A cold shroud settled around her despite the sweltering temperature. With her stomach churning, she caught up and matched his stride.
She was a real mess, emotions running wild, and she couldn’t let any of it show.
It was one bad thing after another. Losing a witness, being framed for the murder of a colleague, no loyalty from a shameful boss, and now being on the run. Yet the distance from Aiden clung to her like a choking vine, tightening her throat, squeezing her chest and making it hard to breathe.
Finally, they reached Bourbon and turned left. The famous bustling street vibrated with crackling energy. The cacophony of laughter, conversations, jazz and rap music was an overwhelming relief.
They strode through the throng of people, looking for Avido’s Restaurant, where they hoped to find Big Bill Walsh and survive the encounter.
Charlie hated fumbling her way through something on a wing and a prayer and unarmed.
At any rate, she wasn’t stuck in this alone. She had Aiden. There wasn’t a better person to have at her side if she was in trouble.
Even if he was still so angry at her that he hadn’t looked at her since they’d left the hotel.
Not only had she deeply hurt him, but she’d also disappointed him.
If she could take back ever sleeping with Nick last year, she would. It had meant nothing to her, whereas Aiden meant everything. Not that it would change anything now.
A chasm had opened between them last night when he’d poured out his heart to her and she hadn’t been fully forthcoming in return. All this time, she’d had him locked tight in the friend zone, never daring to jeopardize their precious bond by sleeping with him, and it had only pushed him away to the point he wanted to leave her. Take the job here in Louisiana, of all places, at Camp Beauregard.
It was like some twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.
There were some things that couldn’t be fixed. Charlie feared that she and Aiden were one of them. If she lost him, it would do more than break her heart. It would devastate her. The thought came with a knife-sharp pang, but she didn’t break her stride.
She saw the sign for Avido’s two doors down on the other side of the street. “There it is.”
“I’d have to be blind to miss it,” he said.
They couldn’t walk into Big Bill’s place like this—distracted and snapping at each other, their friendship fractured.
They needed to be the dynamic duo again if they were going to prevail with the deck stacked against them.
“Hey,” she said, cupping his bare arm, stopping him from crossing the street. “We need to go in there as a united front.”
He jerked away from her grasp. “We both want to clear our names and walk out alive. That’s about as united as we’re going to get. Look, I’m sorry I crossed the line and kissed you. Touched you like that. It was a mistake.”
Her heart sank and her jaw dropped.
“Let’s forget it ever happened,” he continued, “and move on. Stay focused on the mission. Okay, Killinger?”
Inwardly she cringed so hard it hurt every time he called her by her last name. “Stop it. Stop calling me that.” It was driving her insane.
“Why? It’s your name.”
“Aiden, I—”
The door to Avido’s opened, drawing both their gazes.
Charlie’s heart nearly stopped. Frank Devlin walked out along with another man, tall, thickset, with a shaved head. Both had the telltale bulges of holstered weapons under their arm.
The timing couldn’t have been worse.
“He’s supposed to be on a plane later tonight. Not here. Now,” she said.
Aiden took her by the elbow and turned away, shoving through a group of singing drunk guys.
“Watch it, buddy,” one of them said.
A surge of adrenaline made her body buzz. Charlie craned around for a quick glance back.
Devlin spotted them. He tapped the burly guy beside him, pointed at them and then launched across the street.
Charlie took off without saying a word to Aiden. There was no need. She knew he followed right on her heels.
No matter how disconnected they were personally, they had always been in sync professionally.
They ran, forcing their way through the dense weekend crowd.
Aiden snatched her hand and cut down the side street, Orleans, dragging her with him. Then they ran at a flat-out sprint. Keeping up with him wasn’t an issue. She could run like hell. The muggy air seemed to thicken. Breath sawed in and out of her lungs. Her heartbeat and the thump of their boots pounding on the pavement filled her ears.
Devlin and his surprisingly fast cohort came charging after them.
They had to shake those two men.
Straight ahead was a fenced-in garden behind a three-steepled church with a statue of Jesus in the center of the lawn, His arms upraised. This was the time to say a prayer if she knew any. The garden would do them little good, since it was a wide-open space and provided no cover.
Neither Charlie nor Aiden knew the city, while Devlin had home-field advantage and the entire police force on his side.
Charlie and Aiden reached the corner, their breaths coming hard. Looked left. Looked right. Split-second decision made.
They bolted down Pirates Alley and threaded in between strolling pedestrians. To one side of the thoroughfare was a towering church. To the other, the Cabildo and a Technicolor melee of lime green shutters, garish blue doors and neon yellow walls in the bowels of the city—all screaming that they had no clue where to run.
At the gaping mouth of the alley was a milling crowd. With a little luck, they might blend in, disappear.
On instinct, they turned to the left in unison, without hesitation, toward the church. Charlie made a beeline for the doors, hand in hand with Aiden.
It was locked. On the sign, the St. Louis Cathedral didn’t open until five on Saturday.
Aiden tugged her up against him into a pocket of shadows in an alcove. Her heart jackhammered in her chest. Her brain engaged. Professional awareness was in high gear. Her determination like a cold iron bar. But there was no ignoring the feel of him against her, every spot where they touched, each lick of friction as they pressed closer. He was so solid and heavy, warmth radiating from his muscles flexing under her palms.
She wanted to shut off that part of her brain that picked up those details but also commit the particulars to memory. How steady and calm he was. The world could be falling apart, and he’d still be rock-solid.
The taller, stocky guy pounded past the front of the cathedral as vacationers taking photos in the pedestrian-only plaza out front inadvertently helped shield them. It probably didn’t occur to him to look at the entrance since he knew the church would be closed.