Page 44 of Love After Never


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An unfamiliar urge lifts its head from inside of me. I want to stop the car and gather her into my lap, tell her that I’ll take care of it. Tell her that I’ll do anything she wants as long as she drops this idea of going to Whip.

But I don’t.

Because if her leads have pointed her in that direction, then I need to be there as well.

And in my experience, vulnerability is rarely the right answer.

“Layla,” I say, softy enough that she’s forced to lean toward me to catch my next words. “What else do you suggest?” I wait for an answer. When I receive none, I continue with, “I’m going to walk in with some detective who everyoneknowsis a detective, and fuck someone else, get the information, and walk out again with a detective? It’s not a great idea. You’ll need to play the part, and the best way to do so is to go in there as a performer.”

She glances over at me, her brow furrowed. “I mean, obviously we’d be stealthier.”

If she has any qualms about being there with me, she lets nothing show.

“No one is that stealthy. Have you been to Whip?” I shoot her a sideways look and see her shake her head once. That’s a no. “These people are looking for a reason not to trust. And that’s on a good day. You’ll have to work twice as hard, and even so, the stick up your ass will give you away in a second.”

She spits poison at me. “You don’t know me.”

I press my foot down hard on the accelerator. “Trust me, sweetheart, I know your type.”

“If that’s the case, then I’m sorry for you.”

Her voice drops and when I stop at a light, I see her weighing her decisions. It’s the perfect chance to study her. In profile, Layla is even more beautiful than straight on. Probably because her scowl packs much less punch when looking at her sideways.

“You’ve performed there before.” It’s less a question than a statement.

She’s staring at me now.

“Sweetheart, Daddy Thor has been on many stages. The Velvet Underground just gives me the best choice for pussy,” I tell her.

Her eyes flash with irritation. “I’d guessed that, but it hits differently hearing you say it,” she says.

Her attitude is almost enough to make me miss the fact that there is something flickering behind her eyes. It’s there and gone in a blink as she shoves it down and once again dons the apathetic poker face.

She’d gone tense.

“At least you know you’re getting a seasoned partner for your first taste of the limelight. Come on,” I croon. “Look me in my eyes and tell me you haven’t thought about being fucked on stage.”Fucked by me. I don’t add the last part until I’m good and ready, mostly because I want to savor her reaction.

She scoffs but there’s hesitation in the sound. “You say you know my type,” she goads. “Why don’t you tell me?”

I open my mouth to answer but she barrels ahead.

“I won’t come in, then. I’ll stay here. In the car,” she adds for clarification. She turns her head slightly to face me. “I’m not going to pretend to put on a show with you.”

Honestly, I’m surprised.

“Have you ever hung back from anything in your life?” I know she hasn’t because I do know her type. The ones who are so emotionally damaged they dive into risk without a thought for the consequences. Except something about her is different, and maybe it’s because she chose to protect people with that badge of hers. I’ve done my studying on Layla Sinclair and from what I’ve seen, she goes after the deadbeats the same way I do. She takes on the cases that no one else is willing to touch and does her best to get justice for the victims.

Her personal life?

I don't know much about her history outside of her dad’s murder but something must have happened to her to make her this way. Or multiple things.

Once she has a lead on this case, when it becomes the kind of case destined to connect her to information about her dead father, she won’t let anyone stand in her way. And she’d never let someone she didn’t fully trust run with it.

Until we get to that point…

“No, I haven’t,” she answers sullenly.

I shift toward her, wondering how much of this is just her need to be contrary and how much is a legitimate hesitation. “You just want to wait in the car, then?”

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