Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood #20)(65)

She looked like she had had a really long, hard night.

He wished they could stay together, even if there was no sex. He could have done with holding her.

“Did they check you out medically?” he demanded. “In the RV?”

“Yes.” She glanced down at herself. Then she walked over. “I wasn’t hurt. Not really. I don’t know what happened to me.”

Balz released a breath. Outside, a truck’s Jake brake was engaged, the hissing a little too close for comfort. God, all he wanted to do was shut the damn door, lock it, strap ten rifles on his body, and stand guard over her while she got a little rest.

And then what, though.

“You’re just going to let me walk out of here?” she asked.

“You’re not a prisoner.”

“What about my memories?” She lifted her arm as if to touch the side of her head—but then seemed to realize she had a gun in her hand. “I have all of them. From the moment… I first saw you. In the collections room where Herb Cambourg was killed. You and another man were fighting over one of the books. The really old one, that’s still missing.”

“Yup.”

When that was all he said, she shook her head. “Why? Why are you leaving me with my memories.”

“Because they’re yours.”

“Then why did you take them in the first place?”

“I thought it was the right thing to do. It wasn’t. And I’m sorry.”

Erika looked away. Looked back. “You’ve told me nothing really. You’ve explained nothing.”

“Which is why you’re free to go. The less you know, the more freedom you have and the less danger you’re in.”

Provided he could keep that demon away from her.

As they both fell silent, a siren flared somewhere down the street. And then there were a couple of shouts, but they were off in the distance.

He held out the car keys. “It’s a ten-year-old Honda. Silver, black interior. Do you know how to drive a stick?”

“Yes,” she answered absently.

“It’s right out in front, just a block away. I’ll watch you until you get into it.” With a sense of profound regret, he looked over her face, well aware it would be the last time he saw her. “Goodbye, Erika—”

“I’m going to come after you, you realize.” She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “I still have a job to do, and you’re on the wrong side of the law. None of what happened tonight will change the reality of what I have to do.”

“I know. And listen, not that this matters much, but you know those watches?”

“The ones from the Commodore?”

“Yeah. Well, I did steal them from that guy, and I did take them to that dealer’s trailer. I left with five thousand seven hundred seventy-four dollars. I took the cash down to St. Roche’s animal shelter. Call them and ask them about the bag that was left on the desk of their administrator, Wanda Trumain. She’d have seen it as soon as she walked into her office the morning after the theft. She’ll remember it for a lot of reasons, but mostly because she’ll swear that she locked her door the night before and she can’t figure out how anybody could have gotten in there, especially as they have night staff roaming the halls.”

“So you’re saying you’re Robin Hood?”

“No, I’m telling you that I stole from a rich asshole who cheated on his wife and treated her like a piece of art he could acquire and then hang up and forget about. And then I gave the cash that I would have gotten on the black market to an animal shelter that’s trying to take care of mistreated or abandoned dogs and cats.”

“Just like Robin Hood.”

“I’m not ever going to feel bad about it.”

Erika cleared her throat again. Like it was a nervous tic. “How many times have you done that?”

“Since I came to Caldwell? Or over the course of my life?”

“Either. Both.” She pushed some flyaways out of her face. “I don’t know.”

“It’s what I do. I’ve got a knack for getting into places that people try to keep others out of, and I have to do something with what I take. I don’t need the shit.”

“So it’s a game to you?”

“It’s just a way to keep up my skills. And not everybody can have six fucking watches that are worth, collectively, more than a lot of people’s houses.” He shook his head. “Like I said, I am never going to apologize for what I’ve done.”

“And you’re not going to stop, are you.”

“Nope. The proceeds always go to places that need it more.”

He met her right in the eye, but not aggressively. More so that it was clear he was telling his truth, and she was free to judge.

“You know,” she said in a lowered voice, like all her CPD colleagues might be listening in on a wiretap, “I wouldn’t feel bad if I were you, either.”

Balz smiled a little. “Thanks for understanding.”

Her boss-voice came back online. “It’s still illegal. And assuming the things you take are insured, it’s not a victimless crime even if the owners get reimbursed.”

“Still not sorry.”

“It’s wrong.”