“Tone it down,” Jake said softly, clapping me on the back and giving me an easy smile. “Look at me, smile. Do it now.”

I did. The smile felt forced.

“That’s it. Whatever it is...”

The smile froze on my face as I caught sight of someone familiar moving toward us.

If the sky had opened and lightning had cracked down on me out of the blue, it would’ve been less of a kick in the ass.

The man striding my way was a blast from the past, and not a happy one. Not that I had many happy ones, but he was one of the worst.

He’d been younger – barely out of high school – the first time I’d seen him, but not the last time. The last time I’d seen him had been just over a year ago, when he’d shown up for my parole hearing, and thrown every bit of his considerable weight as an upcoming young detective with Louisville Metro Police Department behind keeping me incarcerated. The parole board had decided to give me a chance and he hadn’t been pleased.

Every day since I’d gotten out, I’d expected to see him riding my ass and just looking for a chance to throw me back behind bars, but it hadn’t happened.

Judging by the look on his face now, he was about to make up for that.

As Detective Dale Mitchell came to a stop in front of me, I pulled my hands out of my pockets. Ex-cons don’t do well having their hands in their pockets when there’s a cop around, trust me. Hands where I can see them, and all that jazz.

“Well, well, well,” Dale said, an ugly smile twisting his face. “I thought that face on the video clip flying across the web today looked damn familiar, but I told myself you had a doppelgänger or something.” He paused, and then added with a sneer, “Doppelgänger means double.”

“I know what it means, Detective.”

He rubbed a hand over the neat growth of his beard. When I’d first seen him, across a courtroom as he stared at me with hatred, he’d been a skinny kid with a face full of pimples and tears in his eyes. The only thing that hadn’t changed in the passing years was the hate. I couldn’t exactly say I blamed him.

I killed his older brother.

His gaze skipped away from me to linger on Jake and then moved to Ryan and Carly. “Why don’t we step outside, Cantrell?”

I gave him a terse nod. I wasn’t about to make a scene here.

Jake moved in front of me. “Care to explain why?” He glanced at me and made an accurate guess. “Detective?”

“It’s okay, Jake,” I said, even as something I couldn’t immediately identify rushed through me. Shit. It was gratitude. Jake knew what I’d done. I’d told him. And he knew the guy in front of me was a cop. But he didn’t care. He was taking my side.

“No, Bobby.” Jake smiled easily, never once taking his eyes away from Dale. “You see, you’re not doing anything wrong. You’re here doing the job you were hired to do. You haven’t caused any problems.” He paused, continuing to stare at Dale. “So, again...why do you need Bobby to step outside?”

In response, Mitchell pulled out his badge and flashed it. “Because an officer of the law is requesting it, and this man is a convicted felon.”

He smiled smugly as he said it, as if waiting for a reaction to his announcement. But all Jake did was give him a steady look.

“Yes. He’s a convict. An ex-con, I believe is the term he used when he told us about his past. As in, he served his time. But...” He nodded and gestured toward Ryan. “I do believe he’s allowed legal counsel, correct? My associate, Mr. Harmon, is an attorney. He is only licensed to practice in New York and California, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind at least assisting in this matter.”

I swung my head around to stare at Ryan. He gave me a faint smile. He was a lawyer? No wonder he and Jake had realized what I was.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“You’re supposed to be taking care of Carly,” I said tightly. Under clothes that still felt as unfamiliar as somebody else’s skin, my shoulders were tight, and I was painfully aware that people were staring at us. I just wanted to get out of there, even if it was with Dale.

“Is there a problem, Dale?”

And now my humiliation was complete. Mrs. G had rejoined us. Now, she looked and sounded very much like the Grande Dame of something, her tone regal, her head inclined imperiously, her gaze frosty.

Dale jerked his head at me. “You aware you’ve got a convicted in attendance here?”

Mrs. G’s gaze flitted toward me. There was surprise in her gaze, but she hid it quickly and she waved a hand. “I see no need to do a full background check on those my guests bring. Besides he’s one of Carly’s security people, which means he passed inspection with her people. That’s more than enough for me.”

“He’s a killer.” There was a vein throbbing in Dale’s forehead now.

Blood roared so loudly in my ears, it was amazing I could hear him. Or anybody else for that matter. But I did. People were starting to murmur, and I saw more than a few of them carefully edging away from me.

But Carly stepped toward me.

With bold, deliberate steps, she moved to my side and hooked her arm through mine. “I thought the whole point of the prison system was reform, Detective,” she said, her voice dripping sweet. “Or are you of a mind that once a man commits a crime, we just lock him up and throw away the key, let him rot there?”

Carly’s simple, unequivocal defense of me was something new. A knot would have formed in my throat if I’d let it.

Dale took a step forward and I automatically nudged Carly behind me, putting myself between her and him.

“Leave her out of this,” I said softly. “You’ve got a grudge against me, and you’ve a right to it, but don’t drag her into it.”

His lip curled and there were words in his eyes, on his face. He didn’t speak them, but he didn’t need to.

I could hear them well enough. I’d been telling myself a version of them from the first moment I realized I wanted to be near Carly.

You dragged her into it just by being here with her.

He left without saying another word.

Chapter 6

I argued with them the whole damn way to the hotel. Up the elevator to the F. Scott Fitzgerald suite, and for a good forty-five minutes after we got into the room.

When Carly pushed a tumbler of bourbon into my hand, I just thumped it down on the closest table and ignored it. She rolled her eyes at me and threw herself down on the couch. That successfully distracted me for maybe thirty seconds, because that short skirt of hers wasn’t designed for her to be sitting like that. So much naked thigh was bared, it just about drove me crazy. She smiled, a hot, sexy gleam that made my dick stand up and beg for attention.

Fuck.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

“You can find somebody better than me for this job. Hell, I don’t think you even need me. Broken arm or not, Jake seems to have everything under control and you said he’s got a replacement coming in soon.” I felt like an idiot staring at the bookshelf in front of me, but if I turned around, I’d go back to staring at her, and I didn’t think that was a good idea.

“You already agreed,” she reminded me. She’d said that a good five times.

Or was it eight? Ten?

I lost track at some point.

“Yeah, well, I’ll just un-agree. You don’t need Dale Mitchell giving you grief.” Neither did I. He could make my life a nightmare, and unlike Carly, I would be stuck here when this gig was up. She was my first concern, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking of me at all.

“Dale isn’t an issue.”

I turned around just in time to see her leaning forward to unzip her boots. Before my eyes could laser in on her hands as she performed that task, I shifted my attention to Ryan and glared. “Are you really a fucking lawyer?”