Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)(50)

“Bully for me.” Henrik was doing a bang-up job of hiding his apprehension, but it was there in the tight lines around his eyes, his uncharacteristic lack of smoothness. When they entered the sparse one-bedroom apartment, Henrik dropped his keys onto the kitchen counter and propped his notoriously lethal fists on his hips. “What do you know about Ailish?”

Austin took a turn around the room, noting the stacked boxes in the corner. The lack of anything personal. Maybe they weren’t so different, after all. “I know you destroyed evidence to keep her out of prison.” He narrowed his eyes on the other man’s back. “I know she disappeared during your brief incarceration.” His words caused Henrik’s shoulder muscles to bunch. “Didn’t leave so much as a love note, did she? I know firsthand how cruel women can be.”

“Do the world a favor. Shut the f*ck up.” Henrik prowled in a circle around the card table serving as a dining room. “Why are you coming to me with this? Just to show off?”

“I am a bit of a show-off,” Austin admitted. “But in this case, my—Polly is owed the accolades.” Pride worked its way past his defenses. Honestly, his defenses had all but deserted him, the cheeky f*ckers. “We need your help, she and I. You’re going to give it to us.”

Henrik’s laughter boomed. “If I were holding a hose and you were on fire, I’d point it in the opposite direction.”

Granted. “What about Polly?”

“I liked her until a minute ago, when you so casually mentioned she’d hacked into my private business and obviously plans to use it against me.” Henrik crossed his arms over his chest, legs braced in a fighter’s stance. “I’m waiting to hear how.”

“Before you had your badge taken away, you won quite a lot of money for charity on the department’s behalf inside the ring.” Austin inclined his head. “You’re a boxer. We can use that talent to our advantage.”

“I was a boxer. I’m nothing now.”

God, Austin was starting to feel shabby about this whole business. “I hope you still have your old gloves lying around, because you’re going to need them.”

“You need me to fight?” Henrik’s expression was incredulous. “Why the hell would I do that?”

Austin took no pleasure in delivering the blow. “We know where Ailish O’Kelly is.”

For the second time since Austin arrived, he watched Henrik turn into a mammoth-sized sculpture. Unmoving, but intimidating nonetheless. There was more, though, lurking under the hardened surface. So much that it made Austin a little uncomfortable to witness it. In Henrik’s eyes lay bedlam. “Talk.”

With a nod, Austin turned one of the dining room chairs around and straddled it. “Until now, your fights were merely for fun. Charity bouts and the like.” He shook his head. “That won’t be the case this time.”

Polly had slept with the enemy.

Austin had been her nemesis from day one, but there’d been a certain amusement behind their constant ribbing. In a million years, she’d never expected him to reveal a connection to Reitman. She should feel like a lowly traitor, having slept with him after he’d revealed that information. So why didn’t she? Instead, she was experiencing the reverse. A sense of camaraderie to be after the same man. Hope that they could accomplish something together.

She stared at the lines of code flashing across her laptop screen, wishing she hadn’t cut off her nails, just so she could chew them. Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted them back as of that morning. If she’d still had her nails in the hotel room, maybe Austin wouldn’t have taken one look—and despite the antagonism created in the meeting and the uneven footing they stood on, known he had her. Hook, line, and sinker. She’d paid for the slip in the form of being draped over the bathroom sink, dragging in wheezing breaths in an attempt to recover from the force of nature that was Austin.

If you refuse to think about it, it never happened.

Sure.

As she waited for the desired information to appear on the computer screen, she checked the clock at the bottom right-hand corner. Evening had fallen and the man in question still hadn’t shown with his promised “plan” in tow. Hell, maybe he’d never show, choosing to handle Reitman on his own without alerting her. Their parting at the hotel had been awkward to say the least, Austin clearly wanting to go another round, but Polly too thrown by the first time to give in. When she stopped to think about it, his behavior had been so un-Austin. Starting a sentence, stopping. Reaching out, letting his hand drop. So unlike his usual confident self, sure of his skill in seducing a woman.

As always, Austin was proving to be the ultimate riddle, intriguing her relentlessly, despite her remaining reservations. She could never discern his thoughts or puzzle out his motivation. That had never been so true as it was now. Twice now, he’d turned her universe on its head and left her wondering if she’d imagined what had transferred between them. They traded trust and pushed toward understanding, only to step back and leave Polly staring at a riddle that had become more convoluted.

Did she want the riddle of Austin to remain convoluted? It was a strong possibility. Because the solution meant casting aside doubt and going all-in with a man who excelled at deception.

But you’re not thinking about it. Remember?

Sure.