Page 33 of What's Left of Us

Sheis.

Huh.

“Your family seems well-known around here,” I offer to gauge her reaction. Her shoulders go back as the grip on her purse tightens. Interesting. “And from what you said, your father has connections with people far above my pay grade.”

I think back to our conversation about the captain. That does little to prove her father knows anybody other than a fewpeople of authority in the State Police. He’s a businessman who probably mingles to build a lot of connections in the community. Doesn’t mean that extends to the mob or anybody else, like McAdams claims.

She crosses her arms, pushing her cleavage up. “Your point?”

I lift my shoulders casually, keeping my eyes above her chest no matter how tempting the mounds are. I remember how perfectly they fit in my hands—how delicious they tasted when I sucked on the pretty pink nubs that had her panting. “My point is that I didn’t know anything about you when we met, and the only thing I know about you now is how you taste and what you sound like when you’re coming.”

A subtle breath escapes her.

“And maybe I want to know more,” I conclude.

Georgia switches her weight from one foot to another, doing another scope of the bar and frowning at the people around us. She sticks out here, and she’s uncomfortable. So why did she come back? I’d like to think it had something to do with me, but I don’t let that go to my ego.

Eventually, her tongue slowly drags across her bottom lip, painted a softer tone than the red they were the first time we met. She’s not here to gain anybody’s attention, not like last time. “The only thing you need to know about the Del Rossis is that their reputation means everything to them. I’ve learned that the hard way recently.”

Her tone changes as her eyes skate around the room, going to the bar where I’m sure my friends are all staring at us.

“Did something happen?” I ask quietly, cop-mode activated as I study her for something I didn’t see before.

An empty smile curls her lips. “You could say that. My father kicked me out.”

I blink, thinking I must have misheard her. “I don’t understand. They kicked you out for what, exactly?”

“For that night,” she murmurs, rubbing her arm. “Apparently, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened when I got home.”

I didn’t even know she lived at home. Not that I’m judging. If I hadn’t found my apartment, I would still be too. “You’re an adult. You can do whatever you want.”

When our eyes meet, I see the dulled light in hers as if someone drained them. “Not when you’ve been promised to somebody else. I ruined my father’s plans for me by…taintingmyself. His words, not mine.”

It means I’m free,she’d said that night. I didn’t get it then, but I do now. “Promised to someone else. As in…You were engaged?” I ask skeptically, a heavy feeling weighing down my gut. I’m no saint, but I’ve never intentionally gone after taken women.

“Not by choice,” she replies.

I blink.

Blink again.

Is she really suggesting she had an arranged marriage set up by her father? Who does that in this day and age? “And now you’re not.”

“And now,” she responds, adjusting the purse over her shoulder and taking a deep breath. “I am homeless since my friend’s family told me I couldn’t keep staying with them, jobless because I have no experience other than knowing how to dress pretty and smile for the camera, with no connections of my own. I’m an outcast. But, yes,Officer. I’m no longer engaged since that’s all you seem to care about.”

“It’s Lincoln,” I tell her.

“You’re an officer, are you not?”

“I’m a lot of things, sweetheart,” I say easily, getting her cheeks to pinken over the pet name. “And a monster isn’t oneof them. In fact, I have a proposition for you. Consider it before deciding.”

Wariness scrunches her nose. “What proposition could you possibly have to offer me?”

“A place to stay, for one.”

Her eyes widen.

“I’ll be gone five days a week for the next few months,” I explain. The timing really couldn’t have worked out better. The academy requires I stay on campus Monday through Friday, but we can go home on weekends. “You’ll have an apartment to yourself for the most part. I’ll be back on the weekends. My place is hardly what you’re used to, I’m sure, but it’s something.”

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