TIMOFEY
"Are you okay?"
The question is out of my lips before I can even consider how fucking ridiculous it is.I'mthe one who put her in here.I'mthe one who did this to her. So if she's not okay, it's my doing, and I shouldn't give a shit.
But I do care. Way more than I'm willing to admit.
That's the most ridiculous part of all.
Piper pulls away from me and swipes at her eyes. Her fingers are trembling. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. I'm—everything is fine. Can we go now?"
She looks to the cracked-open door like she expects it to slam closed any second. Like she isn't even sure it's real.
I check my watch. "The cameras are only off for two more minutes. Let's go."
I turn to the door and Piper grabs onto my sleeve.
I falter for just a fraction of a moment, glancing down where her hands wrap around my bicep. Then I carry on, as if it's perfectly normal for this woman to be cuddling me after I put her in jail.
We walk out of the room and into the fluorescent light of the narrow hallway.
"This place is suffocating," she whispers behind me. "Have they heard of windows?"
"I don't think the architect was worried about the prisoners' access to natural light."
She grumbles something I can't hear under her breath. When we walk through the back door into the parking lot, she inhales deeply.
"I'm guessing you've never done time before."
She closes her eyes and takes another deep breath. "Never. You?"
The comment was a joke. I have no interest in getting to know Piper Quinn more than I already do. But I suppose this is preferable to her cowering and shivering on the concrete floor.
"A night in jail here or there. Nothing serious. Sergey made sure of that."
She looks over at me. In the sunlight, her green eyes are ringed with gold. "By bribing the officers or by setting you on the right path?"
Piper's hand is still fisted in my shirt sleeve as I walk us back around the perimeter of the building. "You tell me."
"That's what I figured." She sighs. "You all have to be smart people to run an operation like this. You could use your powers for good, you know."
"I could also donate all of my possessions to charity and become one with nature."
"I'm guessing that's a no, then?"
"Bingo. I knew you weren't as stupid as you seemed."
She rolls her eyes, but she stays close to me. I have to admit, I don't mind the warmth of her body next to mine.
Maybe Akim is right. It's been too long since I've fucked. That's all this is. Pheromones. Chemicals. The animal part of my brain is going haywire.
We turn out of the alley onto the sidewalk. Piper squeezes my forearm once more, then lets go at last. I swear she whimpers almost imperceptibly as she does. Like she's losing something in the process.
"Thank you," she murmurs.
"For having you arrested?"
"No," she huffs. "For…for coming to get me. You don't deserve a thank you since you're the one who put me in there. But you also could have left me a lot longer. I don't know if I would have… Well, I'm glad you came when you did. So, yeah. Thanks."
I don't respond. Mostly because I didn't go and release Piper for her own sake; I did it for mine.
And that's a thousand times worse.
The thought of her in there with Rooney, with the rest of those corrupt fucks in blue, with any of the slimy bastards they have cuffed up today… I didn't like that shit at all.
Akim would say it's because I want to fuck her hard in the yard or some other Seussian bullshit. But it's more than that. The desire I feel to protect her runs deeper than that.
Maybe it does all go back to Emily.
All I know is, nothing is going to happen to Piper Quinn while she's under my care.
After that, though, she's on her own.
"Wait." Her hand finds my arm again and she jerks me to a stop. I'm surprised at how willingly I let her do it. "How did you get here? What drove you?Did You drive?"
"I didn't walk forty miles in two hours, if that's what you're asking."
Her chest rises and falls as her breathing picks up. "Timofey, I can't."
"A second ago, you were ready to erect a statue to me for getting you out of there. Now, you want to stay?"
Her eyes narrow, but her frowny mask does nothing to hide her obvious panic. "I don't want to stay, but I can't get in your car. I-I'm claustrophobic."
"What?"
"Claustrophobic," she spits, saying the word like it's shameful. "I don't like being in small spaces."
"I know what claustrophobic means."
"Okay, good. So you know that being handcuffed, shoved into the back of a police cruiser with a partition, and then chucked into a jail cell was the trigger of all triggers for me." She licks her lips and looks up at me under long lashes. "I'm barely standing upright here. I'm exhausted and on edge. I can't get back in the car. I just can't. I won't. I—"
"Don't have to," I finished for her.
She blinks. "Huh?"
"It would be pretty hard for you to get in my car since I don't have one."
"But you said—"
I point at the machine in front of us and watch as Piper's expression shifts from confusion to elation.
"Of course you ride a motorcycle." She laughs to herself, part maniacal, part scoffing, mostly relieved. "All the bad boys do."
"You wounded me, Ms. Quinn. I'm no cliché."
"Tell me something I don't know." She runs her finger down the shiny black paint of the engine, and I swear I can feel it like she's touching my body instead. "There's no one in the world like Timofey Viktorov."
"I'll choose to take that as a compliment."
I hand her a helmet and climb on.
"I'm getting on the back?" she asks, lingering on the sidewalk.
"It doesn't work as well when you try sitting on the handlebars," I drawl. "So it's either the back, or you're walking."
Piper hesitates for one more moment. I watch her—long, lithe, petite, fucking beautiful. Then she makes her decision.
She throws her leg over easily enough. For a second, she tries to keep space between our bodies. She sits as far back on the seat as she can.
As soon as I start the engine and pull away from the curb, that goes out the window.
Piper yelps and wraps both arms around me. I feel the warmth of her thighs wrapped around my lower back. I feel her breasts squeezed against my back. Every inch of her is held against me, soft and firm in all the right places.
And one thought stands above all the rest of the tumult in my head.
We're both in a lot of fucking trouble.