Sean would the moment she stood still. She’d seen his badge at Glitter Girls. Obviously, she’d been wrong about him. He might not be an assassin trying to kill her or a bounty hunter out for a quick payday, but he’d damn sure arrest her the first chance he got.
“Stop!” Thorpe thundered.
His footsteps drew closer and closer, but she didn’t dare heed his words. “Let me go.”
“Never.”
At the iron resolve in his tone, Callie’s heart roared harder. She glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, he was closing in—fast. And now, Sean was nowhere in sight. It didn’t matter. She was nearly to the taxi . . .
With maybe ten steps to go, she landed on a rock. It gouged her heel, slicing the skin open. The sting screamed up her leg. She tried not to let the pain stop her, but when she slammed that foot down on the asphalt again, the pebble embedded deeper in her skin. The sharp ache nearly made her crumple to the ground. She slowed, hobbled, until Thorpe was nearly on top of her.
Panicked, Callie opened her mouth to scream to the taxi driver—to anyone who would listen. Sean jumped out from behind a Dumpster and clamped one arm around her waist like a vise. The other he bracketed over her mouth.
“Stop!” he panted.
His breath was warm on her face, his body like a furnace against her chilled skin, now sheened with perspiration. Her senses registered succor and safety. They wanted to melt into him. They yearned for his gentle touch, his fiery kiss . . .
Every one of which had been a lie.
Her brain screeched that she should pry herself away and run. Callie bucked wildly so she could free her mouth and tell Sean to go to hell. But he held tight. Thorpe blanketed her back, bracing his hands on her hips. She tried to stand strong and defiant, but he wrapped his suit coat around her shoulders both to warm and immobilize her. Immediately, the garment steeped her in his body heat. Their hot breaths caressed her skin. Their heady masculine scents swirled together as their taut bodies surrounded her.
“Don’t move,” Thorpe growled. “You’re in enough trouble as it is.”
She shivered at those words. Then, mere feet in front of her, the taxi dashed away, taking with it her only avenue of escape.
Finally, Sean slowly drew his hand away from her lips, staring down at her with blue eyes, piercing her despite the crappy lighting and shadows. She steeled her heart against his once beloved face. She’d always associated him with patience and gentle care. Now she knew he was a con artist with a badge, callous enough to steal her heart just to bring her in.
“Take your f**king hands off me.”
Face tightening with displeasure, Sean narrowed his eyes at her. “Looking to add to your punishment, lovely? I don’t recommend it. Your ass is already going to be sore.”
“You and your former fake accent can go eat shit. I took my collar off, so you have no business touching me.”
“That’s not precisely how it works, Callie, and you know it,” Thorpe murmured in her ear.
She turned her head to the man she’d once trusted and loved above all others. “You’re on his side now? I never imagined that you’d be gullible enough to fall for his lines, too.”
Behind her, Thorpe leaned around to look at Sean. “There won’t be any reasoning with her in the next ten minutes.”
Sean grunted. “Or in the next millennium, I imagine. This isn’t a smart place to talk.”
“Good point.”
“Stay with her. I’ll bring the car.”
She could all but feel Thorpe smile. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”
Callie’s jaw dropped. When the hell had they gotten so chummy? And why did Thorpe trust the liar?
With her head still reeling, Sean jogged off. She struggled against Thorpe’s grip, holding out hope that another taxi would zoom by. But even if she was lucky enough for that, she didn’t think she could outrun him with her foot smarting.
“Why are you helping that rat?” She’d always believed that Thorpe would be on her side, and knowing otherwise felt as if someone had pried her heart from her chest with a crowbar. “He wants to see me in prison.”
“Sean wants to protect you, pet. Just like I do. Don’t look at me like that,” he demanded. “You didn’t ask any questions before you jumped to conclusions. You just ran away. And you were dead wrong.”
“He fooled you like he fooled me.”
“If he’d wanted to arrest you, he could have done it anytime over the last seven months,” Thorpe reasoned. “He could have brought in a small army of agents and let them haul you out. I wouldn’t have been able to stop them. If you think he’s in an all-fired hurry to lock you up and throw away the key, ask yourself why he hasn’t already done it.”