CHAPTER 20

TIMOFEY

Just go get her," Akim pleads with me an hour after Piper and Rooney leave. "You clearly want her back here, so go get her."

I grimace. It's pleasantly quiet without Ms. Quinn screeching in my ear. She's somewhere no one can hear her, locked up in the bowels of the police station with cinderblock walls swallowing up her screams.

It's exactly where I wanted her to be. So why does that mental image grate on me so fucking badly?

"I don't want Piper anywhere."

He snorts. "Not even in a house? With a mouse? Or with a crane on a plane?"

"Fuck off, Dr. Seuss."

"How about doggystyle on the tile?" He laughs at his own stupid joke and then bends his head in apology. "Sorry. I had to."

"I don't want her anywhere, because my life would be easier if she just disappeared."

Akim backs towards the doorway. "Fine. So go get her and then you can kill her if that's what gets your rocks off. But either way, you should go get her. You're in a worse mood than normal and I blame her."

I give him the finger, then leave and get on my motorcycle. I don't have a destination in mind—I just want to ease the roiling knot in my stomach. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised when I find myself riding downtown.

Then winding closer and closer to the precinct.

Now, I'm circling the block.

This shit is getting out of hand.

"It's been almost two hours," I mutter to myself over the purr of the engine. "That's enough to teach her a lesson."

I only wanted to intimidate her, anyway. She needs to understand that I can and will make her life a living hell if she crosses me. A few hours in a cell ought to have done the trick.

I leave my bike at the curb and march up to the building. I'm halfway up the stairs when my phone rings. It's a number I don't recognize.

"Hello?"

"You can't walk through the front doors of a police station."

I check the caller ID. "Why are you calling me from your office phone?"

Rooney curses. "I saw you walking across the street and grabbed the wrong phone. Damn it."

The line goes dead. A second later, my phone rings again. This time, it's Rooney's burner cell.

"You can't be here."

"You are the last fucking person on earth who gets to tell me where I can and can't be." I crack my neck in both directions. "Go get her out of the cell. I'm taking her with me."

There's a long pause before he speaks again. "You're kidding."

"Did you think I was going to have you ship her off to prison?"

"No, I guess not. But—dammit, after everything I went through to get her in the car?" He groans. "You have no fucking idea. She fought the entire way. I thought I was going to have to call a psych unit halfway through the drive."

That catches my attention. "What happened?"

"Your girl is nuts. She was clawing at the windows, screaming like a damn banshee. I thought she was going to break through the partition at one point."

I frown. "How is she now?"

"Quiet, at least. I don't hear her screaming." He sighs. "You can't make arresting her a regular thing. I don't think I can handle it. I've arrested dudes on PCP before and they had nothing on your girl."

She isn't my girl."

"Sure, sure," he says quickly. "Your nanny. Whatever."

I don't exactly love that descriptor, either. She's more to me than that, isn't she?

When I think about it, I guess not. I barely know her. What should I care if she hates being in the police car or if she isn't thriving in solitary confinement? Why should it bother me if Rooney thinks she's nothing more than my employee?

By all accounts, he's right.

"Just go get her," I say aloud.

He huffs out a pouty breath. "Fine. But meet me in the back."

I hang up and walk around the building. The precinct is in an L-shape that takes up half of the block. The other half is dedicated to a parking lot—most of the spaces are taken up by old police cruisers—and a fenced-in recreation area with rusting basketball hoops. There's a white transport bus parked next to a dumpster. That's where I find Rooney waiting for me. He's propped open the back door with a rock.

"She's right through here." He turns and ducks inside. I follow him in. As he passes a door up ahead, he gestures to his right. That door is propped open, too.

"Through there," he says, not turning around. "The key is on the floor and the cameras are rebooting for five minutes. She didn't get booked on her way in, so no paperwork or nothin' like that. Be out before they turn back on."

He turns the corner up ahead, disappearing from view, and I go through the door he pointed out.

The light in here is much dimmer, so it takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust. When they do, I see a series of cells against the wall. They're all empty.

Except for one.

In the center unit, I see a petite figure curled into a ball in the corner. Piper is rocking back and forth, her head wedged between her knees. Her soft whispers fill the air and echo off the cold stone floors.

Maybe a psych unit would have been the right call.

The key is in the middle of the floor. I bend over and grab it. The metal scrapes against the hard floor. At the small sound, Piper jerks her head up.

I meet her gaze. Her eyes are wide and terrified, her pupils blown so wide I can't even see the green in her irises. She's only been here for two hours, but she looks like a ghost of herself.

"What are you—" She gasps when she sees me, her mouth falling open. "How did you—where did you come from?"

I walk to the bars and slide the key into the lock. "There's nowhere you can go that I can't follow, Piper. Remember that."

The thought should terrify her, but she is far too distracted by the tumblers in the door shifting and sliding.

In one breath, she launches to her feet and throws herself against the door to the cell. "Let me out. Please."

"Why else do you think I'm here?"

"Really?" she breathes. "You're letting me go?"

Up close, I can see tear tracks streaked down her cheeks. Her lips are bloodied and swollen from her chewing on them. Even now, she pulls one between her teeth and bites.

I step away. "That depends. What have you learned today?"

She grips the bars until her knuckles are white. "Timofey…I'll do anything. Anything at all. Please, I—I can't stay here anymore. Timofey."

Her lips wrap around my name like a prayer. That alone is enough for me to twist the key in the lock and pull the door open.

Piper doesn't hesitate. She lunges through the gap. For a second, I think she's going to try to escape.

Then she throws herself against me, buries her face into my chest, and sobs.

I've faced some of the most dangerous men in the world with my head held high. I've fought my way through a barrage of bullets without batting an eye.

But this? A beautiful woman weeping on my chest, her tears soaking through my shirt?

This is new.