Page 50 of Parting Shot

I glanced over my shoulder. “Holding hands?”

“Yeah.” He shivered. “Most guys … don’t.”

And I was one of them. I normally didn’t either. Not in public. It was funny he was thinking I was one of the good guys when that was not the case at all. I was just tired of hiding, and it was bleeding into all areas of my life.

In the cab, he didn’t let go of my hand, and at my place, I had the driver wait as I got out.

“Can I come up with you?” Nick questioned, holding the door open.

His eyes were blustery, so I relented. On the sidewalk in front of the stoop that led up to the security door of my loft, Nick recaptured my hand, lacing his fingers with mine.

“I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Whatever you want.”

So many people walked around who, from the outside, appeared strong and capable and normal. But when you got up close—when you talked to them, listened to them—you realized they were broken. I had no idea until that moment that Nick McCall was the kind of guy who was ready to dive into the deep end with the first person who seemed like they wanted to keep him. It terrified me that he was so fragile. If I took him on this scary undercover adventure with me, he would be mine afterward, and I wasn’t ready to take possession of him. I didn’t want him to belong to me.

“Hey.” I made my voice gentle, reaching out right before the door closed. The cab wouldn’t have to wait after all. I was putting Nick right back in. “I think maybe you’d better go home and sleep off whatever you took.”

His eyes widened. “How did you know I⁠—”

“I’m a police detective, you know.”

He was frightened as he pulled his hand away from me.

“I’m not gonna bust you for whatever,” I apprised him. “But promise me you’ll go home and not back out.”

He coughed. “You don’t want me to come up?”

“Not tonight,” I said, holding the door for him.

As he got back in, I leaned over and gave the cabbie three twenties. “Just not back to where you picked us up.”

I got the head tip from him, but nothing from Nick; he ignored me completely. Watching them drive away, I wasn’t quite sure how I felt. What was really screwed up was that the only option left open to me was Max. Hopefully, I could talk him into it.

“Detective Stiel.”

I turned to find a vintage Lincoln Town Car parked across the street on the opposite curb. There was a man there, leaning against it. It was gorgeous, the car—definitely someone’s baby. It was in mint condition.

“Yes?” I called over to him, wary because the driver was not small.

He was a little older than me and massive in comparison. Another huge red flag was him using my name and me having no clue who he was.

“My boss would like a word.”

“And who’s that?” I didn’t panic or reach for my phone or my gun. I was waiting to see if he was an actual threat or not.

“Mr. Sutter.” He gave me a trace of warm eyes with crinkling laugh lines around them. “He’s upstairs in your loft.”

It was the best news I’d heard all night. Max Sutter had come to me. Now that Nick was out, I would need to convince the younger Sutter to help me. And yes, he’d have to pretend he was sleeping with me, but I was hoping he would be willing to try and pull that off for the greater good and to avenge his old friend.

“Thank you.” I acknowledged the driver before vaulting up the steps. I was surprised to see the man get in the Lincoln and pull away before I went inside.

Upstairs in my loft, I made sure to announce myself when I walked in, calling for Max as I shut the door behind me and locked it.

“Must be nice to be rich.” I snickered, hanging up my topcoat, then the suit jacket underneath, before loosening my tie. “People just let you—Max!”

He had come up from behind me and drove me face-first into the living room wall.