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I took that as a sign. Enzo was winning. Besides, they were brothers. He would be fine. If Benito found me, I wouldn’t be.

The elevator dinged as the doors slid open. I checked on Pen in the crate. He yelled at me, letting me know exactly how he felt about the situation.

“I’m sorry, bud, but I can’t have you sliding around in the car.” I crouched down, rifling through the bag. I’d tossed my keys on top of it, but they weren’t there. “I guess we’re walking. Wallet,” I said, yanking it out. “We can get a taxi.”

When I hit fresh air, I took in a slow, even breath. I glanced down at myself. Walking around with no shoes on, disheveled clothes, a cat carrier, and a plastic bag full of clothes, I looked crazy. This is what my love of danger gets me. What the hell was I thinking?

My phone wasn’t even on me. I couldn’t call Chelsea and have her pick me up or Rourke. I was stuck. And I couldn’t go home.

Enzo knew where I lived and how to get in.

Glancing around, I made a decision. Rourke’s place wasn’t far. I had been there a few times to watch the game, talk shit about work, and drink too much beer. He’d give me a place to crash if I told him what was going on.

I just had to make it there. Half dressed, freezing, walking on the disgusting New York ground. All of the bad decisions I made as a teenager came flooding back to me. I thought I’d grown up, but apparently, I was wrong. I was still chasing the high, but this time the name of the drug was Enzo Vitale.

* * *

“What?”Rourke asked for the third time.

I rubbed the water out of my hair with a thick towel. Rourke had given me the couch and let me use his shower. Penelope was out roaming and pissed off. I couldn’t even look at him without him yelling at me.

“Caster!”

I jumped. “Sorry.” I plopped down on the couch. “I said I need a place to stay because of Enzo. He knows where I live. He already broke into my house. I can’t go back there.”

“And why the hell is he after you? Did you get caught or something?”

I glanced away. I wanted to stay silent while still protecting a man that I had no idea who he really was. However, I knew the rules. Partners were supposed to tell each other everything. If I kept lying to him, the case was going to bomb, and I would have no one to blame but myself.

“I’ve been living with him.”

Rourke choked on his beer. “What?”

“You’ve gotta stop saying that,” I groaned. “I went after him, things got complicated, and I moved in.”

He frowned. “So, what? You’ve got a thing for a mobster?”

“No,” I spat. “It was a small, stupid fling. That’s it.” My stomach clenched. “It was nothing.”

“You slept with a suspect,” Rourke said. “It’s not nothing. Do you know what this could do to your career?”

“I’m not stupid,” I said evenly. “And I don’t need lectures that I would be hearing if I was at my father’s house right now.”

“Your father did his job,” Rourke snapped. “He was a decorated officer. You’re fucking a mobster. Did you ever think he was right to get on your ass?”

I stared at Rourke, and he stared right back. My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. Fuck my father. Why was Rourke kissing his ass so hard?

Maybe he’s right. Everyone always says my dad is a hero. Am I the only one who resents him this much?

“Tex,” Rourke sighed. “I’m not trying to be an asshole, but you’ve got to know this is fucked up, right?” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “If anyone ever found out…”

“Don’t tell them,” I said quickly.

“If you have feelings for him, you could compromise this whole thing.” That frown was back. I was seeing it a lot more often lately. “I need to know if you’re willing to do your job. Can you put him behind bars?”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“Could you pull the trigger on him?”