Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)(14)

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Elle smiling. “And you won’t.”

“We don’t want to scare the general public,” Elle interjected in a whisper.

“Oh. Of course,” she answered.

In between the crazy talk and the constant flow of Scotch, soon Elle was more relaxed.

“So, Borg, what’s your plan once we’re in Boston? Assuming we can make it there without killing each other, that is,” she added, turning her beautiful eyes to him. Man, black eyes. He hadn’t known those existed. So mesmerizing.

“We lay low. You put in for vacation time. Cancel whatever classes you have, if any. At the first sign that something is wrong, I’ll pull you out and into hiding.”

She narrowed her gaze belligerently. “Shouldn’t I have some say? What about reaching a mutually satisfactory compromise?”

Fuck that. “You agree with me. That’s how we reach a mutually satisfactory compromise.”

She pursed her lips, and murmured in Italian, “Nel mondo dei sogni, bello.” In your dreams, buddy.

He didn’t know Italian, but he was fluent in Spanish, so he got the idea.

“And I still believe your best bet is to disappear for a while,” he pressed on, ignoring her words.

“Can’t. Tate needs me.”

“Tate needs a live sister.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I think that too,” the crazy lady whispered, leaning toward them again. “Men tend to dramatize a lot. Now if you excuse me, the bathroom calls.”

“I have a cabin in the middle of nowhere,” Jack continued after the woman had left. “That’s your safest bet. You have to disappear.”

“Listen, I truly appreciate you getting me out of the police station, and I’m going to do my best not to murder you in your sleep, but get this through your thick skull: there’s no way in hell I’m disappearing.”

“Not asking for your opinion. Or your permission.”

“That’s kidnapping,” she whispered, irate, going nose-to-nose with him.

Such a perfect, cute little nose.

And that he was thinking about that and getting a hard-on while a confrontational woman was facing him off, he didn’t understand.

“Only if I get caught. And I don’t get caught.”

“Don’t even think about it. I will fight you every step of the way if you try to pull a stunt like that on me. If it seems like I’m not being cooperative now, you have no clue what you’ll have on your hands then.”

“An irrational female. The same as now,” he answered.

She sipped more Scotch, muttering something very unflattering.

“Give me a good reason why you can’t disappear. One that makes sense.”

The alcohol came to his rescue, because Elle dropped her gaze and fidgeted. “I failed my sister when our father and Jonah died. I ran and dumped everything onto her. The restaurant, my mother. Emma, Jonah’s girlfriend. All of it. I owe it to her to take care of everything now. She had a rough time with delivery and the baby is a handful. Even with James helping her twenty-four seven.”

Fuck. Guilt. Guilt was a powerful motivator. So was death, though.

He grabbed her chin and tipped her head up to meet his stare. “I can’t guarantee your safety out in the open, pet.”

“I’m not in danger. Not yet anyway. I might not be asked to testify. They’ll get the plane, link it to Aalto, and the feds can make those bodyguards sing, right?” His expression probably wasn’t that reassuring, for she added, faltering, “What do you think my odds are?”

“If they crack the case without you, great. If not, not so good, I’m afraid.” Testifying would mean having to look over her shoulder forever. Maldonado was that dangerous and bloodthirsty. Jail wouldn’t stop him. And standing up to him would mean witness protection. Jack kept that to himself. She hadn’t realized it by herself, and he wasn’t too keen on upsetting her more than necessary.

“No good deed goes unpunished, right?” She smiled sadly.

He didn’t answer. Her good deed had been f*cking illegal, but yeah, he could understand the sentiment.

“You didn’t tell me what you were doing at the police station,” Elle said after a long pause.

“No, I didn’t.”

She shook her head, laughing softly. “And you won’t.”

No, he wouldn’t.

At that moment, the crazy lady, Eve, came back from the bathroom.

“Dear, could I change seats with you?” she asked the woman sitting beside Jack. “I have some things to discuss with this gentleman.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Damn, damn, damn.

“There are two suspicious men in row thirty-two,” Eve said to him. “I think we should—”

The flight attendant approaching, a third Scotch in her hand, interrupted her. “Here you go.”

“No,” he said, before Elle could grab the glass or even say anything. “She’s had enough.”

“I could use a little sip,” Eve chimed in, holding out her hand.

In any other circumstances, he would have kept his mouth shut and let the chips fall where they may, but he found himself saying, “I don’t think the Scotch would go with the blue pill.”