Deeper (The Deeper Chronicles #1) (39 page)

“You have a gun.” She scrutinized his face.

To distract her, he nipped at her slender neck. “You know I own a gun.”

“But—”

He moved his hard cock into her lower stomach. “You’re focusing on the wrong bulge.” A curse slipped between his lips when she ground herself into him. “Let’s get out of here.”

“One more dance,” she begged, her hand over the front of his pants.

An hour later, they still hadn’t left, even though they had rejoined Noah’s friends.

“Let’s go, babe,” Ro said when Stacey yawned, pulling his wife to stand.

“We’re right behind you,” Noah said. “For all those forced dances, I plan on fucking you until you can’t walk straight.”

Avi stood then turned back with a wink. “Is that a promise?”

Had she not hurried toward Ro and Stacey, he probably would have dragged her to the nearest office. Noah said his goodbyes before catching up with Avi. His hands found her tempting hips as they continued down the stairs. Before going outside, they picked up their coats. A security personnel swung the door wide, and everyone could feel the arctic temperature. As they waited on the sidewalk, Avi nestled into her thick coat.

“It’s freezing,” she said, shivering.

Noah rubbed down Avi’s arms to provide further heat. Town cars and taxi cabs whizzed by them as Noah waited for Zach to bring around his car.

A dark car rounded the corner slowly.

Avi’s heated breath licked Noah’s skin.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he said.

She placed small kisses on the side of his mouth.

“I’m tearing every piece of cloth—”

Rapid popping sounds punctured the night.

Noah pushed Avi down, cushioning her from the cold pavement. Screams surrounded him.

Pulling out his gun, Noah opened fire, shattering the back glass. He sprinted down the middle of the street, his sight on his goal. Another shot went into the car, and he was pleased when he heard screams. The passenger turned in Noah’s direction, quick to return fire. A bullet whizzed by Noah’s head. It slowed him, but didn’t stop his feet. Around him, cars honked their horns while a few narrowly missed hitting him. Pausing, he fired again, but the car zoomed through a red light and almost sideswiped another car.

His heart hammered with adrenaline as he realized he had to stop running. Noah stared at the disappearing taillights in front of him with a grimace.
Fucking cowards.
While he tried to catch his breath, unrecognizable voices—some making calls, some expressing shock—came into his consciousness.

Drivers stood outside their cars; the sidewalk were filling up with onlookers, and all of them were looking at Noah, as well as what he was clutching for dear life.
Shit.
He jammed his gun under his jacket. He moved, but his feet crunched down on shards of plastic material and glass. Someone actually came after people he cared about. When he retraced his steps, Noah’s face was an impenetrable mask. Sirens blared in the background, but his concern was for Avi. He hurried his pace to get to her. She sat huddled, head down between her opened knees and shoulders slumped.

She shook like a leaf, flinching away when he reached out to her.

“Avi, it’s me.”

That seemed to do the trick. She raised her head. Her face was scrunched and her cheeks wet. Her lips trembled. This time when he pulled her close, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Stacey,” Ro yelled from behind them.

Noah and Avi’s heads turned in unison when Ro lifted from his wife’s body, hand blotted with blood.

“S
o tell me again where you were?”

“I told you I didn’t see anything.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask what you saw. I asked where you were.”

Avi folded her hands on the table. With a huff, she began again. “My back was to the street. All I can tell you is how it felt hitting the cold cement and hearing my friend scream his wife’s name.” She was purposefully being cheeky, but he was getting on her nerves.

They’d been going around in circles for what seemed like forever. He was on a hunt for specifics, which Avi couldn’t provide, because she didn’t see anything. She was frustrated. And if his pinched features and squinted eyes were an indication, so was the detective who sat across from her.

“What about a car color? A hand sticking out the window? Something to corroborate what your criminal boyfriend told us at the crime scene,” Detective Giampa asked.

She frowned at his tone and the word:
criminal
. It brought back to mind when she’d heard it shouted from the crowd at Harry’s funeral.

“Are you going to answer my question?” Frank spat out.

She blinked, coming out of her head. “I don’t know anything about anyone being a criminal. What I do know is that I didn’t see anything. I didn’t see a hand or a car color.” She jabbed a finger into the table. “I was too busy trying to stay alive.”

Giampa’s bushy, salt and pepper eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. You’re the daughter of a dirty cop—”

Under the table, her leg shook. “Wh-what?” she asked after clearing her throat.

But he spoke over her as if Avi never interrupted him. “...and the girlfriend of a notorious drug dealer. You must be like both of them.”

At his convicting tone, Avi stiffened. The insult smacked her consciousness, leaving her mute. She bristled, turning her face from him.
Dirty cop? Notorious drug dealer?

Lies. Avi was certain of it.

The snide terms rolled off the detective’s tongue just like a guilty verdict.

What could have happened in the six days since she’d last seen him at Harry’s funeral? Then, he had been kind and empathetic. But now, his scowl seemed a permanent fixture on his face the longer she was in his presence.

A knock on the door put an end to his interrogation.

Frank pushed his chair backward, stood, and stomped over to the closed door. He swung it open with as much violence as he’d like to unleash on Avi and her story, or so it seemed to her. The opened door revealed the man she kept meeting inside the police station.

“Ms. Linton, let’s go.” Robert Plummer moved from behind Detective Giampa to stand by his side.

“Yeah, you’re free to go with the crooked lawyer hired by the city’s biggest drug dealing slimeball.” He stood by the door.

Plummer turned around, facing him. “Watch it, or you could be facing slander charges instead of trying to help our glorious city rid itself of the real person or persons responsible for what happened, Detective Giampa.” He spun back to Avi. “Please, miss, I have a car waiting for you.”

Having little choice, Avi silently took the man’s invitation, walking past Giampa.

An outstretched hand stopped her departure.

She looked down to where his hand rested on her forearm, and then back up at the man’s face. Remorse flickered in his eyes.

“Look. I’m sorry if I’m coming across as a dick—pardon my language—but this shi-stuff with Harry...”

“You mean my
father
.” The word felt heavy on her tongue, but was right. She wouldn’t have his name dirtied. “He was a good man.”
He saved a dying boy’s life.

Giampa’s face hardened.

There’s the douchebag who’s been questioning me.

“Nobody expected this from Manning.” He blew out a harsh breath. “I was his partner for two years.” Giampa came closer to Avi and lowered his voice. “But your supposedly upstanding boyfriend...” he trailed off, sarcasm bleeding from his words.

Avi shook her head and narrowed her eyes.

Releasing Avianna from his hold, Giampa pushed a large envelope into her hand. “You’re a smart girl. You’re a school teacher and all. I see you don’t believe me. I don’t blame you. But it’s my privilege to lock scum like Adams away for the rest of their worthless lives.”

Avi’s brows puckered and she drew in a short breath.

“Don’t take me at my word, whatever. But believe what’s here.” He tapped the gold-colored envelope against her forearm.

Her gut said to run. But run to where? To Noah?
If Giampa was right about Noah, then what had she gotten herself into? But what if this detective was wrong? Is
Noah still dealing drugs? That couldn’t be right.
She looked into the detective’s eyes for some sort of clue, but his expression held the same smugness as when he had barged into her father’s funeral services.

“Just read it, okay? My card’s in there.”

“Fine,” Avi said, snatching the envelope and shoved it into her purse.

“Coming, Ms. Linton?” Noah’s lawyer looked curiously at her then at Giampa, who shrugged.

She rushed forward, passing by the man in the pricey suit who she’d never be able to afford. Now she wondered just how much of what the detective had shared was the truth.

“There you are.” Noah rushed up the steps to meet her. “I tried to get you out as soon as I could. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

She scoffed at Noah’s unusual question.

Why would the cops hurt her? They swore to uphold the law, not break it.

As the car eased into traffic, Noah made cryptic responses into his phone, none of which she understood, so she gave up following once tiredness swept through her.

While Avi slept beside him, Noah could taste the retribution he planned on unleashing. He dialed the familiar numbers.

“I’m on my way,” Noah said.

“She’s stable and resting. Nothing you can do here. Plus, everyone just left.” There was a pause. “Do we know anything?” Ro asked.

“You take care of Stacey. I’ll handle everything else.”

Beside him, Avi shifted, mumbling in her sleep.

“Noah—”

“Now’s not a good time,” he said low into the phone.

“Sure. Sure.”

The car stopped just as Avi awoke.

“But I’m on top of it. Know that.” Noah ended the call.

“Noah?” She sounded disoriented, even though her tone was low and still sleep-drenched.

He turned to face her. Avi moved back from him, her eyebrows wrinkled; his own dark and scowling features were reflected back at him in her curious gaze.

“Is Stacey okay?”