Chapter Thirteen
After they’d stopped and procured a new vehicle—and by procured, he meant stolen—and made the necessary arrangements with Derek, Ailish had held his hand all the way to Chicago. Henrik had lost count of how many awkward ways he’d devised for steering the car without letting go, but there had been a shit-ton. Her hand, so small inside his, had a fierce grip nonetheless, as if she was trying to prove going back to her hometown was what she wanted. Even though the trapped-animal energy radiated from her like a lighthouse beacon. Words kept sticking in his throat. Assurances that nothing would happen to her, even if he was cold and dead in the ground. But the time had come to show Ailish, not tell. Put your money where your mouth is.
Rain pelted the truck’s roof as they pulled up outside the defunct recreation center, the basement of which was where undercover squad meetings were held. He was grateful for the shitty weather, because he didn’t like having her exposed. The fact that nighttime had fallen during the drive only eased that worry some. But the sooner they got this meeting over with and he could get Ailish somewhere safe, the better. Until that happened, he was resigned to his gut grinding nails.
“Who will be there?”
Henrik turned Ailish’s hand over, massaging circles into her palm with his thumb. “Captain Tyler.” He thought of the phone call with Derek, which out of necessity, he’d made while Ailish used the bathroom at a rest stop. So she wouldn’t overhear the conversation. “The squad will be there, minus Erin and Connor, since they’re still lying low. No one you need to worry about.”
She nodded. “I’ve never been to this part of Chicago.” Rain filled the silence. “I’ve never been to most of it, actually. Maybe someday—”
“I’ll take you everywhere.” With an effort, Henrik dialed down the intensity. “Is there one place in particular you want to go?”
“No.” She gasped. “Yes. I want to ride the train. The aboveground one, you know? Maybe I can read a book or listen to music…or just look out the window. No one rushing me or telling me where to go.”
Henrik was capable of holding back only a matter of seconds before capturing Ailish around the waist and dragging her onto his lap. Something about the rain, or the darkness of the Chicago evening, made it okay to drop his head and wedge it beneath her chin, inhaling the scent of summer that lingered on her neck, chest, clothes. Her fingertips traced over his head, the scratchiness of his hair growing back after a week of not shaving. “It might be a while before we’re together like this again, baby. You think of me, okay?” His hand slipped up her thigh, straight under the hem of her shorts, toying with the edge of her panties. “You think of me planted inside you. Think of me kissing you. Understand?”
“How could I forget to think of you? We’ll be undercover, but I’ll still see you.” Ailish tilted her head, and Henrik wasted no time sucking the skin beneath her ear, lower, savoring her little kitty-cat noises. “You think of me, too. Like this. Understand?”
Even he could hear the guilt in his laughter. “Ailish, I’m already planning all the ways I’m going to think of you.”
“Name one.” He nipped her ear, making her squeal. “Two. Name two.”
When his throat started to feel crowded, Henrik breathed through his nose. Goddammit, she felt so perfect on his lap. Why did they live in a world where they couldn’t be together without so many gray areas? “I’m going to think of you bandaging my shoulder when you shot me.”
Her spine snapped straight. “That is so rude.”
Henrik twisted a hand in her hair and tugged, tugged until her head fell back on a gasp. “You didn’t mind the rude things I said when my cock had you five feet off the ground.”
That sweet ass shifted around on his lap. “N-no, I didn’t. Is that the other thing you’re going to think about?”
He let his hand travel to the valley between her legs, nudging the seam of her shorts with his knuckles. “Being tucked inside this pussy? I’ll never stop thinking about it. Thinking about how to get back in. When. How.”
“Do we have to go the meeting right this minute?
Henrik breathed through a laugh, but it was edged with misery. “Yeah, baby. We’re already an hour late because of the traffic.”
Ailish nodded, but made no move to get off his lap. “Why do you want to think of me bandaging your shoulder? Isn’t me shooting you a bad memory?”
“No…uh. That was the first time I saw you up close…longer than a few seconds. You were muttering about people creeping up on you and…” He blew out a breath, knowing he was revealing too much, but not giving a shit. Might as well go for broke. “Christ, Ailish. I forgot I’d been shot at all. I just wanted to go on looking at you, baby. Letting you fuss over me. I’d get shot all over again if I got to replay seeing you up close for the first time.” She looked up at him, mouth open, obviously stunned. And she stared for so long, Henrik’s nerves started poking at him. I said too much. “And we both know you checked out my ass, too,” he rumbled, scratching the back of his neck.
Ailish lunged for Henrik’s mouth and he caught her just in time, groaning when she turned and straddled his lap.
“Ahh Jesus, Lish.” His cock was already hard as a rock, straining against the fly of his pants. Want. Want. Want. “We can’t.”
“Yes.” She reached between their bodies and unzipped his jeans. “Yes, we can. I need you.”
They tore at each other’s mouths, kissing each other the way people do in the throes of an orgasm. Without a thought to finesse or propriety. Tongues meeting in the middle to lick, teeth snapping, hands gripping whatever they could find. Ailish’s hands made a quick job out of unfastening his pants, drawing out his cock and looking at it like Sunday dinner. Getting inside her as fast as possible became his ultimate goal, his waiting colleagues be damned. Without bothering to unfasten her shorts, Henrik pressed Ailish back against the steering wheel, yanked her knees up under her chin and pulled the tight material down over her curved ass, ripping off and tossing the garment away.
Then they were back to scrambling, Ailish sliding her sexy goddamn thighs wide on the seat, poising that pussy right over his distended dick and taking him to the hilt, with a maddening little sob of his name. Henrik’s balled fist bashed into the truck’s ceiling, the tight slide of Ailish’s flesh robbing him of rational thought.
“I’m going to starve without you.” He lifted his hips and gave Ailish a few sharp thrusts, rolling those hazel eyes back in her head. “Going to starve without juicing you like this. This sweet redhead pussy, baby. It’s all for me. I’m a fucking monster for it.”
Just as he’d recognized in the woods, Ailish loved being spoken to in a manner that simultaneously ashamed him and felt righteous as fuck at the same time. He coveted the right to speak about her body with ownership. To know how special she was on the inside, while detailing every foul male activity his body needed to complete with hers. And she loved knowing he hurt, the gorgeous brat. Loved knowing she could climb on top of him anytime, anywhere and he’d be fucking powerless to turn her down. It was her tease’s nature and God, he wanted to cultivate it. Wanted her to tempt the hell out of him, as long as she granted him the heaven of being inside her afterward.
Just like every time they touched, Ailish was wasting no time making his balls feel heavy with the need to empty. Her nails dug into his shoulders, tits thrust out, hips flicking up and back like a working girl. Her thighs were so far apart, he had the perfect view of her pussy struggling to take his entire cock with every swift, rocking movement. And yeah, he wanted to throw her down onto the seat and pound like a motherfucker, but watching Ailish perform, watching her battle pleasure, was something he couldn’t pass up.
Henrik settled a hand on her ass so he could feel her pump, as well as see it up close. “Goddamn. You’re working overtime on it like you’ve got something to prove.” An easy slap, just to hear her cry out. “How does that dick feel? How does it feel knowing you control it? Crook your little finger and get me hot, don’t you?”
As if his words had wet Ailish up even more, she moaned at the ceiling, her ass cheeks clapping against the inside of his thighs as she rode him. “I—yes, yes. It feels so good. I love it. It’s mine.”
Without an order from his brain, Henrik’s hand shot out to grasp her jaw, bringing their faces close together. “It is yours, Ailish. Yours to care for. And you better take that job seriously, because your tight pussy has ruined me for my own hand. What the fuck else am I going to do but take it out on your body?”
Her eyes were bright, lust-glazed. “I’ll t-take care of it.”
Henrik released her jaw and fell back against the seat, allowing his touch to travel up her inner thigh, finding the little pink bud there and rubbing it, using the pad of his thumb. “I take care of this, too. Always. When you need it. And sometimes when you don’t realize you need it.” A groan spilled from his mouth when she worked herself on him faster, her lips, thighs, hands starting to shudder. Flesh slapped; breath grew choppy. Close. She’s close. “When this is over, Ailish? The first time we’re alone together? I’m going to take everything off my bed except a fitted sheet so I can plow you like a goddamn field without a single damn thing in my way. Nothing for you to grab on to but me. You be ready, understand?”
His sincere warning did it, sent her into oblivion a few seconds before Henrik followed, powerless to stop the tumult when her walls clenched around his hurting flesh. Sticky moisture pooled where their bodies met, but it only seemed to turn Ailish on more, his not-so-innocent girl grinding down into the wetness with a reveling cry, another trembling wave passing through her body and hitting him square in the soul.
There were words fighting to leave his tongue, but he pressed his lips together and held them back. With what was to come inside the meeting room, though, she would hate him all the more if he vocalized the feelings storming inside his chest. So instead, he tugged Ailish down onto his chest, wishing for all the world he could absorb her, carry even a small part of her around with him over the next couple days. Knowing they only had a few more minutes of being close, existing without betrayal, Henrik stroked her red hair, breathed her in.
“I have something for you.”
She sat back and looked down at his lap. “Something else?”
Henrik wanted to laugh, but couldn’t quite manage it. Nor could he manage to tear his gaze off Ailish as he reached into his jeans pocket to remove the jewelry box he’d been carrying around since yesterday. Eagerness hit him, so intense he couldn’t wait for Ailish to open the gray suede box herself, popping it open between them. He held his breath as she looked at the contents, pressing delicate fingers to her mouth, but not quite stifling her gasp.
“You bought me a necklace?” She took the box, running a light touch over the silver charm. It was in the shape of a key. “It’s beautiful, Henrik. Thank you.”
He took the box and removed the necklace, memorizing the way she bit her lip and lifted her hair, excitement dancing in her eyes. “This key means something. It’s the key to your freedom. You understand, Ailish? I need you to wear it and remember I’ll never let someone lock you away ever again.” He managed to fasten the tiny clasp, not an easy feat with big, blunt fingers. “As long as you’re wearing it, you’re acknowledging that. Okay? I hope you never take it off.”
Cloaked in quiet trust, she shook her head. “I won’t.”
Forgive me for what I have to do, baby.
...
When Henrik and Ailish walked into the squad room fifteen minutes later holding hands, impatience hung in the air like humidity. Derek paced behind his desk, fists flexing at his side. On one end of the room, Austin and Polly leaned against the cinder-block wall, speaking in hushed tones. Bowen and Sera were tucked up in a corner, Sera perched on her boyfriend’s lap as usual, writing in her notebook while Bowen read over her shoulder.
The quiet scene in the room changed dramatically when Henrik and Ailish walked in—five pairs of sharp eyes landing on Ailish, making judgments and gauging her usefulness. When Ailish released his hand, crossed her arms, and sized them up right back, Henrik’s pride in her expanded more than ever.
On cue, Sera gained her feet and glided across the room with a hand out. “I’m Sera. Sorry for the lack of warm welcome. We’re actually not so bad once you get to know us.” She treated each of her squad mates—including Bowen—to a raised eyebrow. “Maybe they just need a reminder you’re here to help?”
A chair scraped back, Bowen the first to take his wife’s less-than-subtle hint. Henrik bit down on the urge to drag Ailish into his side as the ex–gang leader approached to shake her hand. “Bowen. And we are that bad.” He pecked a kiss onto Sera’s cheek. “Except this one.”
Ailish’s expression softened. “Oh, another couple.” In what seemed to be an unconscious move, Ailish uncrossed her arms and took Henrik’s hand again, while still addressing Bowen and Sera. “Do you double-date with Connor and Erin?”
Bowen’s laughter bounced off the walls until Henrik silenced him with a scowl. “We’re not too social,” the former Brooklynite explained. “But do me a favor and ask Connor that same question next time we’re all together. Just so I can see his face.”
“Sure,” Ailish returned. “But I’ll lay odds on a frown.”
“Funny you should mention odds,” Derek cut in, approaching to their right. “Since information about your father’s gambling operations is why you’re here.”
Irritation pulled at the top of Henrik’s spine, and this time he did draw Ailish up against his side. No help for it. His nerves were starting to fray at the inevitability that was fast approaching. “You think she could shake off the rain before you start interrogating her?”
The captain was unfazed. “If you weren’t an hour and a half late, I would consider it.” He went back to his desk. “As it is, however, we don’t have a lot of time for introductions, so take a seat.”
“Was there a please in there?” Ailish wanted to know, not budging an inch and making Henrik want to kiss her pouty mouth until she ran out of air.
Clearly well used to working with strong women—not to mention being married to one—Derek gave a single nod. “Please take a seat, Ms. O’Kelly. We’re on a time crunch.”
Henrik reached for the nearest folding chair, dragged it over, and grunted, indicating that Ailish should take it. Before she sat down, she went up on her toes and whispered in his ear. “Henrik?”
“Yeah, baby,” he rumbled, letting his hand settle on her hip.
“I won’t ask you for a please since you just rocked my world.”
When Austin gave a discreet cough across the room, Ailish’s cheeks turned pink and she quickly dropped into the chair in front of Henrik. “Well,” the con said. “That clears up the mystery of why they were late quite handily, doesn’t it?”
Polly elbowed her boyfriend in the ribs, but the hacker was definitely battling a smile. “I’ll start, since I’m”—she shrugged, glancing around the room—“the best. I mean, let’s not sugarcoat it.”
Austin nodded in agreement.
Bowen’s eye roll could probably be heard two states away.
“I tracked the man who stole Ailish’s money in Wisconsin—Eamon Lindt—and found him in Miami, because that wasn’t an obvious choice.” Henrik watched Ailish’s shoulders stiffen at the information relayed by Polly. When she’d told him about Eamon—or Cubs Cap, as she’d referred to the man—he’d been collecting information to keep her safe, but she would see his sharing it with the squad a breaking of confidence. And there was nothing he could do about it. “Since Connor and Erin are keeping their heads down anyway,” Polly continued, “we sent them down to bring Captain Obvious back. They should be on a plane as we speak.”
Henrik sensed Ailish staring up at him, knew there would be questions in her eyes, so he couldn’t look. “So we should be good to go for tomorrow morning?”
Polly gave him a thumbs-up. “You can thank Austin for taking care of designating a safe house for Ailish to cool her heels while you’re on the inside with Daddy-oh. No one will be able to find her, except me. So be glad I’m not looking.”
Ailish’s spine had gone straight. She started to speak, but Derek’s voice boomed before she got the chance. “Bowen and Sera will be guarding you, Ms. O’Kelly, replaced by Polly and Austin every other day until this is over.” He ran a hand over his day-old beard. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t?” Henrik couldn’t ignore Ailish this time. She stood and turned, confusion swirling in her beautiful eyes. When he offered no immediate explanation, she paled a little more, facing Derek again. “Why are you bringing Eamon back to Chicago? I don’t understand.”
Derek and Henrik exchanged a glance, the captain correctly interpreting what lay in his expression. He hadn’t told Ailish the actual plan. Derek leaned back on his desk and sighed. “Henrik is going to take Eamon as an offering to your father. He was in possession of the money you stole when Connor and Erin found him in Miami. Henrik hands over the thief, the stolen cash, and he’s in.”
Over her shoulder, Ailish pinned Henrik with a shaken look. “You said you were using me to get in. You”—her voice dropped—“you promised we were in this together.”
Henrik wanted to claw his skin off just witnessing the pain flashing lightning bolts across her face. His heartbeat had dropped to a dull, lifeless beat at the loss of her. He’d lost her, just like that. “I can’t take you in there, Ailish. If something goes bad with me, suspicion will land on you by association. Don’t you know I would do anything to prevent putting you in danger? Anything.”
“Including lying to get me back here.” The remaining color leached from her face. This time when she whispered, it was for Henrik’s ears alone. “Were we…was it real? I—”
“Yes.” Henrik gripped her shoulders and shook, unable to control his own body or the sick feeling permeating his gut. “You can’t actually be doubting that. Look at me. You can’t be.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, before tugging out of his grip and taking in the room, as if through fresh eyes. It didn’t go unnoticed by Henrik that she hadn’t given him an answer. Oh no. It was an uncertainty that made him wish for a quick death. “So what? You leave me with them, while you go to work for my father?” She shook her head. “I don’t want to be protected anymore. You know that.”
“As soon as you tell Henrik what he’s looking for inside the house, he’ll spend the night preparing,” Derek answered quietly, addressing only the first of Ailish’s questions. “Although in this case, there isn’t much for him to prepare for, considering he’s just playing himself.”
“Sometimes that’s the hardest part to play,” Austin interjected, with a nod at Henrik. “We have a longer night ahead than you think. Best get started.”
Sera moved toward Ailish. “We can take you to the safe house, make sure you get cleaned up and have something to eat.” She laid a hand on Ailish’s forearm, her tone comforting. “Tomorrow is soon enough for Derek to speak to you at length, but for now, just give Henrik an idea of the lead he’s looking for. That’s all we need tonight, then you can get some rest.”
Henrik couldn’t see Ailish’s face, but when her shoulders squared, he knew what was coming. Knew it better than anyone in the room. Ailish might have lived her life according to everyone else’s rules and plans, but she sure as shit wasn’t playing the docile daughter now. Even in the midst of the swamping dread, Henrik was proud as hell of her. Wished their connection hadn’t been severed, so he could share the moment with her. Beg her to reconsider afterward.
Ailish dropped into the folding chair and crossed her legs. “I’m not telling Henrik anything. Or you,” she said, nodding at Derek. “I’m not cooperating. And I’m not going to any safe house. So why don’t you go ahead and put me in a cell?” She held out her wrists, an invitation to cuff her. “Congratulations, you have the Bookie Cookie in custody.”
Even though he’d expected an extreme reaction from the captain, seeing the hardening of Derek’s jaw—along with the added interest from his squad mates—made Henrik question his decision to bring Ailish back. Question his decision to trust the captain’s word.
“We had a deal,” Henrik reminded Derek. “It. Stands.”
Derek laughed without humor, scrubbing both hands down his face. “Christ. This squad is going to fucking kill me.” The captain was quiet for long moments. Too long. Moments that tempted Henrik with scooping up Ailish and making a run for the door. Taking her somewhere and explaining what it would do to him if she were harmed under his watch. Or worse, if he was responsible for her being harmed. She would have to understand if he explained his actions—his reasons for lying—enough, right? Finally, Derek spoke, breaking the silence in the dim basement. “You go home, Henrik. Take Polly and Austin, get ready for tomorrow.” He lifted his head. “My word stands. She’ll be safe, and she’ll walk out of here without a record. But you sure as hell better bring me my man.” A pause dragged out. “Or you’ll be taking her place in the cell. We clear?”
When Ailish turned her attention on Henrik this time, he saw beneath the wall she’d thrown up. Saw her alarm at the idea of him going away on her behalf…and God, he almost laughed. Baby, you have no idea.
“Clear as crystal,” Henrik grated. “I don’t think I have to tell you that if something happens to her, I’ll paint this town with blood. Do I?”
“Yours or ours?” Austin drawled, calculation in his eyes.
Not deigning to answer, Henrik took one final look at Ailish, so beautiful and out of place among the harsh lighting and filthy walls, and strode from the room, painfully aware that he’d left his heart beating in the dank basement.
Good thing where he was going, he wouldn’t need it.