Against his better judgment, he changed lanes. The station lights appeared within minutes. He pulled into the lot and parked but didn’t get out. Instead, he took her hand again and let out a breath.
“I hate asking this of you.”
She laid her free hand over both of theirs. “You aren’t asking,” she insisted, like the day at the Wilson house. “I want this thing with Kedrov over. And I want to keep building what’s between us.” Her eyes held his, clear despite everything. “I think we’re worth the risk.”
Something in him stilled. Not the Ranger. Not the man calculating threats and timelines. Only Vince, hearing what he hadn’t dared hope for.
But the decision was made. She was doing this, but not without him at her side every moment.
Chapter 22
The station felt different at night. Every sound carried. Footsteps echoed in empty hallways. Radios crackled in distant rooms.
Coop kept Erica close as they moved toward the secure wing. She didn’t speak, but her tension was obvious in her shortened breaths and tight shoulders as she braced for what lay ahead.
He shouldn’t be doing this, walking her toward a man who’d kill without hesitation, less than an hour after dragging her out of his hands because he needed what she could pull from him.
They rounded a corner and nearly collided with O’Reilly.
He stopped short when he saw Erica. “Don’t tell me you’re taking her in there. He nearly kidnapped her tonight.”
Coop went rigid, his hand flexing at his side. He didn’t need a reminder. It was forever burned into his brain.
Her fingers brushed his arm, aware of the tension roiling in him. And though she spoke to Justin, it was a reminder to him. “It’s fine. I volunteered for this.”
O’Reilly glanced between them. “You sure this is necessary?”
Again, Erica answered him. “I might be able to speed things along.” She huffed a humorless laugh. “Heaven knows I could use the sleep.” Impatience slipped through, the only crack in her armor, when she looked up at him. “Can we do this?”
He didn’t answer right away, still weighing his options, searching for another way out.But there wasn’t one and admitting it twisted something deep in his gut.
“I’ll be in observation,” O’Reilly said. “In case it goes sideways.”
“It won’t. I won’t let it,” he said, the Ranger in him clashing hard with everything else.
They continued down the hall to Interrogation Two. Keycard in hand, he murmured, “Last chance to back out.”
Her determination didn’t waver. She said with a hint of a smile, “This isn’t my first rodeo. I promise I won’t break.”
That didn’t set his mind at ease. Nothing would until this was done. But he swiped the card and when the lock disengaged with a heavyclunk, he led her inside.
Gruzinsky sat cuffed to the metal ring bolted into the table. Bruised cheekbone, split lip still fresh, courtesy of his right hook. The Russian’s eyes narrowed the moment he entered, a scowl twisting his lips. Then he noticed Erica.
“She’s that psychic,” he said in a heavy accent. “What’s she doing here?”
“Consulting.” Coop gave him nothing else.
“Bullshit,” Gruzinsky grumbled.
He pulled out the chair across from the Russian then stepped aside so Erica could sit. As she passed, he saw her tremble, barely, but enough. He brushed his hand lightly along her back, a subtle reassurance.
She didn’t look at him, but her shoulders eased a fraction. That was when, against every instinct, he had to let go and trust her to do this.
He took a position at her shoulder, close enough to be there, not too close to interfere. She wasn’t doing this alone.
***
Erica moved the cold metal chair closer to the table. It scraped loudly across the tile floor, a grating sound that set her teeth on edge.
