Risking it All (Crossing the Line, #1)(73)

“No one will recognize me.” She rose from the bed, her naked body still flushed from his touch. He had to pause in the act of dragging on his T-shirt to watch her approach, she was so goddamn beautiful. How could this girl be in his room? Listening to his foul words and still wanting him?

“You’re not coming with me.”

She obviously wanted to argue, wheels turning behind her expressive eyes. “You realize the only other option is to leave me alone here?”

“No, it’s not,” he bit off. “I’ll take you to Troy and Ruby.”

Fear coated her expression. Fear? His body had a physical reaction to seeing it on her face. “No, Bowen. No cops.”

“What happened last night, Ladybug?”

He had to work to keep his voice even.

“Before you came back to me?”

She looked down at the ground, obviously still not ready to talk about it.

Her unwillingness to confide in him hurt.

Badly. He watched as she changed tactics, tried to distract him. Even though he knew her game, he also knew it would work. She slipped her arms around his neck and held him tight. “No one can protect me like you. If you want me to stay in the car, I will, okay? I don’t want to be pawned off on someone else.”

Her compact curves felt too good against his, her confidence in him heady.

Did he want to leave her side for one single second? Hell no. She would be safest with him. And if he allowed himself to see reason, the parking lot of a correctional institution might be safer for her than Bensonhurst right now.

“All right.” His fingers traced down the slope of her back. “Go ahead and take a shower. Much as I like having my scent all over you, I want you comfortable.”

“Bowen,” she murmured into his chest.

“Today.

We’ll

talk

about

everything today, okay? That’s a promise.”

He forced himself to release her, watching until she disappeared into the bathroom.

Bowen walked down the hallway of the infirmary, where the harried nurse had directed him. He didn’t spend a lot of time in hospitals, but he imagined the Rikers Island infirmary looked nothing like the fancy Manhattan ones most men his age went to to visit their fathers.

Lenny would hate being here, would consider any kind of care performed on his behalf as a weakness. A lessening of his manhood. The number of times he’d resisted medical attention reminded Bowen he’d inherited at least a small part of Lenny. Right at this moment, with his potential fate staring him in the face, it was an unwelcome thought.

To his left, two male nurses who looked more like nightclub bouncers played checkers. They eyed him lazily as he passed, as if they knew something he didn’t. It made him itch between his shoulder blades, urged him to turn around and leave this place so he could focus on getting Sera somewhere safe.

Somewhere they could be together without looking over their shoulders as they walked down the street.

He stopped in front of the hospital room door he’d been sent to, bracing himself for what he would see on the other side. A man who had once been his hero and tormentor, hooked up to machines?

Bowen pushed open the door and came to a halt. Lenny sat in a chair wearing street clothes, cursing at the remote control he had pointed at the television. The picture of health, not a sign of injury marred his robust frame.

First came the relief, but rage followed closely on its heels.

“Took you long enough,” Lenny remarked

casually,

without

even

bothering to look at him. “Chrissakes, daytime television sucks. You know what I miss most about being on the outside? HBO. Miss it even more than you, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.” Bowen yanked the door closed behind him. “What the f*ck is this?”

“This? This is a favor I called in.”

Lenny tossed the remote onto the unused hospital bed. “I knew I wouldn’t get you down here any other way. Still got a soft spot for your old man?”

“Maybe I just came down to make sure you were dead.”

“And if I wasn’t? Were you going to finish the job?” Lenny laughed. “Sorry to disappoint. The only thing capable of killing me on the inside is the food.”

Bowen crossed his arms impatiently.

“Explain yourself or I’m out. A reunion wasn’t on my to-do list for the day.”

“What was on your to-do list, son?

Besides the waitress.” He used his fingers to symbolize quotation marks as he said the word “waitress.” White-hot heat punctured Bowen’s chest, traveling down his entire body. Panic, fury, denial hit him, one by one. When Lenny laughed, Bowen knew the fire burning out of control inside him was showing on his face. How much did his father know? Did he know Sera was a cop? Or was it merely speculation passed on from a suspicious Wayne?

He had to play this exactly right. “Let me ask you a question. When did you and Wayne become so fascinated by what chick I’m bagging?”

Lenny stood slowly, his trademark scorn contorting his features. There he is, my father. This is him, not the affable joker I walked in on. “I’ll tell you when. Since you let a man get away with a blatant show of disrespect. Let him come into our neighborhood and spit where you live. And you let him walk?”