Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)(74)

This is what Austin had been trying to tell her, but she hadn’t wanted to know. She’d been so confident it wouldn’t make a difference in their relationship—she still had faith it wouldn’t—but the lack of knowledge now put her at a disadvantage she couldn’t afford. Erin was in the backseat losing blood and needed medical attention. That was her priority now, not an explanation of Reitman’s vendetta. Where the hell was her backup?

“That motherf*cker seduced my daughter,” Reitman gritted out, stalling Polly’s rapid-fire thoughts. “He found her down in Texas. Gained her trust and then took her money, the way I’d taught him.” He swiped his free hand over his mouth. “That money went to Isobel to replace the money I took from Austin’s kid. I’m here to get it back, and then some. If anyone understands an eye for an eye, it’s Austin.”

The gun shook in Polly’s hand, but she steadied it. Okay. She’d known it was going to be bad. But it was out in the open now and they would deal with it. So Austin hadn’t wanted to get the money back from Reitman for his daughter. That debt had already been replaced. Did he want it for Reitman’s daughter instead? To right a wrong? She wouldn’t know until they were face-to-face. Ignoring the jealousy trying to wing its way through her breastbone, Polly chanced a glance at Erin in the backseat. God, there was so much blood. About two minutes had passed since she’d been injured, and she needed medical attention immediately.

“Look, I just need to get my friend to a hospital—”

Reitman lifted the gun on a laugh. “A hospital won’t be useful to either of you.”

Just out of view, tires screeched to a stop.





Chapter Twenty


Austin could barely hear over the fear screaming in his head. He jumped out of the van before it stopped moving, arms raised over his head, turning onto the darkened block where Polly, Reitman, and Erin occupied the silver Mercedes. The last five minutes would forever hold first place as worst in his life. A gun being drawn on Polly, the Mercedes swerving, listening to her being blindsided by his disgusting past deeds. Deeds he’d somehow known would come back to haunt him, but hadn’t known when.

How could he have known he’d someday have someone to live for? To be better for?

Polly shot him a fearful look through the windshield. Don’t be scared, sweet. He tried to communicate with a nod that there was nothing to worry about. He’d taken care of everything. Knowing he’d been prepared for every eventuality did nothing to lessen the blow of seeing a gun pointing at Polly. Rage braided his intestines together like a pretzel, so tight, an explosion seemed inevitable. No. No. He needed to be calm and see this through. It had taken some serious convincing for Derek to allow Austin to trade himself for Polly. Erin’s apparent injuries had sealed the deal and took precedent now.

Austin stopped at the front bumper of the Mercedes, resisting the need to search Polly’s face for a sign of how she felt about him now. Now that there was no question whether or not he deserved her.

He didn’t. He never would. But he could give her what she’d come to Chicago for. He could be her champion just this once.

“Charles,” Austin shouted, loud enough to be heard through the glass. “You’re not going to shoot a girl, are you?” He shook his head. “Poor form, old chap.”

Austin could see Reitman trying to piece together how he’d gotten there. How he’d known where they would be. He would never put it together that Austin was working for the police. There was no way of him finding that out. It would be too much of a leap for him to make at a moment’s notice. Austin was banking on Reitman’s assumption that he’d followed them in his own vehicle, which was presumably parked just out of sight in the alley.

Keeping his weapon trained on Polly, Reitman opened the driver’s side door and elbowed it open. “Do us both a favor and don’t pretend you would shed a tear if I pulled this trigger.”

Austin shrugged, striving for nonchalance even though his heart wanted to rip straight through his chest, propelled by fury. “It would be unnecessary. You came to Chicago for me, and I’m standing right here.” Don’t look at Polly. Don’t look. “If it’s money you want to replace what I took from your daughter, fine. I just want you off my back. Let’s go somewhere and have this out like men.”

Reitman narrowed his eyes. “Put your weapon on the ground.”

Only allowing himself a momentary hesitation, Austin slipped his weapon from its shoulder holster and laid it on the ground. He lifted both pant legs and the back of his untucked shirt, turning in a circle so Reitman could see he wasn’t hiding anything. Reitman tilted his head in Polly’s direction and Austin nodded, giving her a brief glance. “Lower the gun, babe.” He’d never called her that before and hoped it would signal her somehow. Furthermore, it was a generic nickname, one he’d used countless times over the years, that wouldn’t seem odd to Reitman. Would make Polly just another mark in his eyes, when she was the furthest thing from it. Polly’s arm had started to shake from holding the gun, and the sight made Austin’s throat ache. “Jig’s up. Put down the gun.”

Her lips formed the word no, but she eventually dropped the weapon. As soon as it went down, Reitman retrained his gun on Austin and climbed out of the vehicle slowly. “So here we are. Finally reunited.”