Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(29)

“She mentioned a stepfather. I need his name.”

The captain actually looked impressed. “She told you that already? Took me months to figure out which card to play to get her here.”

“I don’t understand.” He took a step toward the desk. “And I need to. Now.”

“In front of Bowen?”

Connor considered the former underground Brooklyn criminal whose relationship with him had started off as ambiguous, but had developed into a mutual respect. Bowen bunched his shoulders and glanced away uncomfortably, but Connor could see his answer would matter. A lot. “Yeah, in front of Bowen. If there’s anyone here I trust, it’s him.”

Derek looked between them and nodded. “Most of you are here to avoid prison time. Erin is here to avoid being locked up as well. But not behind bars.” He lowered his voice. “In a mental institution.”

Bowen blew out a slow breath. “You two sure know how to pick ’em.”

Connor gave him the middle finger. “Who’s trying to put her there? Her stepfather?”

“She’ll have to tell you the rest.” Derek sat down at his desk, effectively dismissing them. “I’m done gossiping for the day. Get out there and do your jobs.”



Connor checked his watch again and saw that only a minute had passed since the last time. He scanned South California Avenue looking for blond hair and combat boots. Listened for the sound of tinkling bells. Anything that might signal Erin had decided to show up for their prison visit. On his drive over, he’d still been reeling from the information Derek had provided. No, “reeling” wasn’t the right word. He was livid. A lot of that stemmed from helpless fear. Even now, she could be in trouble and he was standing here unable to help her. Unacceptable.

Even if she showed, what could he say? It had gone unspoken between him and Derek that Erin’s situation was told in confidence. If he came right out demanding to know why someone, most likely her stepfather, wanted to lock her away, she might split. She wanted her freedom; it was important to her and he imagined that extended to the right to privacy. To tell him things about herself when she was good and ready. Too bad he didn’t share that sentiment. Whatever he had to do to keep her safe would be done, come hell or high water.

Dammit, where the hell was she?

“Hey.”

Connor turned just in time to see Erin step out from behind a parked car. He tried not to let his relief show, but on the inside, he felt like a parched desert experiencing its first rainstorm. Jesus, she looked sexy in those skintight jeans and black crop top. She’d traded her combat boots for some red high-top Converse that matched her dark lipstick. He wanted to drag her back behind that parked car and wipe it off with one hand and finger her with the other. Watching her battle outrage and arousal from a front-row seat might make up for the morning he’d spent going out of his mind.

She sauntered toward him, hands clasped behind her back. “Looking for someone?”

“Maybe,” he answered. The closer she got, the less he cared about holding back, giving her space. The closer she got, the harder his pulse pounded. “Where did those clothes come from? More importantly, where did you change into them?”

“The mall.” She rubbed a palm down her denim-encased thigh. “I keep a locker there, too. In case I can’t go home to get what I need before I—”

“Run?”

“Yeah.” She raised a hand as if to lay it on his chest, but hesitated. “Does it make you feel better that this is the first time I don’t really want to?”

“No.”

“It should. It should make you want to kiss me.”

Christ. His cock swelled, pushing against his fly. The word “kiss” coming from those plump red lips shot him full of lust. His body remembered all too well how they’d felt smoothing down his length last night, drawing hard on their way back up. “You and I will never be able to kiss in public. Both times I’ve tasted your mouth ended in us both coming. I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

A breath shuddered out. “So much for me distracting you.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

She glanced toward the massive stone structure that was Cook County correctional facility and shook her head frantically, blond strands flying around her face. “Too many doors closing behind us. Too many people looking. They’ll check me for weapons with their sweaty cop hands.”

Connor experienced a wave of self-disgust. Since they were going into the prison as guests, not inmates, it hadn’t occurred to him that she’d get spooked. Idiot. Of course she would. He’d been so focused on the more immediate threat to her, he hadn’t even thought of it. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’ll come back a different day without you.”

“No,” she hurried to say. “I’m going to help in my own way, all right? I’ll meet you back here in an hour.”

Denial speared him. He couldn’t let her out of his sight this soon. Too soon. Already the calming effect she had on him had started to dissipate. “Erin…”

“Go, Connor.” She gave him a look that said, please trust me. “It’ll be okay.”

Lead in his stomach, he looked her over one final time before heading up the walkway toward the prison. He’d only taken three steps when she jumped onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. His eyes slid closed as she nuzzled his neck with her mouth. Her weight felt so good. Like he’d been walking around untethered all morning until that very second.