There is no longer any evidence of it. You’re in the clear.”

“No.” A rippling started along her insides, creating sharp edges and peaks. “The morning we had breakfast, you told me the Bookie Cookie was the main target. She runs the operation behind the scenes, formulating odds and managing debts. But no one has gotten access to her, only heard the name passed around among my father’s inner circle.” Again, she resented Henrik for pinning her down, because she desperately wanted to hide her face. “I’m her. I’m the Bookie Cookie.”

...

A denial clogged Henrik’s throat, refusing to be swallowed. This couldn’t be real. How had he missed this? He stared down into her innocent face, her demeanor the opposite of hardened. No, she was fresh and untainted by the life she’d been born into. That judgment would never be swayed. This couldn’t be possible, could it?

“Say something,” she whispered.

“I’m waiting for you to tell me you’re kidding.”

Her body moved in a shrug beneath him. “I wish I could.” She turned her face to the side, giving him a view of the pink blotches decorating her neck. “The way I see it, you have two choices. Take me back to Chicago and let your friends interrogate me until I give them what they want. Or drag me back to Caine where he can lock me up. Force me to create numbers that could end in people dying or losing their life savings. Just pick one.”

Another section of the big picture clicked into place. “This is why you wanted prison time,” he murmured. “You’re the oddsmaker.”

“Yes,” she sobbed.

God, the heartsick resignation in her usually buoyant voice was going to kill him. He’d been thrown the f*ck off, yeah. No sugarcoating it. But it was time she learned that when he promised her something, he meant it, come hell or high water. And both were headed in their direction, make no mistake. “I’m not going to do either of those things. Are we clear? I’m still here. I’m still looking at Ailish. And I know you ran away so you didn’t have to be a part of that shit anymore. I thank God for it.” She turned hopeful but wary eyes on him. “So now we’re going to get you clear for good. Okay? You with me?”

She scrutinized him. “I don’t know how I can be with you when I don’t understand where your conviction comes from. About me. I just told you I’m a bad person—as culpable as my father—and you barely flinch.”

“Not as culpable. Not even close. And you let me worry about my convictions, all right? The thing about convictions is they run on faith.” He rubbed their mouths together, relieved as hell when her lips stayed soft, pliant. “Now I need you to have it in me.”

Ailish lifted her knee, dropping his hips further into the cradle of her thighs. An uncontrived move, but one that got his juices flowing like a swift river current nonetheless. “I’m trying,” she said, her tone tinged with frustration. “It’s not a familiar concept to me.”

“I’m a patient man, baby. Except when it comes to your body.” He took her hands and lifted them above her head. “So here’s what we’re going to do.” A slow thrust of his hips made her lips pop open. “We’re going to take a shower so I can wash off the road, while looking at you naked. And then we’re going to start seeing our way clear of this. We. Do you understand?”

“I understand you’re high-handed.” She lifted the other knee and curved her feet around his ass, rubbed them up and down, shifting his hard-on against her *. “Can I think about the rest after we shower?”

That was all Henrik needed to hear. He hauled her clinging form off the bed, took two steps to immerse them in the dark bathroom, and kicked the door shut. He’d taken a shower that morning, didn’t necessarily need one now. But he wanted to see Ailish in the place where he’d pleasured himself to her memory countless times. Wanted to see the suds sliding down her tits, water dampening the little red patch of hair shielding her sweet spot.

And shit, Henrik needed a moment. Derek wouldn’t be understanding about Ailish’s hidden identity. Even if the captain was taking an uncharacteristic break from being a hard-ass, he would want to use Ailish to the team’s advantage, citing the greater good. A safer city. Goals Henrik understood and shared, but not at the cost of Ailish’s freedom or happiness. Hell, now that she’d run and apparently left Caine in the lurch, her life was even more at stake than before.