Page 74 of The Gift
Chapter 21
Coop waited until Erica climbed into the passenger seat, closed her door, and circled the truck to his side. He started the engine then reminded her, “Seat belt.”
She blinked, momentarily disoriented, as if she’d forgotten how this all worked. Drawing a shaky breath, she pulled the belt across her chest and fastened it with a click.
The cruiser lights strobed in his mirrors as he pulled away from the curb. The scene he’d walked into—a man twice her size, looming over her, yanking her hair, and the sound of her pain-filled cries—still clung to him. He gripped the wheel, knuckles turning white, as he imagined slamming his fist into her attacker’s face again.
She sat rigid beside him, her purse clutched in her lap. An overnight bag lay at her feet, a larger suitcase wedged behind the seat. She held a can of pepper spray as if she might still need it.
“Let’s put this away,” he said, reaching over to take it from her.
Her grip didn’t loosen. For a second, he thought he might have to pry it free.
Then she blinked, as if surfacing. “Oh… I… Yeah.” She let go.
He tossed the spray onto the floor behind her seat then took her hand. “You’re safe with me.”
“I know. If you hadn’t arrived when you did…” She reached for his hand, gripping hard, her knuckles turning white. He didn’t pull away. The pain was nothing compared to what she’djust experienced, and if she needed to hold on to get through this, so be it.
He hoped to God he could live up to his promise. All he knew was that he wanted her at his place. Under his roof, behind his locks, where he could watch every window and check out every sound in the night. But it was far from over.
His phone rang. A standard ringtone, nothing special, but Erica’s whole body jerked.
He squeezed her hand then hit the button on the dashboard to put the call on speaker. She didn’t need to be shielded anymore. She was in the thick of it again.
“Cooper, here,” he answered.
“What the hell?” his partner said. “I leave you for five minutes, and you’re going to the mat with a Russian in your girlfriend’s kitchen. What happened to waiting for backup?”
“There was no time. Believe me.”
“Where’s Erica?” O’Reilly asked immediately, the sharpness gone. “Is she okay?”
“She’s with me,” he replied. When he glanced her way, she was watching him instead of out the window. “Shaken up. But okay.”
“Good. Listen. Your guy isn’t talking.”
His hands tightened on the wheel. “He’s not my guy. He’s Kedrov’s.”
“I know,” O’Reilly said. “So does he. He’s sitting in the holding room like he’s waiting for an Uber. No fuss. No lawyer request. No pacing. Just waiting.”
“He believes his boss will rescue him.”
“That’s what it looks like.”
From the corner of his eye, he could see Erica tracking every word. They needed to settle this tonight. “Gruzinsky’s the key,” he said. “If he hasn’t lawyered up yet, keep pressing.”
“Will do.” O’Reilly paused, his voice turning grim. “More bad news.”
She tensed beside him.
“Darren Holt is in the ICU.”
She let out a startled sound.
Coop stared at the dark stretch of road ahead. “They got to him.”
“Yeah. And worked him over pretty good. The hospital lists him as critical but won’t give a prognosis.” That said everything. “A team went by his place. Someone got there first. Laptop and cameras, if he had them, were gone.”
