Page 27 of Deep (Chicago Underground 8)
“The kind of consequences where you let me leave? Because I could go for that one, actually. Helping you when you were hurt is one thing. I have no interest in being a fugitive for…well, nothing. I haven’t done anything.”
“Hostage, remember?”
Yeah, I wouldn’t be forgetting the breath-stealing terror of having a gun pointed at my head for a while. “I’m serious. I want to go back.”
He sobered. “You can’t. They know where you are. They know who you are to me. You wouldn’t be safe.”
“Wait…” My heart was suddenly beating faster. “You mean, ever? I wouldn’t be safe ever?”
He was silent for what felt like an eternity—an eternity in which my entire life, my future, my family all turned to dust, leaving a wasteland of nothingness for me to live in. “They know who you are to me,” he finally said, almost painfully quiet. As if he understood exactly what he was asking me to give up.
No, what he was forcing me to give up.
“This is crazy. I’ll just go back and I’ll—I’ll talk to the cops. I’ll tell them what happened—”
“And what, kitten? They’ll interrogate you for everything you learned about me, both last night and years ago. They’ll arrest you for harboring a fugitive. Is that what you’re so eager to go back to?”
My lower lip trembled, and I bit down hard to make it stop. “They’ll understand.”
“Barnes is out for blood, and he won’t mind fucking you over just to mess with me.”
“This is crazy. There has to be another way. I can’t just be…gone.”
“And that’s just the cops. The men I saw from the window? They were something else. The cops can’t protect you from them, no matter what they tell you. These men—they’d hurt you. I mean really hurt you, kitten.”
I swallowed, knowing exactly what kind of hurt he meant. The kind with rough hands and cruel sneers. The kind that almost got me years ago, that had been in the process of getting me before Shelly stepped in and saved me. The kind that had kept me afraid and withdrawn all this time, unable to bear even a kiss from a boy, even one as sweet as Sloan.
“I can’t,” I whispered. “I can’t just leave.”
Philip’s expression went completely blank. “You’ll be safe with me. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable—”
“God, you sound like you’re reciting a grocery list. This is my life we’re talking about. My friends. My family. You can’t just tell me all that’s over.”
In a flash the blank mask was gone, replaced with a kind of wild fury. “You think I don’t understand what’s at stake? I avoided you all these years. Avoided touching you, avoided talking to you. All so you’d be safe.” He laughed, a hollow sound. “And in one night it’s ruined.”
A wave of dark pleasure washed over me, to know he wanted me. He had said it in the dorm room, but God, it was hard to believe—after all this time. A man like him could have any woman. I had been a broken little girl. He wouldn’t touch me then.
He’d hardly even looked at me.
He was looking at me now, his eyes piercing, probing.
Part of me wanted to ask more questions, to find out what could have happened between us—without the world intruding. A man and woman, without the masks we wore, the criminal and the ingenue, the master and the student.
The world intruded, though—in the form of red and blue flashing lights.
“Shit.” Philip pressed the intercom. “Get us the fuck out of here.”
Pretty sure Adrian had figured that one out already.
The vehicle sped up and took a sharp turn, tilting on two wheels. Philip settled into his seat, looking determined but not especially worried. Apparently they’d done this chase before.
It was a cold splash of reality. We were not just a man and woman. We could never be as simple as that.
He had an entire criminal empire. He had all of Chicago up in arms, fighting against him or for him. He had the entire police force looking for him.
And me? I was just a girl with no place to call home. No family, no future.
Again.
