“Tell it to someone who cares,” she muttered.
She watched him leave, and betrayal lay like lead in her stomach. Brianne didn’t give a damn that he obviously felt bad or that he’d apologized. She also didn’t give a fig that she’d brought this on herself by refusing to promise.
If she had, she would have been lying, and she refused to lie to Jake. She yanked hard, but the metal cuffs were attached to a metal chair and neither would budge. Furious, she grabbed the magazine and began flipping through it, not really paying attention to what she saw. But when the minutes ticked by and Brianne realized he wasn’t coming back, she had no choice but to settle in for the duration.
From the mailing label on the front, Brianne knew the magazine belonged to Rina, and she hoped for some interesting reading. She glanced at the television. Trashy talk shows weren’t going to be enough of a distraction. She swallowed over the pain in her throat.
She crossed her legs and began to flip through the pages once more, stopping only when she reached the article entitled, “Sexy City Nights.” “Lovers in New York City.” “Hot Spots, Hot Nights, Hotter Sheets.” Brianne laughed despite herself, but when she caught a glimpse of the photos, she stopped and looked closer. In the first, dusk was setting around a couple outside an ice-cream shop, and memories of Brianne’s night at Peppermint Park with Jake came flooding back into her mind.
When she thought of that night, it wasn’t the sex that stood out, although it had been incredible. And it wasn’t the dessert, although the rich treat had been delicious. What stood out was how hard Jake had tried to pick a place that would mean something to her. How he’d attempted to give back what she’d been deprived of in the past. And how he’d believed her when she’d questioned him about being followed. He may not have revealed his suspicions, but he hadn’t discounted hers, either. Not the way her parents had, way back when.
Because he cared.
Not that his caring meant she’d forgiven him for cuffing her to this damn chair, but if his reasons mirrored hers for walking into The Eclectic Eatery in the first place, she could begin to understand.
Caring. Love. A future? All things she now knew she wanted. She couldn’t stand by and watch him walk out of her life without a fight. Losing him that way wouldn’t be as bad as losing him to a bullet-because he’d be alive-but he was worth fighting for.
She studied the pictures on her lap. Interesting, erotic images of ecstasy. Without warning, Norton lifted his head and stood, then began barking and bolted for the other room.
“Traitor,” she muttered. “Jake?” she called. She rose and started to walk, but the chair and the cuffs held her back. “You’re going to pay for this,” she yelled out in frustration.
She heard the heavy tread of footsteps coming toward the kitchen. “Come uncuff me, will you?” Then maybe she could work on the forgiving angle. Maybe.
“My pleasure.”
Brianne turned toward the open doorway of the room in time to put a face to the voice-the accented voice of a man who couldn’t be anyone other than Louis Ramirez.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HE’D ACTUALLY HANDCUFFED Brianne. And guilt lay like lead in Jake’s stomach. He took the elevator down to the lobby. He waved to the doorman who followed him out, holding the door open as he exited the building. Jake turned right at the corner and headed for the subway, but the entire time his conscience and his heart told him to go back. So did the niggling in his brain that had begun when Vickers called and told him Ramirez was turning himself in.
Jake shook his head at his thoughts. He was just preoccupied with Brianne, as usual looking for any excuse to put her before this case. He couldn’t believe she wouldn’t do something as simple as promising him she’d sit tight. And he reminded himself she wouldn’t be tied up now if he’d been able to trust her. Stubborn, headstrong woman. She’d already proven she’d take dangerous risks, given the right incentive.
The right incentive. Jake paused at the top of the steps leading down to the subway.
His heart squeezed tight in his chest, and Jake slapped his hand against the hard metal railing. How the hell had he let those words slip by him unnoticed? Because for the first time since meeting Brianne, he’d been a cop before a man. A detective before the man who loved her in return.
He’d turned a deaf ear to her words and her pleas. He’d cuffed her to a chair and left her alone…so he could watch Ramirez walk himself into a police station and willingly give up?
Not likely. Jake shook his head as reality reared its head. There wasn’t a chance in hell Ramirez would willingly admit defeat and surrender. No possibility at all. Which meant…the phone call to the cops had been a setup.
“Shit.” Jake turned and hit the street at a dead run. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.
A few minutes, but what felt like hours later, he re-entered the building-and the doorman was nowhere in sight. A quick glance behind the desk confirmed Jake’s worst fears. The man lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. The
“Where’s Harry?” the woman asked.
Jake didn’t think she’d like his answer, so he dug into his pocket and flashed his badge instead-a move that stopped both people cold and had them exchanging wary glances.
Jake reached behind the desk for the telephone and pulled it onto the high counter. “Call 911. Give the police the address and tell them it’s the penthouse,” Jake called over his shoulder as he ran for the elevator.
During the silent ride up to the apartment, Jake’s life passed in front of his eyes. It was a cliche he’d heard other cops describe, but it was real. And everything he saw, everything he wanted now and in the future, included Brianne-if Ramirez hadn’t hurt or killed her already, he thought fearfully.
Moving on autopilot, he removed his sneakers in order to maintain the element of surprise. He positioned himself flat against the side of the enclosed area, a place that he hoped hid him from immediate view. At last, the elevator doors slid open. A quick glance told him Brianne and Ramirez weren’t in the open entryway.
Gun in hand, he crept silently into the apartment. He knew better than to call out, but damn he wished he knew where to check first. Though he’d left Brianne in the kitchen, it seemed unlikely Ramirez would keep her in the open, unlocked room. Then again, he’d have to move both Brianne and her chair, something Jake knew Brianne wouldn’t allow. Not without a kicking, screaming fight.
He started toward the kitchen, just as Norton ran into the room, doing his infamous run-and-skid routine. The dog normally saved the bit for Brianne. Norton being happy to see Jake when Brianne was around was unusual, and the knot in Jake’s stomach tightened.
He knelt down beside the excited dog. “Come on, boy. Where is she?” he whispered.
Norton nudged Jake’s leg and started running. Jake mentally took back any bad thing he’d ever said or thought about the dog. In Jake’s book, loyalty to Brianne counted for everything. The dog led him to the kitchen. As Jake got closer, he heard the sounds of a scuffle.
No matter how much he wanted to storm into the room, he had to know what was going on first. Jake paused alongside the wall to the left of the entry and looked around the corner and into the room where he’d left Brianne. He nearly lost control at what he saw.
Ramirez loomed over Brianne. Her blouse was torn, and Ramirez rested his hand, which held a gun, on her shoulder, while his free hand hovered over her breast. Fury and a possessiveness unlike any he’d ever known ripped through Jake, but the other man’s gun kept him silent. He knew he didn’t have a clear shot at Ramirez as long as the thug stood in front of Brianne.
Taking a gamble, Jake walked into plain view and leveled his gun at the other man. “Let her go, Louis.”
Ramirez rose to his full height and turned, but kept his weapon on Brianne’s shoulder, aimed at her head. “Welcome home, Detective.”
Jake’s aim didn’t falter, either. “Drop the gun.”
