Page 48 of Gunner

Gunner chuckled. “How do we do this? There’s a doorman and shit. Do I knock him out?”

He looked dead serious.

“No, you psycho. I got the power of the badge, but you have to ditch the cut.”

“Fuck no.” Gunner held on to his cut like he was afraid I would force it off him.

“Then you stay out here. No way that doorman is going to believe I’m a cop if you walk in there looking like a gang member. Everything else about you says that already. No need to advertise it.”

“This the one time I’m taking my cut off for you.” He complied way quicker than I’d thought he would, removing the piece of clothing and stuffing it into his saddlebag. “Better?”

I nodded. He was still wearing my shirt I’d given him earlier. It hung loose on his body. Overall, he looked a mess—a hot mess of long black hair falling from its bun and those uncanny dark eyes staring into my soul, seeing things I didn’t want him to.

“Which apartment is he in?” I asked.

“Thirty-two.”

I led the way to the entrance. “Let me do the talking, and for god’s sake, no matter what happens, do not hit him over the head with a club.”

“If that’s your sense of humor, no wonder it’s been hiding.”

We walked through a revolving door into a lobby area with gleaming marble floors and velvet-upholstered sofas in deep, rich hues. The fragrance of fresh flowers from an elegant arrangement on a sleek glass table at the center drifted toward us.

Behind a polished mahogany desk sat the doorman, decked out in a pristine uniform. He looked up from his newspaper and got to his feet.

“Good evening, gentlemen. How may I assist you?”

I flashed my police badge quickly, hoping to get past the formalities. “I’m Acting Chief of Police Witter. We’re here to visit apartment thirty. It’s a matter of official police business.”

“Do you mind me taking a closer look at your badge?”

“Not at all.” I held the badge under his nose until he nodded. “Everything good?”

“Yes, you can take the elevator or the stairs. It’s on the third floor. Do you want me to announce your arrival?”

“No, thank you.”

“Very well.” The doorman returned to his desk, and a soft chime indicated the front doors had been unlocked.

I headed for the elevator, Gunner at my heels, practically breathing down my neck. The elevator doors opened, and we entered. I nodded at the camera mounted in the ceiling so Gunner would watch his words.

“Fancy place,” he said, angling his body to shield himself from the camera. Unfortunately, it meant we were face-to-face.

“Yeah.”

The air thickened, charged with an electricity that hummed between us. Gunner’s proximity was overwhelming, his presence seeming to take up all the space in the elevator, though I was bigger. The subtle scent of him mingled with the tobacco clinging to his clothes, giving off an intoxicating aroma. Our eyesmet, and a flicker of something undefined but potent passed between us.

For a moment, it was as if we were in an entirely different world—just the two of us. A world where there was no Gunner and no Ben, just the two men who’d been joined earlier today. My heart pounded, and I found it increasingly difficult to focus on the reason we were there. Gunner seemed to feel it too; his dark gaze lingered on me a second too long.

The soft chime of the elevator reaching the third floor broke the silence. The doors slid open, and I stepped out first, slamming the door shut on my wayward feelings. Gunner would always be Gunner, but more importantly, I had to stay Ben—a lawman who did his job by the books.

“Why’d you say we were going to room thirty?” Gunner asked.

“Just in case he still calls to announce our arrival.”

“Ah. Smart move.”

I swallowed my smile. Gunner’s moods swung back and forth like a pendulum. I couldn’t take anything he said to heart. The man had confessed he wanted to bash my head in at times.

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