Tempted by Fate (29 page)

He nodded, his attention completely focused on her.

“I was scared he’d find me.” Such an understatement, she realized and swallowed thickly. “I used to have nightmares. Like the one I had the other night, only worse. Every night I’d see my mom’s body lying there, just like the Bad Man had left it. But then the face would change into mine and I’d hear him laughing.”

Squeezing her hand, Ramirez brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She looked at their entwined fingers, puzzled by how such an innocent gesture could feel so comforting. Safe.

“I knew the Bad Man was trying to track me. I narrowly escaped him a couple times, but I kept running. Eventually I ended up in Paris. It’s easier to stay lost in a big city. I spent a lot of time in the Metro, riding the trains aimlessly, because I felt safest in the crush of random strangers. But I wasn’t hanging out in the most reputable places, and I attracted the attention of a man who was exploiting young girls. Selling their bodies.

“I got ambushed and taken. They put me in chains.” Willow shuddered, remembering how the metal hurt. How helpless she felt, with the metal inhibiting her use of
mù ch’i.

Fury sharpened Ramirez’s features. He tried to pull her into his arms.

“Don’t, or I won’t be able to do this.” She stared at him steadily. “I’m not saying this to gain your sympathy. It’s just the way it was. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” His voice was hoarse with rage.

She swallowed. Here went everything. “That’s where I
met Morgan. She’d been captured a few days before me. We devised a plan, not just to escape but to stop the man from doing this to other girls.”

She could see Ramirez working out the different scenarios in his mind. She smiled bitterly. “Imagine the worst, Inspector.”

He froze, his face a stony mask.

Sigh. She drew some energy from the tree to finish her story. “I stopped him the only way I knew how. We escaped, free and clear.”

Not really clear. Morgan had been a mess, both of them plagued by the memories for a long time.

She looked up at the tree, trying to draw comfort from the branches curving overhead. “I’d hit my threshold. I was sick of running, sick of powerful people—men—terrorizing the weak. So when Morgan suggested we do something about it, I jumped at the chance.”

She knew Ramirez got what she was saying by the way his hand slipped free of hers. She tried to steel herself against the cutting pain.
Try
being the operative word.

“Morgan said we’d clean up the streets. It appealed to me.” She gave Ramirez a look. “A lot. But I couldn’t risk the Bad Man tracking me. So Morgan said she’d act as my partner, fielding the assignments, and I could remain incognito. She had the skills to do it, too. She’s amazing with anything electronic, but especially with computers. She was some sort of cyber child prodigy. Anyway, we were selective about the assignments we took.”

“
Assignments?
” He stood up, raking his hair back. “They were people, Willow.”

She stood up, too. “People who preyed on the weak. Of all the contracts offered to us, Morgan and I only
accepted the ones where the target needed to be stopped. Society is better off without them.”

“That’s not for you to decide. That’s up to the justice system.”

“The justice system doesn’t apply to the rich. Do you really think the police would have done anything to stop those people? That guy in Paris was kidnapping girls and selling them to the highest bidders. Several of those bidders were officials from foreign governments.”

“That doesn’t make being a vigilante right.” His voice sounded tight.

She glanced down and saw that his knuckles were white from being clenched so tightly. She surprised herself by wanting to take his hands in hers and soothe him. Not that he’d be open to any kind of comfort from her right now. “I’m not saying I was right or wrong. I’m telling you about my past.”

“You’re telling me you killed people.”

She met his accusing glare. “Yeah, I am.”

“Shit.” He began to pace. “Did you conveniently forget what I do for a living?”

“No.”

“Willow…” He rubbed a hand over his tattoo and stopped directly in front of her. “I could haul you in. There’s no statute of limitations on murder.”

“I know.” She gazed at him unwaveringly. She heard her mother whisper, “
Trust no one,
” but she ignored it for the first time in her life.

“That seems like a big leap of faith, especially for you.”

“I know,” she repeated. Hopefully, she wasn’t making a mistake.

He just stood there, staring for longer than she could stand. When he finally spoke, she wasn’t expecting the question he asked. “Were you approached with those assignments, or did you methodically target these people?”

“Does it matter? The end result is the same.”

“You accepted money for this?”

She shrugged, pretending to be unaffected. She was really good at pretending. “Even Robin Hood needed funds to do his good deeds.”

“This isn’t a joking matter,” he said, his voice low. “What you did was dangerous. You could have been locked away forever. You can
still
be locked away, and for what? For revenge?”

She preferred to think of it as justice, but she knew better than to tell him that. “To get those men off the streets, it’d be worth it.”

“Damn it, Willow.” Ramirez reached out like he wanted to shake her, but, instead, he began to pace again. “Those people had children and people who cared about them. Regardless of what they’d done, it wasn’t your job to judge them.”

Was he angry or repulsed? She couldn’t tell. Her heart cracked at the thought that he could hate her.

But she was used to the pain, and she pushed it aside for later, where she could let it all out in private. “Six months ago, I stopped.”

“Why? What happened six months ago?” he asked in his cool detective’s voice.

“I read in a paper about the death of a professor at the university in Berkeley.”

He stilled, his face suddenly alert.

Strange. She frowned at him but continued on. “The
professor specialized in these specific Chinese artifacts, artifacts the Bad Man seems obsessed with. I thought he was probably responsible for her death. Even if he wasn’t, he’d be drawn by it. So I waited and watched, until I got word that he was here.”

“And you followed him.”

She nodded. “He won’t relent, and I won’t give in to him. He’s destroyed a lot of lives, and I need to stop him.”

Ramirez shocked her by grabbing her shirt and pulling her close. “You will not kill again, Willow. Not on my turf. I won’t hesitate to arrest you.”

“I know,” she said softly, bracing herself on his arms.

“But you’re still going to do it, aren’t you?” His grip tightened on her. “You can’t let go of this vendetta? Not even for me?”

She heard the desperation and hopelessness and love in his tone. Her heart cracked a little more.

Standing back, he looked at her, waiting for her to make a move. What could she do? She couldn’t let the Bad Man get away. Not again. Not when he was so close.

Ramirez raked his hair back. “I don’t know how to feel about all this.”

Swallowing her emotions, she nodded and tried to strike a logical note. “I’m sure you’ve had to kill in the line of duty.”

“That’s different, Willow.”

“How is it different?” She grabbed his shirt and made him face her, logic slipping into passionate defense. “Because you have a tin badge, that makes it okay? It’s the same thing. You take down bad guys in your way, I take them down in mine.”

“It’s not that cut-and-dried.”

“You’re the one who believes everything is black and white.”

He scowled at her. “I need to separate you and my
abuelita.
She’s a bad influence.”

“You know I’m right,” she said, shaking him once.

He covered her fists with his hands, stilling her against him. “Do you want to know what I know? I know that I swore an oath to uphold the law, and you’ve moved outside the law.”

“I—”

“Stop,” he ordered. “It’s my turn to talk.”

She clamped her mouth shut, but she put all her anger and frustration into the death glare she aimed at him.

“You are the most aggravating woman I’ve ever met.” He kissed her so suddenly, it took her by surprise. Just as quickly, he stopped. She noted with satisfaction that he was as breathless as she.

His voice was gravelly when he spoke. “The other thing I know is that the thought of anyone hurting you drives me
insane.
I would do
anything
to take down anyone who harmed you. I’d make sure they suffered for the rest of their lives. But I would abide by the law. I wouldn’t hunt them like they were animals and kill them.”

A weird jumble of feelings caught in her chest: hope and dread circled each other, dread the most prominent of all. She cleared her throat. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not sure. Excusing your actions is the same as condoning them. How can I do that and continue to be a cop? Being a cop is what I am.”

“I know,” she said, losing hope.

He stared at her, his gaze blazing with turmoil. Then he said, “Damn it to hell, Willow.” He turned and stormed off.

She watched him leave, grateful his back was turned so he couldn’t see the single tear rolling down her cheek. Watching him walk away was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She knew she was losing the one person she truly loved.

T
he thick silence in the car was cut only by Morgan’s occasional impatient rustling in the backseat. Willow was thankful Morgan had insisted on coming along. Her presence eased some of the tension. Ramirez hadn’t said more than five words to her since her confession. Like she could blame him.

She glanced at him from under her lashes. She couldn’t tell what was going on in his head. He’d closed himself off from her, and it hurt. So much it eclipsed the discomfort of being in the metal box—and that surprised her. But it pissed her off, too, because he had no right to judge her. Not without walking a mile in her shoes.

“So,” Morgan said brightly from the back.

Neither she nor Ramirez said a word. Her friend allowed a few moments of silence before speaking. “I’ve never been to San Francisco before. What do you guys say, after we drop off the picture, we go somewhere, like the Ferry Building, for lunch? We’ve got to eat, and I can get some sightseeing in at the same time.”

Willow turned in the seat. “You aren’t serious.”

“Of course I’m serious.” Morgan frowned. “Not as serious as you two, but I doubt morticians are as serious as you two.”

Apt analogy. After the talk with Ramirez, Willow felt like part of her had died. She faced the front again, crossing her arms to contain the hurt.

“I don’t think it’s unreasonable to want to see the Golden Gate Bridge,” Morgan continued blithely. “Coming to the city and not seeing the Golden Gate is like going to Paris and not seeing the Eiffel Tower. Like going to Florence and not seeing Michelangelo’s
David.
Like going to Athens and—”

“We get the picture,” Willow cut in.

“If you got the picture, you’d take me to see the bridge,” her friend mumbled from the back.

Ramirez kept his clear gaze on the road, weaving carefully through city traffic. Willow stretched her legs, trying to act like she was unaffected, trying to act like she didn’t want to take his hand and put it on hers, just to be connected.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to pretend for long. As Ramirez parallel parked, she looked around the neighborhood. Calling it industrial would be generous. There wasn’t anything resembling a house around them. “Your friend lives here?”

“Converted loft.” He unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car without waiting for the two of them.

Morgan popped her head between the seats. “What’d you do to him? You’ve got his panties in a twist.”

“I told him.”

“Told him what?” Her eyes widened and she gasped. “Wait. You didn’t tell him about…”

“I did.”