“So what do I need to do to help her?” I ask, trying to remain calm.

“Nothing can change evidence. But I’ll speak to the District Attorney and they may cut her a deal if she cooperates with us on the case. Of course, whether Alison accepts it is a whole other story, but I’ll do what I can. But Lindsey, make sure she doesn’t run. Keep her nearby, if she runs, we can’t help her.”

He leans in, invading my personal space. He’s calm, focusing completely on me, compelling me to believe everything he is saying. His words hold sincerity and kindness. I don’t know what either Alison or I did to deserve them. Just the idea that this man holds the key to the cell my baby sister could spend years suffering in, sends my heart rate up to warp speed. Why does he give a damn about her future? Girls like her are a dime a dozen around these parts and he probably deals with them daily. A wall of confusion rises, blocking his attempts at consoling me. His motives for helping us are questions on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back while his body answers my questions for him. His eyes shine. There is no maliciousness behind them. Not a hint of deceit, no telltale signs of a lie. He’s as real as it gets, truth in its purest form.

A decent man is hard to find. Women search high and low, yet some endure a lifetime without finding even one. They’re so rare I probably wouldn’t stop to notice if I physically ran into one. But this guy, underneath his intense cop exterior, might just be one of the good ones. Either that, or he’s the best damn liar I’ve ever encountered.

“I’ll keep her close, Detective. What kind of deal are we talking?” I bend forward, closer to Mason. Bordering on too close to remain professional, but I intended on listening carefully to his answer, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Well depending on how she helps us, less jail time is a big possibility. Maybe even immunity if she agrees to be a material witness in the case. That won’t make the drug charges disappear but it will mean the prostitution charges will likely be dropped.” He pushes back from the chair at his desk, walking by me to the door of his office. That must be my cue to leave.

He glances around uneasily, looking anywhere but into my eyes. My brows knit in confusion at his hot and cold attitude. “I won’t know specific details until I’ve spoken with the DA and your sister, but hopefully we can work on the best possible outcome for Alison. And just to let you know, rehab will be a part of it. It will pretty much be non-negotiable considering her previous drug offenses.”

“Thank you,” I say, sticking out my right hand for him to shake. He’s back to being uncomfortable. Every time I get close, he pulls away. “I know you don’t have to be telling me any of this and I’m well aware that Ali needs rehab. I appreciate your help.”

Lie. I don’t appreciate his help. His help makes me uneasy. It forms a rock of concern I can’t yet crack until I know why he wants to help. 

He nods firmly in response as he shakes my hand and, for a second, I let his kindness restore some positivity in me.

***

I pace back and forth. How much longer?

Five minutes turns into ten, ten turns into twenty and finally, the pressure alleviates before I burst as Alison emerges from the interrogation room. She’s a blotchy faced, sobbing mess. It obviously didn’t go so well, which does nothing to calm me.

I envelope Ali in my arms, like I’ve done so many other times, and allow her tears to fall freely at the same time, hoping and wishing this girl would learn from her mistakes instead of heading down the same path as our mother. I will never understand how she could turn to drugs after the childhood nightmares we endured. I guess she was too young to retain the memories –the hurt.

Closing my eyes, I squeeze her a little tighter and for a few extra seconds. This world we’re mixed up in will be the reason she falls. I just hope she doesn’t fall so far I’m unable to catch her.

The streets of New York are a dangerous place to be, even without the Marino family causing chaos. Notoriously known for running drugs and trafficking women, they’re feared by those close to them, and by those who don’t even know them. These men are Mafia royalty, controlling nearly everybody and everything coming in and out of New York. Alison was another pawn in their lethal chess game. I am the motherfucking queen. If she goes down, they go down. I’m not nineteen anymore. I am no longer weak. I’m twenty-nine and one of the most feared women in the underbelly of this city. My name is whispered on lips on Wall Street as often as it’s discussed across a game of poker with Italian Mafia. I learned from the best. Now I am the best. They call me Ghost because I hide in the shadows. No one ever sees me coming.

Pulling back from Ali, I give her a moment to wipe her eyes and pull herself together. While the hustle and bustle of the precinct swoops into the small space, I nearly miss Mason’s quick glance down to my chest where I’m unconsciously gripping the dog tags hanging around my neck, but the frown that follows is impossible not to notice. I remove my coat, the heat of his stare warming me on the inside in a way I despise but long for all at the same time. I tuck the military tags safely under my top, but Mason’s expression stays the same. I guess when you’re a woman my age wearing a man’s dog tags close to your heart most would assume they are your lover’s. Mine are my father’s, but I guess he doesn’t know that.

“Well, thank you again for saving me earlier as well, and Mason…” I use his first name. “Those tags aren’t what you’re thinking.” Without so much as waiting for a response, I link my arm through Ali’s and guide her out of the crowded precinct. What reaction I was hoping for by assuring him I’m not already spoken for, I’m not certain. What possessed me to even tell him, I have no idea. I knew I would never pursue him, but a small selfish part of me was still seeking reassurance that if I wanted him, I could have him.

“Good to know!” Echoes from behind me and I tuck my head down as I walk, doing my best to hide the smile on my face creeping up into full view.

I’d like to say I don’t turn back around. With any other man, I wouldn’t. I’d play him to perfection and have him eating out of the palm of my hand. But all my common sense left me for dead right around the time he made my body heat up with his very first touch. He’s pleasure and excitement wrapped in muscle and tied together by danger.

With only the comfort of my bed in mind, I glance back for one last look at the man who saved my life today. If we’re both lucky, we’ll never see each other again. Despite the aura of roughness protecting him like a shield, the undeniable truth of his integrity shines through, and that would be his undoing, his weakness.

CHAPTER FIVE

Lindsey

In the beginning, guilt consumed me.

A few years later, I could swallow past it.

Now, I’ve become so numb, I can’t tell you what it feels like.

Our taxi pulls into the curb and the five-story exposed brick building greets me with a sense of tranquility. My home, my safe haven, it’s the one place I’m free to sit alone and just be me. I barely take another step before I’m swallowed into two strong arms, squeezing me to the point my air supply is cut short. Cologne sweeps up my nose and I recognize the scent instantly.

“Olly, I can’t breathe. Let me go.”

Breathing easy again, I brace for the endless questions to come.

With wide eyes, he puts out his hands resting them on my shoulders while he assesses my physical trauma. “What the fuck happened to you?” His eyebrows draw together as he checks out Alison’s split lip. “Why do you both look like shit? You’re a hot mess. Where have you been? I was so worried. I’ve been trying to call you all morning and by lunch time, I was ready to send out a search party.” Pain lurks behind his deep brown eyes and I regret not calling him earlier.