strange.
Erin looked down at her chest, wondering if the warm fuzzy she’d just encountered in her midsection was visible to the naked eye. She might hate the idea of being strong-armed into being here, of having her past held over her head and used as a bargaining chip to gain her obedience. But unless you counted the thousand-woman team whose uniforms consisted of orange jumpsuits, she’d never been part of a group before. Yeah, they had a jerk-wad leader who had already felt the need to assert his male superiority over them, but everyone at this table had their rear ends to the fire. They were in this rowboat headed down shit creek together and something about that felt vaguely comforting. As comfortable as a convict could reasonably get knowing her second-class citizen status made her dispensable, and therefore she would be placed in dangerous situations.
But hey—at least it was for the good of a team. With an adorable old man mascot.
She sneaked a glance at Connor. He was still looking at her. She wished like hell he’d stop. Also, if he could keep going that would be great, too. It felt like being touched without all the anxiety that came along with it. His mouth had felt so good—
“Nice of you to show up,” Derek said, giving the two latest arrivals the stink eye. “Now sit down. We’ve got work to do.”
Erin stared in fascination at the new couple standing in the doorway. And despite their obvious differences, there was absolutely zero doubt that they were a couple. They were tethered in some invisible way she’d never witnessed before. The man was a fighter. Every taut line of his body made that unquestionable. Not only did he look ready to take on any threat to the girl standing beside him, he was dying for someone to try so they could lose. Where Connor was sturdy and unmovable, this dark blond in his worn leather jacket never stopped moving. His fingers flexed, his eyes scanned, his energy sparked. A complete contrast to the girl who’d taken hold of his hand as if to reassure him.
Erin realized she was openly gawking at the girl, but didn’t care. Two years ago, she’d spent Christmas Eve locked up in Dade Correctional. Bored and restless, she’d found her way to a makeshift church service, an event she’d normally avoid like the plague, but they’d been giving out fruit punch. Sitting in the back row, she’d listened to the story of Mary and Joseph traveling toward Bethlehem, where Mary would eventually squeeze out Jesus. This girl standing in the doorway, casting an air of calm over the room, was how she’d pictured Mary. Still, serene…eyes brimming with warmth.
“Oh captain, my captain.” The fighter slapped a hand over his heart, punctuating the heavy Brooklyn accent he spoke with. “Try not to endear yourself to me too quickly. We just got here.”
Derek trained cool eyes on him. “You’re on my time, Driscol. Don’t make me regret it.”
Driscol kept his smile in place, but it had lost any trace of humor. The Virgin Mother holding his hand whispered something in his ear and after a second, he nodded. Giving them all a suspicious once-over, he led her to the remaining open seats. He guided his girlfriend into one of them gently and stood behind her with arms crossed over his chest. When he jerked his chin at Connor and received a grunt in return, Erin realized they knew each other. Two strong personalities like that didn’t form truces right off the bat. There might be an air of tension there, but there was also familiarity.
“You were all given a choice,” Derek boomed. “Prison time or my time. One or the other. If you thought I was the lesser of two evils, you were wrong. You each have a skill that landed you in this room and I intend to use those skills to make Chicago safer.” He twisted the gold wedding band on his finger. “There will be a high level of risk involved. If at any point prison sounds safer to you, I won’t stop you from leaving. But if you’re here, you show up on time and work hard. No fucking around.”
Mean Daddy. Erin raised her hand, but didn’t wait to be called on. “When do we get our guns back? I feel naked.”
“No guns. No weapons, period, unless it’s cleared by me.” Derek waited for the protests to die down. “We meet every morning whether