“Do I look like an idiot who likes to throw away money? No deal.”

  “Glad you clarified what kind of idiot,” he teased.

  She shoved his shoulder, laughing. “Go away.”

  He slung his are around my shoulders. “Hey, you crashed on me and Sparrow. We were finding her bowling ball.”

  “Get your hands off my girl,” Hudson growled as he passed with our food. “Or it won’t be your bowling balls you’re looking for.”

  “So, Sparrow, being as you’re Hudson’s girl, you have a standing invite to girls’ night if you want to come. We’d love to have you,” Harley said.

  Marlowe nodded. “We always have so much food—we get The Feedery to cater it. They have the best desserts. On month that’s all we did—about ten different desserts.”

  “Sugar coma,” her sister enjoined. “You’ve gotta come, Sparrow. Please…” She leaned in. “And not just because you’re with Hudson. Promise.”

  That sounded wonderful, and they seemed to genuinely want me to come hang out with them. Which seemed weird to me since I had always had a hard time making friends. Was that just on me? Had I put up more walls than I thought?

  I nodded.

  I’d like that, I wrote, knowing they didn’t know signing.

  “Wait. You get all those desserts?” Jordie asked. “I want to come.”

  “No,” the twins said in unison.

  Giving up on finding a bowling ball, not even trying a single one, I pointed over at Hudson to let them know I was going over to him then gave them a small wave as Jordie started arguing for inclusion into the dessert-a-palooza. As soon as I sat, Hudson grabbed the edge of my chair and dragged me closer so the sides of the seats were against each other.

  Leaning over, he brushed his lips over mine. “I missed you.”

  I grinned, giving him a small roll of my eyes.

  Do you guys actually bowl? I wrote out in my notebook before picking up a tot and popping it into my mouth. I was the best tasting potato I’d ever had. Apparently, I was more hungry than I’d imagined.

  “Eventually. Mostly we just hang out for a couple hours. The owners rent us the lanes by the hour, not the game, because with the way we bowl, it wouldn’t be worth their time. It’s fair enough. We also eat and drink enough to help cover the time.”

  Might be why you suck at bowling.

  He snorted. “Maybe. You know what I don’t suck at?”

  “What?” I mouthed.

  He leaned in, catching my chin with his fingers and kissed me again. We never did bowl. Mostly, we hung out with his family, watched them—the twins were really good—and kissed. I spent most of the time sitting on Hudson’s lap and half that with his lips some place on me. He was right. It didn’t suck at all.

  Ten

  Sparrow

  Hudson and I stumbled into the house, kissing and groping at each other and barely taking the time to reset the alarm. Thankfully, he had the wherewithal about him to take care of it before he pushed me up against the wall, kissing me roughly while I grabbed onto his hair and returned it with equal vigor. He grasped my ass while I wrapped my legs around him, grinding against his erection that pressed against the front of his jeans.

  “God, I want you,” he growled against my lips. “Tonight was torture. All I could think of was getting back here, kissing you, wondering if you’d let me make love to you.”

  “Yes,” I gasped, the word only a breath with no sound, but Hudson understood me. I’d barely agreed before we were moving. He carried me through the house, stumbled up the steps. We bumped into the wall but it did nothing to dampen the lust burning between us.

  We dropped onto the bed, tearing at each other’s clothes. I didn’t even care as I heard fabric protest at the urgency. I just wanted us skin-to-skin.

  My bra went flying. I heard it hit the wall but Hudson’s mouth covering my hardened nipple stole away all thought. A groan rolled up my throat as he nipped and sucked, drawing hard and sending shards of pleasure tearing through me.

  “God, you taste good. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

  I couldn’t believe it either. My whole life had been shit and one uncomfortable moment at a restaurant had turned it all around. My hands skimmed over his bare feeling the hard lines I’d admired by not touched. Oh, I’d wanted to run my fingers along the slopes and valleys of his pecs and abs and hips. He was a work of art.

  He worked his way to my other breast and sucked hard. A loud cry broke from me as I clawed his shoulder, riding the wave of fire that radiated from his mouth to my core then out to me limbs.

  Drawing back, he stared down at me in stunned shock them kissed me fiercely. It was as if he’d broken through my fortress and a whimper whispered between us, forming a web around us where I was safe with him.

  “Hudson,” I gasped as he kissed along my sternum to my belly. His thick fingers tugged down my jeans and panties, laying me bare to him. Unfettered, my cries filled the room when his mouth covered me. His fingers and tongued explored, driving me toward a release like none I’d ever had, the only I’d ever experienced with another person and not my own hand.

  My eyes closed as I sank into the pleasure and let it wash over me.

  “Christ, I love the way you shake under my hands and sing out for me, Songbird. I’m gonna come on the blankets if I’m not buried in you soon.”

  “Yes. I need… Hud…son,” I gasped out.

  He rose over me. “I need you, too. So much.”

  His lips covered mine, sharing the musky sweet flavor of me while he devoured my mouth. I groaned, sucking in his tongue while his cock, pressed to me. The broad head stretched me, forcing open walls that had been empty for so long.

  “Say my name,” he demanded against my ear. “Say my name while I claim you…and keep you.”

  “Hudson,” I cried, letting the dam flood open. “Hudson!”

  “Fucking perfect. Perfect.”

  It was. Our hips moved in unison, creating a counterpoint that drove me to unscaled heights. Pleasure poured from between my lips, while his dark hungry eyes drank me in, a faint satyr-like smile curling his mouth. His cock drove over my sensitive parts over and over, hitting deep then leaving me bereft until he thrust inside in a long smooth stroke again. Suddenly, I understand what it meant to be remade by sex. He’d destroyed part of me, and we rebuilt something new. Together.

  We came together, bliss shimmering through me while his heat filled my deepest place.

  “Sparrow,” he murmured as we landed back into reality, a tangled of blankets around us. “Sparrow. My songbird.”

  My fingers traced over his face.

  “Tell me I’ll still hear your voice. That it hasn’t gone again.”

  I stared at him. My lips moving. He heaved a shuddering breath and buried his face in my neck. “I’ll make love to you a million times. Crash through every block you have.”

  “Hu…Hud…son. I… Perfect.”

  “You are perfect.”

  I grimaced and shook my head. “We. Us. It…was perfect.”

  Why was it so hard to speak, to get out words with him? When I was alone, I could speak fine. I thought so anyway. I hadn’t much in a long time. Not other than a few words at a time. If that.

  “You like my magic cock.”

  Oh my God…

  I shoved at his shoulder. “Dick.”

  “Okay…you like my magic dick. Look what it did.”

  “Did…not.”

  His lips covered mine again, and I could feel him getting hard inside me again. My walls flexed, clutching at that solid, thick length.

  “Need me to show you some more?” he gasped. He was already moving, already pushing us toward another cliff and sweet oblivion.

  “Yes,” I breathed. “Show me.”

  Eleven

  Hudson

  “Fuck.”

  I stood in front of the house with Sparrow at my side, staring at my vehicles. We’d been heading into the Brewery, but it looked like we weren’t going anywhere. All the tires on both my vehicles were flat. The ones I could see were clearly slashed.

  “Inside,” I said, backing her into the foyer, locking the door and reengaging the alarm.

  “He found me,” she rasped brokenly. It was a struggled for each word but since her walls had gone down during sex, she’d been fighting not to let them hide again.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “I don’t…know. It…has to be…the same person who…trashed my…apartment.”

  I couldn’t disagree. This was too much of a coincidence.

  “I’m…sorry.”

  “Baby, it’s not your fault. I’m so fucking angry someone is terrorizing you like this.” I pulled out my phone to call the cops.

  Her hand curled on my forearm.

  “Think…is.” She held up a finger a grabbed her notebook.

  “Sparrow,” I protested. God, I couldn’t stand it if her walls came up again.

  “Promise,” she whispered. “No more…quiet.” She held up the notebook. “Easier.”

  My heart in my throat, I watched as she scratched her pen across the paper.

  Murderer, she wrote.

  “How would they find you after ten years? Why now?”

  I contacted the police in Chicago about the case. Told them I’d like to sit with a sketch artist and give them a description of the guy. Back when it happened, I was too freaked out and hysterical to give them anything. I couldn’t tell them what happened. Couldn’t tell them what the man looked like. But I can. Now. I thought after all this time I could give them information. No one got back to me. I thought they deleted it, thought I was a crackpot, but someone must have seen it.

  “You know who it is?”

  She shook her head. “I think…worked with my dad.”

  “You dad? What did your father do?”

  “He…was…an accountant.”

  “An accountant? For who?”

  “I…I actually don’t know.” She took a breath, her voice growing stronger. “My mom didn’t like his boss. She called him a crook. Do you think…maybe…he literally was?”

  I huffed a sharp, cynical laugh. “Who knows? But whoever the fuck he is, he doesn’t want to be ID’d. Shit, Sparrow…”

  Her eyes glistened, her eyes wrapping around her waist. “I’m sorry. Hudson, I…”

  I cut her off. “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do this. We’ll find out who the fucker is. Your parents deserve to have their murderer locked up. You deserve to live without fear. You deserve safety.”

  “You do, too, but…look what happened when I tried to do the right thing.”

  My head shook while she spoke. “ Yeah, it happened, but now, there’s a lead. We’ll talk to the cops where you live. We’ll talk to the cops here. They can contact Chicago.”

  I pulled her into his lap. “It’s gonna be okay. Let me make the phone calls and get the right ball rolling.”

  * * *

  I wasn’t sure it was actual protocol, but one of the officers who answered the call to my house knew my parents. After checking the area, and pointing out where someone had obviously inspected the perimeter of my house, looking for a place to bypass my security, Officer Quaid took our report. His brows pinched when I mentioned the break-in at Sparrow’s old apartment—old, because I damned well wasn’t letting her go back. His back went stock-straight and he reared back slightly, his head tilting with interest when I mentioned Chicago and Sparrow’s parents and how she’d recently contacted them about the case.

  “Can you go take photos of the damage to the vehicles and the evidence around the house?” he told the younger officer with him. He’d waited until the guy left then looked at me.

  “I have a friend I’m going to call. When all is said and done, this will be his jurisdiction anyway.

  Forty-five minutes later, Sparrow and I were meeting with a local fed at the brewery, thanks to Jordie picking us up.

  “Fuck,” he said at the sight of my car and truck, echoing my earlier assessment. On the way, I’d gotten the call from Officer Quaid, telling me to expect the agent. Now, Agent Truman Modine, dressed in jeans, dress shirt ad and blazer sat across from us with several files and an untouched Coke. Somehow, his office has taken over this whole case. They know more about Sparrow and her parents than I could have imagined in that short amount of time, which made me wonder if the feds had already been looking into matters.

  Modine slid a black-and-white photo across the table. “Evan Maxwell. Does he look familiar.”

  Her hand clenched around mine. With choppy breaths, her head shook—her whole body shook. Even her fingers felt as if they’d turned to ice.

  “That’s him. I’m sure…it’s him. I’ll never, ever…forget. My mom only had…only a second…to shove me into that storage cabinet when…he was breaking in. I…I don’t even…know why it was empty.”

  Modine’s fingers tapped on the tabletop as she gave the halting account and my eyes narrowed on him. His brow raised when he caught my glare. I shifted my glance to his fingers then back to his stare. “She wasn’t even talking yesterday. You have no idea how hard this is. I’m shocked she can even talk to you.”

  “You…” she looked at me and blew out a harsh breath. “Keep me…safe.”

  “Always,” I promised.

  “Go on,” the agent urged, his voice softer than before.

  Her voice wavering, her hands still clenched around mine, Sparrow described Maxwell breaking in. He’d thrown a knife at her father, taking him down. Then he’d grabbed her mother, demanding to know where Sparrow was, shaking her so hard her head was snapping back and forth. He’d thrown her to the side and she’d crashed onto a console table. Her father had tried to fight, but wouldn’t give up Sparrow’s whereabouts, either. Maxwell had stabbed him then in a rage, stabbed her mother.

  “I didn’t move for hours. Even after it was dark. Then I called 911.”

  Modine rubbed the center of his forehead. Then a moment later, he was one-hundred percent cold business again.

  “Evan Maxwell is a suspected trafficker but we’ve never been able to pin him. Not with trafficking. Not with murder, even though there are others around him who’ve met the same fate as Mr. and Mrs. Rose. He doesn’t leave witnesses.” He met Sparrow’s eyes. “And you’re not only a lost commodity to him, but you’re a witness. He wants you silenced.”

  “Killed?” she whispered.

  “Likely.”

  “So why didn’t he grab her ten years ago when she called the cops—clearly he has an inside guy or he wouldn’t know that Sparrow called him.”

  Modine stared me down, his lips a firm line. “Not necessarily. While art can mimic reality, there aren’t dirty cops working for the mob in every police station. He could have a hack into their system—which need to be looked into. Or…you might be right. There might be an inside guy. But that night, the guy who pulled Maxwell over and hauled him into holding for going thirty over the speed limit in a residential area wasn’t someone in the know.” The agent looked over at Sparrow. “A traffic infraction saved your life. And maybe some purposely lost paperwork. I’ve been over all the files. There’s no record of you after the 911 call was made.”

  She stared at him, her lips slightly parted. We glanced at each other.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “Yeah, me either,” he said. “And now, he’s here.”

  “He slashed up her apartment. The guy’s weapon of choice is still a blade.”

  Modine nodded. “The Rose’s aren’t the first people or last people connected to him who were assaulted that way. We just haven’t been able to pin him.”

  “Can you put Sparrow under protection…or surveillance, in case he comes after her again? Unfortunately, no.” He closed his folders and handed over his card. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “He’ll be in touch?” I raged after he walked out. I surged to my feet. “What the fuck? Why did we even talk to him?”

  Sparrow stood to face me. “To catch the murder. I…I should go back to my apartment. It’s not safe for you to be around me.”

  “The fuck you will! Fuck safe.”

  “You know I’m a black belt—”

  “No actually, I didn’t. That doesn’t change my mind.” I crossed my arms, staring her down. “Do you think I could breathe, knowing you were there with a possible target on you for God knows what, not knowing what might be happening to you? If you go, I will follow you with all the guys and then we’d all be in danger.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Hudson—”

  “I love you.”

  “What?”

  “I. Love. You. You’re not going anywhere. We’ll do whatever we have to do to keep you safe. Fuck. I’ll take you out of the city. The state. Even the country. We’ll go away—”

  “Hudson. You can’t give up you’re whole life—”

  “Do you love me?”

  Did I… Love him? It was so soon. But I knew. Like he knew.

  “Yes. Yes, I love you. Then we’ll go away. No one’s going to touch you while we’re here. Then tonight we’ll leave and we’ll go someplace. Away from here.”

  She shook her head and I saw her doubts, but I’d make her believe. Somehow.

  Twelve

  Sparrow

  Nerves rattled through me all night while Hudson worked. More than once, I considered sneaking out of the office in the backroom here Hudson stashed me while he worked. I knew he’d follow me. Possibly right into danger. I was constantly afraid this phantom from my past, Evan Maxwell would rush into the brewery, guns blazing and kill everyone in his path, in order to get to me.

  But guns weren’t really his thing, were they?

  I was a wreak by the time Jordie drove us to Hudson’s place.

  “You sure this is okay?” Jordie asked as we pulled up.

  Both the vehicles were gone, taken to the mechanic to have the tires replaced and to be looked over for any problems.

  “Yeah, the security system kept him out yesterday. It’ll do that today, too.”

 

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