Risking it All (Crossing the Line, #1)(21)

Good Lord, the girl was a horrible waitress. Why did that make him want her even more?

He didn’t even realize he was walking toward her until Connor stepped into his path, bringing him up short. “Driscol.”

Bowen gave a quick nod, angling himself so he could keep an eye on Sera.

“Look at you, fully clothed. Is there a special occasion?”

“Nah.” Connor shrugged. “I just don’t have a beautiful girl in my bed at the moment.”

His vision swam with red. “I’d be more careful about what comes out of your mouth. I don’t care if this club belongs to your cousin. Don’t talk about her.”

Connor considered him in a way that made Bowen almost uncomfortable. This wasn’t a typical neighborhood guy. Too much went on behind his eyes. A quick glance at the man’s forearm and the navy tattoo told him Connor hadn’t spent his entire life in Brooklyn, like the rest of them. “I just wanted to confirm my suspicion.”

“The suspicion that I’d like to kick your ass?”

“Nope.” He tipped back his bottle of Heineken. “The suspicion that the ladies’ man I’d heard so much about is gone over one chick.”

Bowen accepted a glass of whiskey from the bartender, not bothering to deny it. He’d already screwed himself with his possessive behavior. “So what? You want to go paint our nails and talk about it or something?”

“Funny. You know why I brought it up.” His voice trailed off when the music quieted between songs. When another one kicked in, he spoke again.

“She overheard something. Something she shouldn’t have.”

“Excuse me?” Bowen swore he could feel the blood turning to solid ice in his veins. “We’re talking about Sera?”

“No, the other girl you almost ripped my throat out over.”

“Talk,” he gritted out.

Connor finished his beer and set it on the bar. “Last week. Hogan had a phone conversation in the hallway outside my room. He didn’t realize she was inside changing my bandage.” He glanced over his shoulder at Sera where she took a drink order. When he turned back, his eyebrows were drawn low. “It was the date of the shipment. She heard it. No location, but it was enough to worry my cousin. That’s why she’s marked, man.”

Even having already known Hogan wanted Sera gone didn’t ease the blow of hearing it spoken aloud. Over his dead body would those words ever come true. “The question is, why are you telling me this?”

“I’d be dead if it wasn’t for her. I repay my debts.”

Difficult as it was to admit, Bowen believed him. He’d had a lot of experience dealing with liars, and this guy wasn’t one. Second, he knew all too well the way Sera could work her way under your skin, make you question your own loyalties. Watching her call an order to the bartender, his throat squeezed. He needed to distract himself or he would carry her out of there over his shoulder. “How’d you end up here?”

Connor raised an eyebrow.

“Going from the navy to running small-time game in Brooklyn?” Bowen shrugged. “That’s pretty far to fall.”

“Thanks, man.” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “You want to go paint our nails and talk about it or something?”

“Fair enough.” Bowen watched as Connor laid a twenty-dollar tip on the bar. “Listen,” he said, uncomfortable expressing gratitude. “I owe you one. I repay my debts, too.”

Connor turned to leave, then stopped.

“You might want to clean the blood off your knuckles before you go see her.”

Bowen

showed

no

reaction,

continuing to sip his whiskey. His gaze sought Sera over the rim of his glass, Connor’s parting words echoing in his head. What kind of man had to clean blood off his hands before going to see his girl? A man too tainted to touch her.

The glass froze at his lips when he didn’t immediately see her in the dining room. Quickly, he scanned the bar, panic like a hot poker in his stomach. Relax, she’s probably just in the bathroom.

But when several minutes passed and she didn’t emerge, fear replaced panic.

No way could she have passed him and left the bar. He would have sensed her walking by, would have seen her. She had to be somewhere inside the bar.

His attention snagged on the kitchen, his feet beginning to move before any type of decision registered. When they’d gone out to the alley on Friday night, he’d noticed a door inside the kitchen, one he presumed led to the basement. If she’d gone down there, he prayed she was alone. That she hadn’t been taken down there against her will. Jesus, why had he let Connor distract him? Had it been intentional?

The cook called his name as he entered the kitchen, but Bowen ignored him, taking the stairs leading to the basement two at a time. Her name burned his throat, dying to be shouted, but he didn’t want to alert anyone to his presence until he knew what he was up against. When he reached the bottom, he saw light coming from another door. An office? He went closer, stopping short when he saw Sera, rummaging through a drawer, flashlight wedged between her teeth.

Hogan’s office. She’s looking for the ledger.

The ledger I’ll have to take away.

One my name is definitely in. Probably multiple times.