Risking it All (Crossing the Line, #1)(58)

Sera should have felt surprise. Or relief. Remembering the state he’d been in leaving the apartment last night, it didn’t seem possible he’d left the man alive.

Yet

she

believed

him

wholeheartedly.

“Why didn’t you do it?” she whispered, aware of the other man still standing close by.

“I don’t know.” His throat muscles worked. “I wanted you to be proud of me or something.”

She scrubbed a hand over her hollow-feeling chest. “I am. I’m proud of you.”

Finally, he let her lead him toward the door. Before they walked out, he turned to the man who’d been pounding him with fists only minutes ago. “The debt is squashed.”

The man deflated. “Thanks, man.”

Bowen shook his head. “No more.

Lose your money somewhere else. I don’t want it.”

I’m proud of you.

Bowen focused on those words, let them mingle with the pain in his jaw, his head. No one had ever said that to him.

He never realized it until he heard them.

He’d done something right. It wouldn’t make a difference now, but at least she didn’t think he was a total monster. Part of him wished he were still standing in that house, fists connecting with his face.

He’d craved that pain, found it beautiful as long as it distracted him from the image of her running away from him.

Pointing a gun at him and calling him a murderer. Hating him.

He’d only meant to let the guy get one good shot at him, but it felt so damn good to feel something other than loss.

There is no us.

She would leave as soon as this investigation wrapped, leaving him with the knowledge of her and no way to achieve the contentment she provided ever again. In his mind, she might as well have already walked out the door.

It made him feel sick and raw and frantic. Made him want to beg her to turn the car around so he could seek out more of the reality-blurring pain.

Sera took a left, steering the car toward his block. “Why didn’t you tell me you were working with the police?”

Her question dragged him back from his helpless rage, but didn’t detract from it. Too much of it existed. He could feel it gathering, expanding, multiplying inside him. She’s leaving. She’s as good as gone. “Why would I do that, huh? So you’d know you’re safe with one of the good guys?” He pulled at his hair, bitterness lacing his tone. “I’m not a good guy. I might not be the guy who killed your brother, but I’m closer to their kind than I am to yours.”

When she flinched beside him, he wanted to throw himself out of the moving vehicle, but managed to remain in his seat. After a heavy silence, she spoke quietly. “Is that the only reason?

This could have been much easier if I’d known you were on my side.”

No way would Bowen tell her what his other orders had been. Remove the ledger from her possession, take it to the commissioner. He couldn’t do it, anyway. Couldn’t take away her chance to prove herself. More importantly, the ledger was her ticket out. The ticket he’d never been given, but always wanted.

She’d be gone from him, but at least she’d be safe.

He breathed through the agony of knowing he’d be without her soon. When she saw his name among the other criminals in Hogan’s ledger book, she’d be thankful. “Keeping it to myself wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. They threatened me if I did otherwise. Didn’t think you would appreciate the help and would do something rash.” He stared at her until she gave him her attention.

“You won’t be, by the way. Doing something rash.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. If you’d been honest in the beginning, things might have been different.” She drifted to a stop outside his building and put the car in park. “It’s up to me to fail or succeed. Not you.”

Frustration burned in his gut. At Sera, for not realizing the kind of danger that surrounded her. At himself, for hearing the truth in her words and wishing he’d come clean on day one. She’d deserved that much from him. “Fail or succeed,”

he scoffed. “You realize what failure means? They’re not going to let you waltz out of Brooklyn. Not after how close you were. Not after what—” He cut himself off, remembering she knew none of this. Knowing it would drive an even bigger wedge between them.

“After what?”

His jaw flexed. “You overheard something important. A date.” He watched the wheels turning behind her eyes, waited to see if she would pretend ignorance and prove she still didn’t trust him.

She tugged the keys out of the ignition and handed them over. “I don’t remember hearing anything about a date.

Who told you I did?”

Based on her expression, she already knew, but wanted to hear him say it.

“Connor. You’re marked, Sera. Hogan doesn’t like loose ends.”

“Connor.” A touch of hurt flashed over her features. “I wonder why he didn’t just take care of me last night and be done with it.”

Bowen went still. “Last night?”

She glanced at him warily. “He was outside

Marco’s,

right

before…it

happened.”