wall, effortlessly lowering himself to the floor as if she weighed nothing in his arms. God, he was strong, superhuman strong, but he was wrong about the cops.
Nobody knew cops like a street rat, and in her experience, if the cops wanted in, they came in—done deal, no questions or permission asked. Hell, she’d been chased by cops into some of the sketchiest hidey-holes in the city. They were like weasels, unstoppable by any barrier known to man when they wanted something. She’d been dragged out of places by her feet and dragged out by her hair. It had always been damned discouraging, not to mention painful.
But the cops were only one of their problems.
Sitting in the shadows, cradled in his lap, she got the full up-close-and-personal lowdown on his physical condition, and it was not good. He was burning up, and his muscles were twitching under his skin, like something really bad could happen any second. Considering the way the whole damn night had gone down, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that it would—something bad, any frickin’ second.
A flashlight beam angled into the hallway from one of the bedroom windows, and she leaned in closer to him.
“I have aspirin in my purse,” she whispered in his ear. “A whole bottle, if you need it. Or do you have another pill you can take?” Or more like half a dozen or so.
He shook his head no, and a wave of frustration washed through her. What in the world was she going to do if he collapsed? She’d be damned if she’d let the cops have him, and she sure as hell wasn’t going back out into the dark without him. She didn’t want to get caught, either, not and spend the rest of her days in the slammer—not for a crime she hadn’t committed, and not for the one she had. Sure, she’d shot King and Rock, but she hadn’t been the one who’d killed them—and neither had he. She knew that down to her bones.
Another beam of light danced across the bathroom window, and she drew herself in closer to him, all but laminating herself to his chest, and the closer she got, the tighter he held on to her, but whether that was for her sake or his, she didn’t know. He felt like he was falling apart, and she wasn’t in much better shape.
God, that … that thing in the alley. It had torn King’s arm off and snapped those men’s necks, and it was still out there somewhere. A tremor of fear snaked through her, and she buried her face against his chest, wishing everything out there in the night trying to get them would just go away.
Well, hell, Con thought. He heard the police walk back around to the porch and rattle the front door. When that didn’t get them anywhere, they shined a flashlight through the window again. He reached down and gently took hold of Jane’s ankle, pulling her foot back a few inches, out of the cops’ line of sight. He’d been in tough places before, and this most definitely wasn’t one of them—except for her being there.
The flashlight beam danced partway down the hall again, and she leaned closer into him, clinging to his side, curling into his lap. He could smell her, the soft fragrance of her skin and the edge of her surrender to all the wrong things, like fear and exhaustion.
He wasn’t in much better shape, shaking like a damn leaf.
Geezus. They made a pair.
The flashlight moved away, and he stretched one of his legs out, lifting his hip a slight bit and shoving his hand into his front pocket, searching for the small plastic case he’d taken off King Banner when he’d frisked the man.
He hadn’t lied to her. He didn’t have another pill he could take, but maybe King did.
He found the case, pulled it out, and flipped open the lid, being careful not to spill the contents.
“You didn’t always look the way you do now,” he said, keeping his voice low and tipping the case this way and that into the flashing light coming through the curtains from the squad car. “The way you’re dressed. The way you wear your hair.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder, and he glanced up, catching the curious look she gave him. Yeah, he was pretty damn curious about his memories of her, too, why they were there in his mind, so clear, so undeniable.