After he was gone, Charlie sat there for a long time, her head down, eyes tracing the same whorl in the bar over and over. She’d seen Jake disappear into this bar before she’d gone into the Met with Dev, and taken a chance he would still be here once her talk was over. It hadn’t been one of her best deliveries, but she hadn’t been able to focus. Sometimes it felt like her time with Jake had been nothing more than a dream. A dream she had been lucky to wake from before it was too late. Lucky to escape while it was still possible.

But had she really? All these months without him, she’d felt as if the best parts of her were locked up, right along with Jake. Even her will to paint had vanished that night. He had done that.

Jake had destroyed her, just like she’d always feared.

Or had the fear done that all on its own?

Was Jake right? Had she ever really let herself trust him? Or had she always held something back, expecting the worst and secretly pleased when it happened? She had run away the night he rejected her, even though she had known it made no sense.

Even though she’d seen the naked pain in his eyes.

Jake had needed her to see past his words, to trust him when he couldn’t trust himself. But she hadn’t been strong enough. She’d crumpled. Stupid girl.

She barely noticed when the stool Jake had vacated was pushed back and someone else sat down.

But she did notice when he spoke. The familiar accent had her head snapping up, eyes wide.

“I think Kuba is right, you are a liar.”

She lifted her chin, refusing to let him intimidate her. “I don’t give a damn who you are. You do not want to mess with me right now, understand?”

Lucjan’s lips curved. He waved the bartender over and ordered two whiskeys before turning back to her. “What exactly have they told you about me?”

“Next to nothing, actually.”

The bartender set the shots down and Lucjan pushed one to Charlie.

“No, they wouldn’t,” he mused. “Jake because after everything, he still trusts me, and Nastka because even when she hates me with all the force of her being, she cannot betray me.” His smile was thin. “Yet even without the benefit of their shared knowledge, you’ve an idea of what I am, don’t you?”

“I gather you’re a dangerous man,” she said slowly.

Lucjan lifted the shot he was holding and saluted her. “Astute as well as talented. I am very dangerous. After all, I am Polish and I carry a gun.”

Charlie stared at him.

“Come on now, that was funny. Not my best, perhaps, but . . .” He tossed back his shot, then sighed when she remained silent. “Am I truly that terrifying?”

“I heard you talking to Karl. That day in the gym.” She took another drink, willing her fingers not to shake as she remembered the expression on the man’s face. The horrible menace in Lucjan’s voice.

“I know.”

“You do?”

Lucjan laughed. “First rule of being a dangerous man, słoneczko. I must know everything.” Then his laughter died, his eyes falling to the empty shot glass. “Except how to get my wife back.”

The emotion in his voice gave her pause, but curiosity made her bold. “What did you do to lose her in the first place?”

“What makes you think it was anything I did?” he countered, staring down at his glass.

Charlie raised an eyebrow and waited.

Lucjan’s eyes cut to hers, then away. “Nastka thinks I betrayed her. She is wrong. But what she saw . . .” He shook his head, shoulders taut. “It wasn’t pretty. I’d give the world if I could have her back.” His laugh was bitter. “I’ve tried to give her the world. She doesn’t seem to want it.”

“Do you know what Jake gave me when he was trying to make me fall in love with him?” she said, staring at the mirror behind the bar.

Lucjan met her reflected gaze. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing. He didn’t give me flowers, or candy, or jewelry. He knew that wouldn’t work.” She smiled faintly, but her heart twisted in her chest as she remembered his single-minded determination to break down her walls. “He didn’t give me the world, he made me his world. The entire focus of his being.”

“I see.” His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “And our Kuba, how does he win you back now?”

“He doesn’t.” Charlie reached for her drink, only to find it empty. She set her hand down, fingers trembling on the bar. She’d made her decision. Hadn’t she?

“Oh, come now. I thought we were being honest with one another.” Lucjan waved the bartender over again.

Charlie waited until both their drinks were full before she spoke, choosing her words carefully.

“All my life people think I’ve been hiding,” she said, the words halting and slow. “But really I think . . . I’ve been screaming internally. Jumping up and down. Waving. That’s what my art is, you know? It’s me saying, notice me. Pick me. Please. See me.” Her fingers spun the shot glass round and round.

“Ah.” Lucjan nodded. “And someone did.”

“Yes.” The word was barely a whisper. Jake had seen her all right, right down to her very soul.

“Then he left.”

Charlie raised her glass to him with a nod.

“He had to do it.”

She sighed. “Did he?”

“I can guarantee you that he did.”

“He broke his word. He lied to me.” But the words sounded hollow, even to her own ears.

“And that is the most awful thing a person can do, is it?” A hint of impatience had crept into his voice. “When a gun is held to the head of the one who holds his heart, a man’s sense of honor tends to go to shit. Promises, words, these things, they mean nothing. Less than nothing.” He gave her an assessing look. “If you could go back, if you could save this sister of yours, what lies would you tell, what sins would you commit to keep her safe?”

Charlie blinked up at him, startled. Lucjan’s eyes were sharp. I must know everything.

“You see. And that is you. A good, law-abiding citizen. Kuba, your Jake—he is not like me, perhaps—but neither is he without his sins. So you take that feeling, that conviction, and you increase it a hundredfold and then maybe you see. There is no law he wouldn’t have broken, no sin he would not have committed, no vow he would not have broken to save you.

“So I think it is you who must decide, do you want to hold on to the words he said? Or to the man that said them?”

Charlie’s fingers were white-knuckled on the bar. Was he right? Was it time to take another chance?

Did she even have the courage do that again?

Lucjan got to his feet. “There is also something you should know. To you it may not matter, but—” he shrugged “—it was my doing that sent Jake to jail. I set him up quite deliberately.”

“But why?” She stared at him in shock.

“I can’t tell you that, słoneczko,” he said gently. “Except my intentions were to save him from a far worse fate. Tell him so, when he asks, would you?”

She nodded absently, her head still spinning, not understanding Lucjan’s sudden smile.

“What is that you keep calling me?” she asked thickly as Lucjan pulled out his wallet.

His eyes twinkled. “Just a small endearment. Whether you like it or not, you’re family now.” He threw a couple hundreds down next to his empty glass, nodding at the bartender. Then he leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Charlie’s head. “Forgive him, Charlie,” he said softly, “if only so he can forgive himself.”

Charlie watched him leave, her throat tight. The bartender gave her an unexpectedly stern look as she gathered up the money and the empty glasses.

“He’s right, you know. Now get the hell out of my bar and go find that sexy Aussie before I do.”

---

A half hour later, Charlie stood outside Jake’s apartment door, trying to find the nerve to knock. Before she could, the door opened. She jumped back, almost as startled as Jake, who stood frozen, keys in one hand, staring at her.

“Charlie?”

“Hi.” She wrung her hands together. She’d only been to Jake and Stacia’s apartment in New York once, but she’d remembered how to get there. But looking at him now, she couldn’t remember what she wanted to say.

He looked incredible. She’d tried not to notice before, but it had been impossible. Seven months in prison, and he was still Jake. A little harder, maybe. But still Jake. The man who made her heart flutter and her knees weak. For a moment, she could only stand there and drink him in.

His jaw was shadowed, the way it always got by late afternoon. She loved the rough and sexy way it made him look. His dark hair was mussed. He’d been running his hands through it again. Probably because of her. She started to shake, realizing how badly she’d screwed things up. He’d abandoned her for a few weeks to save her life. She’d abandoned him for months. And for what? Fear.

Stupid—

No. The voices in her head were wrong. They’d always been wrong. She wasn’t stupid. And she wasn’t a fucking coward.

She leapt at him. Jake’s eyes went wide, dropping the bucket he held, his arms wrapping around her automatically. Big hands slid under her ass. He stumbled, taking her weight as she kissed him. Hot, fierce kisses, one after the other, pouring her soul into every one. But it wasn’t enough, Charlie knew she had to say the words, too.

“I’m sorry. I panicked that night, and after—” The tears came all at once. “I’ve been so scared. Of seeing you. Of not seeing you.” A big hand cupped the back of her head. Jake somehow managed to kick the door closed and keep them both upright. “Ever since that night. When they took you away, I just couldn’t handle it, Jake.”

Stroking her hair, Jake shushed her. Then he walked them across the room and sat on the edge of the bed, keeping her tucked close. “I get it, darl. I never said your fear was less than mine. Just different.”

She lifted her head. “I missed you so much. Every day. It hurt to breathe. I couldn’t even paint. Every time I pictured you in there, locked up, I just couldn’t see the beauty anymore. If I lost you for real, Jake . . .” She blinked at him. “I don’t think I’d survive it.”

He wiped her tears away with both his thumbs, then cupped her face in his big, warm hands. “We both know damn well that there’s too many monsters in this world to give you some flowery bullshit promise that I’ll always be safe. Or that I’ll always be able to keep you safe. Bad shit happens.” He closed his eyes, but when he opened them again that storm-blue was strong and steady. “But I’m willing to risk it if you are. Fuck being scared, Charlie. We can do this.”

“Yes, we fucking can.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.

“And I’m kind of hoping we can fuck, too.” He lifted his head and grinned at her, that cocky smile that went right to her heart. And between her thighs. “The sooner the better.”

She rolled her tear-wet eyes. “You’re such an ass. Speaking of which . . .” She smiled, her hands trailing down his back until she found the ass in question and squeezed so hard, Jake groaned. “How about now?”

“Now works for me.”

---

Eventually, somewhere around midnight, they showered. Where Jake took her up against the wall one more time—slow and hard—her face pressed against the tiles as the water pounded around them and the steam billowed. They had damn near eight months of sexual tension to release and neither was inclined to be shy about it.

It was more than that, though, Charlie thought, as she came down again. It was as if having been apart for so long, their very souls were hungry for each other. Touch, taste, sound and scent, they needed to drown in it all, to drown in each other.

Do you want to hold onto the words, or the man?

She’d take the man, thank you very much. God bless Lucjan. She wanted to think she would have gotten here without him, but there was no doubt the man had saved them precious time. Time neither she or Jake had any intention of wasting.

In fact, they were barely toweled off before he was reaching for her again. Charlie laughed and dropped her towel, running naked into the other room, diving headlong into the bed, relishing the burst of pure joy after months and months without it.

There was a knock on the door, making Charlie jump. Jake’s eyes tracked her tits as they bounced and he dropped his own towel.

“Now is not a good time,” he yelled as he stalked naked toward her.

Charlie giggled and scooted higher on the bed.

Another knock, louder this time. “I don’t give a fuck. Open this goddamn door.”

Stacia. They blinked at each other. The panic in her voice was like an icy knife stabbing through their warm little cocoon. Jake spun around and scooped his jeans off the floor, stepping into them and yanking them up with one hand while he opened the door with his other.

“Stace, what—”

“It’s Lucjan.” She pushed past Jake, ignoring Charlie’s panicked scramble for the sheets that had fallen into a tangled heap on the floor, holding her cell phone in one white-knuckled hand. “Something’s wrong. He was supposed to meet me hours ago.”

Jake frowned. “Meet you? Why—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Stacia snapped. Then she sank to the edge of the bed, dropping her phone to the mattress, her fingers shaking as she covered her face. “It’s been hours. That man has never stood me up in his life. He never would, Jake. Something is wrong.”

Jake pulled his sister into his arms, staring blankly at Charlie over her head, his mouth a tight line of worry.

“But this is Lucjan,” Charlie said, pulling the covers closer. “Who would dare mess with him?”

Stacia lifted her head, her face white. “Somebody scarier. The goddamn Bratva.”

Thanks for reading Charlie and Jake’s story. Stacia and Lucjan’s story, Quicksilver in the Hand, is coming soon.