Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line #4)(38)

No way was he backing down now or bowing under scare tactics. “I’ve given you my terms. Ailish comes back to Chicago and cooperates—outside her father’s house—in exchange for a deal, or you lose her as an asset completely. What is it going to be?”

When a full minute passed, Henrik wondered if the captain had disengaged the line, but he finally spoke. “Just answer me one thing. Is she worth losing the chance to be reinstated? Because there’s no guarantee Caine gives you a shot without her in tow, and that would stop this investigation cold.”

The sunshine above glowed too bright. Being reinstated would mean eventual approval once more from his family, a return to normalcy, and the career he’d been groomed for since birth. Exactly what he wanted, and yet he delivered his answer without hesitation. “Yes, she’s worth it and more.”

Derek’s sigh was sharp. “Very well. She’ll get her deal, but I want you both back here by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I’ll find something to offer O’Kelly that isn’t his flesh and blood.”

Had the captain’s agreement been a little too easy? Derek Tyler had always been a man of his word, though. Hell, he’d given Henrik a second chance, and that alone demanded as much loyalty as he could give without sacrificing Ailish. “We’ll be there.”

As Henrik hung up the phone, he was already walking back up the path, eager to be close to Ailish. Eager to explain the deal he’d worked out with the captain. She would be safe. Always. When he’d left the cabin, her disappointment over being kept in the dark had hung in the air like smoke, but he could clear it away now. It might take some convincing that the squad could keep her safe until O’Kelly was put away, but they would get there. If anyone could keep Ailish hidden and protected, it was a crew of cons with access to police department technology.

When the cabin came into view and Henrik saw the door wide open, no sign of Erin, an uncomfortable sensation whispered down his back, forcing him to pick up the pace. The blonde walked out a second later, lighting a book of matches one by one and dropping them to the ground, where she put them out with the toe of her boot.

“Ailish,” Henrik bellowed, just as Connor stepped out of the cabin behind Erin, narrowed eyes fastened on his girlfriend. Bad sign. That was a bad f*cking sign. “Where is she?”

“She sneaked out while I was using the bathroom.” Erin pointed toward the wooden area to the cabin’s left. “But I think she went thataway…” She tapped a finger to her chin, then pointed it the opposite direction. “Or maybe that way.”

“Dammit.” Henrik dug the keys out of his pocket and sprinted for the truck. He’d left his stomach somewhere on the dirt courtyard, the blood rushing through his veins so fast, he felt dizzy. His fury that Erin had let Ailish slip away was eclipsed by frustration at himself. This was on him. When was he going to learn that Ailish wouldn’t blindly trust him without a reason? Now, twenty minutes might have ruined any chance he had to help her, to…keep her.

No. No, he wouldn’t let that be the case.

He stomped down on the gas pedal.





Chapter Eleven


Ailish was being followed. Not by Henrik, although she suspected at this point the man was hot on her heels. Not by Erin or Connor, either. No, the hair on the back of her neck was in permanent prickle mode because of the white sedan she’d seen three separate times since arriving in town. It had passed by once as she entered a convenience store and been parked across the street when she walked back outside. The same women who’d given her the ride to town were driving to a fishing boat rental center and had agreed to take her along, but they were taking their time shopping for supplies. Hunkered down in the backseat of their Jeep, Ailish watched the white sedan through the rearview mirror, where it sat with the motor running half a block away.

In addition to her quick convenience store run, Ailish had bought a one-way ticket to Detroit at the adjacent bus station, hoping it would throw anyone looking for her off the scent. She was learning, getting better at getting lost and staying that way. And while it gave her a sense of accomplishment to be problem-solving on her own, making her own decisions, a knot continued to tighten in her stomach. Had running away from Henrik been smart or impulsive? There was no denying that Henrik wanted to keep her physically protected, no matter what gray areas existed between them. Now, with the white sedan idling in the rearview, Ailish couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made herself more vulnerable by trying to be strong and independent. The kind of person she’d always hoped to become when she could get free of Chicago.

When the white sedan left its spot at the curb, intuition had Ailish sinking down further onto the vinyl seat, until her knees bumped the front row. Pass by, please just pass by.

It didn’t.

Ailish stopped breathing as the white car pulled into the now-vacant parking space behind the Jeep, creeping forward slowly and nudging the bumper.

“Shit,” she whispered, rubbing damp palms against the hem of her shorts. Staying low, Ailish reached an arm through the console and locked both doors of the Jeep, before peeking out the curbside window and noticing that the busy sidewalk had cleared somewhat since she’d reentered the car. No witnesses. No one to help her. Not that anyone could if the person behind the wheel had been sent by her father. They were well versed in the art of snatching people off the street, and they didn’t usually care who was watching. Dammit. Ailish dropped a hand and pulled out the T-shirt-wrapped gun, tearing away the cotton with shaking fingers and flipping off the safety.