Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line #4)(47)

His body deflated in degrees, but his arms turned to steel. “What should I have said instead?”

This is trust. The weight of the metal cuffs had only been transferred to her heart. She never wanted to be separated from the man holding her so tightly. And she knew—without a single doubt—letting her go would hurt him just as much as leaving would pain her. But he’d do it. Because he wanted her to be happy, more than keeping his job. Or proving himself.

It felt as though the hours spent in interrogation had taken place years ago, but she still recalled the resignation she’d felt. The certainty that she’d be a prisoner soon enough. And yes, there’d been massive relief. She would finally be paying for what she’d done. The guilt would no longer be a daily burden she carted around like a pack mule. She’d been blinded by freedom and forgotten about her past deeds. The ones her father continued to commit. Henrik could give her the chance to banish the guilt, stop the violence, once and for all. And he’d be right beside her while they accomplished it together.

“I would want you to say that we’re a team. And where you go, I go.”

Henrik’s gusty exhale blew back her hair. “I want that to be true. I don’t think you realize…exactly how goddamn much.” He ran open lips up the side of her neck. “But you can’t come with me where I’m going. Your father’s house. Especially now that I know what you went through there.”

She leaned back and met his gaze. “You don’t understand. I need to go with you. Going to prison…that was my chance to make up for my role in so many—” Saying the word “murders” or “beatings” out loud was too much, but Henrik’s eyes told her he understood. “I’ve survived my father before. I can do it again. We can do it together. I’ve been sheltered my entire life and I hated it. Don’t you sideline me, too. Please. Promise me.”

His voice was hollow when he answered. “Promise.”





Chapter Thirteen


After they’d stopped and procured a new vehicle—and by procured, he meant stolen—and made the necessary arrangements with Derek, Ailish had held his hand all the way to Chicago. Henrik had lost count of how many awkward ways he’d devised for steering the car without letting go, but there had been a shit-ton. Her hand, so small inside his, had a fierce grip nonetheless, as if she was trying to prove going back to her hometown was what she wanted. Even though the trapped-animal energy radiated from her like a lighthouse beacon. Words kept sticking in his throat. Assurances that nothing would happen to her, even if he was cold and dead in the ground. But the time had come to show Ailish, not tell. Put your money where your mouth is.

Rain pelted the truck’s roof as they pulled up outside the defunct recreation center, the basement of which was where undercover squad meetings were held. He was grateful for the shitty weather, because he didn’t like having her exposed. The fact that nighttime had fallen during the drive only eased that worry some. But the sooner they got this meeting over with and he could get Ailish somewhere safe, the better. Until that happened, he was resigned to his gut grinding nails.

“Who will be there?”

Henrik turned Ailish’s hand over, massaging circles into her palm with his thumb. “Captain Tyler.” He thought of the phone call with Derek, which out of necessity, he’d made while Ailish used the bathroom at a rest stop. So she wouldn’t overhear the conversation. “The squad will be there, minus Erin and Connor, since they’re still lying low. No one you need to worry about.”

She nodded. “I’ve never been to this part of Chicago.” Rain filled the silence. “I’ve never been to most of it, actually. Maybe someday—”

“I’ll take you everywhere.” With an effort, Henrik dialed down the intensity. “Is there one place in particular you want to go?”

“No.” She gasped. “Yes. I want to ride the train. The aboveground one, you know? Maybe I can read a book or listen to music…or just look out the window. No one rushing me or telling me where to go.”

Henrik was capable of holding back only a matter of seconds before capturing Ailish around the waist and dragging her onto his lap. Something about the rain, or the darkness of the Chicago evening, made it okay to drop his head and wedge it beneath her chin, inhaling the scent of summer that lingered on her neck, chest, clothes. Her fingertips traced over his head, the scratchiness of his hair growing back after a week of not shaving. “It might be a while before we’re together like this again, baby. You think of me, okay?” His hand slipped up her thigh, straight under the hem of her shorts, toying with the edge of her panties. “You think of me planted inside you. Think of me kissing you. Understand?”

“How could I forget to think of you? We’ll be undercover, but I’ll still see you.” Ailish tilted her head, and Henrik wasted no time sucking the skin beneath her ear, lower, savoring her little kitty-cat noises. “You think of me, too. Like this. Understand?”

Even he could hear the guilt in his laughter. “Ailish, I’m already planning all the ways I’m going to think of you.”

“Name one.” He nipped her ear, making her squeal. “Two. Name two.”

When his throat started to feel crowded, Henrik breathed through his nose. Goddammit, she felt so perfect on his lap. Why did they live in a world where they couldn’t be together without so many gray areas? “I’m going to think of you bandaging my shoulder when you shot me.”