Every breath of the bitter autumn air burnt my lungs as my bare feet slapped against the sand-dusted sidewalk along the bayfront. Each step felt like cold shards of glass, but I didn't stop. I had never come so close to death before. Not like that at least.

My thighs trembled with fatigue, but adrenaline pushed me forward until I found myself in a familiar back alley with painted gray brick, looking up at four flights of wrought iron stairs. I didn't give myself time to change my mind or let my body argue even though my legs felt like cement with every step. I climbed as quietly as I could until I reached the top.

By the time I stumbled onto Desirae's balcony, my body was shot. I collapsed onto a lounge chair in front of her bedroom door, trying not to make a sound as I shivered against the metal frame.

I didn't want to wake her. I didn't want to get her involved any more than she already was. I'd be gone before the first hint of daylight ever crept over the bay's horizon, I just needed time to recoup.

But as I shut my eyes, a soft padding against the glass doors that led into her bedroom made me twist my neck around. Colonel Mustard sat up on his hind legs, pawing at the glass. I raised my finger to my lips, like trying to shush a cat would do any good. As soon as we made eye contact, his bushy little mustached mouth opened with a meow.

Traitor.

The patio door ripped open and Desirae stepped out, gun drawn and pointed my way.

"If you're gonna shoot, make it count," I groaned.

"Kirby?!" The gun lowered to her hip. "You can't be here. You're gonna get me kicked off this case or—" As she stepped around the lounge chair, she dropped to her knees at my side. "Oh my god, what happened to you?"

"I'm fine." My voice cracked like Cal still had his hands wrapped around my vocal chords. "I just need a place to crash for a couple hours. You won't even know I'm here." I tried to hide a grimace as I leaned back against the chair. Her fingers trembled over me before sliding away the strands of hair that had been matted to my face, wet with either blood or sweat, I wasn't sure. My stubborn will gave out and I melted into her warm palm. "I'm sorry, Des, I didn't know where else to go."

"Who did this to you?"

I didn't want to tell her, but I knew she'd pry it out of me anyway. "An angry spouse and a juiced up goon."

"Landon figured out who you were." The delicate concern on her face hardened as she looked beyond me towards the fire escape. "Or he already knew." She stood up, slinking over to the railing to peer down, gun still ready in her hands as she scanned the alleyway. "Let's get inside."

I mustered up what strength I could to clamber out of the lounge chair. My feet went to pins and needles beneath me, still all numb from running and blistered from those cheap fucking heels that saved my life. I would've smashed my face on the balcony floor had Desirae not caught my arm, steadying me upright to lead me inside.

She switched on a lamp beside her bed, setting her gun down on the nightstand, then hurried back to my side. Without a word, her fingers found the clasp on the back of my dress. She quickly slid the zipper down, patting and shaking out the tattered, bloodstained sequins.

"I don't normally question women undressing me," I murmured as she peeled the capped sleeves down off my shoulders. "But—" The dress fell to the floor and for the third time tonight, I was standing in my underwear in front of her. A little less confident this time, but grateful I splurged for the classic lace lingerie set. My eyes wandered up Desirae's bare legs where a silky pair of lavender shorts hugged her hips. A matching cami loosely hung from her shoulders and a scarf wrapped her locs that were still neatly tied up in a bun. "I uh, like your scarf."

She ignored me, brows furrowed. Her hands went to my hair, running her fingers through the tangled dark mess. I winced and pulled back when she found the swollen bloody knot on the side of my head.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I'm just making sure they didn't slip a tracker on you or any kind of bug."

My hands went to my boobs as I peeked inside the cups and felt around. All me. Tugging the elastic band of my underwear out, I glanced downstairs and then gave my ass a quick pat around. Bruised from cheek to cheek, but nothing foreign.

Desirae's shoulders eased as she stared me down, but worry still wrinkled her forehead. "Did anyone see you climb up here?"

I snorted out a laugh. "I uh, don't think Cal is seeing much of anything right now." My humor quickly turned to sharp pain. I cupped my side and tried to hold it back. "At least not from his right eye."

"Calogero Cassini?" She moved my hand away from my ribs and gently ran her thumb over each one, leaning in close to look. Already, a bruise had started to darken my side in the shape of his boot. "They were supposed to let me know when he got back to the states. The whole family is in Taormina right now for a wedding." Her breath warmed the skin of my stomach as she spoke. "He got you good, Kirby. Does anything feel broken?"

"I'm fine, Des. Really. I grew up with a revolving door of step-dads, I can take a beating." I sucked in a pained breath as her thumb lowered to my hip bone where an abrasion left my skin raw and bloody. "Besides, I'm a ginger. We bruise easy. I'm sure it looks worse than it actually is."

"I knew I shouldn't have let you go," she murmured, looking back up at me. Her dark eyes glistened with guilt.

"This is not your fault at all. Even if I'd taken your goober ride, Cal was waiting for me."

"I spilled your drink on purpose," she flatly blurted out. "And I should've told you that."

Her admission surprised me, but I wasn't sure what she meant. "I kinda figured that when you dragged me into the studio afterwards, but I'm not really following."

Crossing her arms, she pulled away from me and looked down at the floor. "From the minute you left my studio, I had my eyes on you. But that was the problem. So I tried to shift my focus back to Landon, to see who he was working with for this new non-transplant tissue program. But then there you were again, with him. And the way he was looking at you—I don't know if it was just instinct or my own unwillingness to let you out of my sight, hell, maybe even jealousy, but it just didn't feel right. And I should've told you that so you would've known he was onto you."

I carefully considered everything she was saying, making a special note of the jealousy motive, but it didn't change anything. "They would've found me one way or another, whether I knew or not," I replied, trying to lighten her misplaced guilt. "I mean, I'm kinda sleeping in the lion's den, staying with Raf. I knew the risks coming home."

She bobbed her head slightly, but still she wouldn't look up from the floor.

"And the dangers of getting involved with Black Axe," I added.

That got her attention.

"What?"

It hurt like hell to laugh, but I couldn't hold back. "Landon thinks you're part of some Black Axe job to get to his private collection of Benin bronzes. He heard you on the phone with a 'buyer,' said you switched to Nigerian—his words, not mine—when he walked by the other day."

Confused delight slowly spread across her face. I was just glad to see her smile again. "I was talking to my mother. She speaks Igbo." Her eyes narrowed again. She seemed dumbfounded, but pleased at the same time. "He admitted he has his own collection of Benin bronzes?"

"And he thought you commissioned me to steal them. Which actually isn't a bad idea if you ask me," I replied with a grin, nudging her arm. "I mean, we obviously make a great team. Another B&E to repatriate the bronze pieces would make a great second date."

"Not a chance. What did you tell him?"

"Oh." My grin turned to a pout. "Well, I went along with it of course. Dropped Black Axe for flair. Was that 'not a chance' to the B&E or us going on a second date?"

"This is good," she nodded, still ignoring my question. "I thought for sure he was onto me this week. But we can play into this." Her eyes slowly traveled over my body til they met mine again. Their delight turned to worry once more. "But that means he gave you over to Cal because of me."

I shook my head. "Landon wanted me roughed up, but alive so I could fetch the Degas for him. I guess he thought Cal would convince me to hand them over. Unfortunately, Pino wants me dead for well, probably several reasons at this point." But as I said the words aloud, I remembered exactly why Pino wanted me dead this time. The ache in my stomach quickly started to sour at the thought of Artie's body missing. "Cousin Cal's loyalty obviously lies with the family," I quickly added before Desirae decided it was time to interrogate me again.

But there was only softness in her dark eyes as she reached out and squeezed my arm. "Thank you for covering for me."

"You're welcome."

Her hand lingered around my elbow before sliding away and back to her side. Selfishly, I didn't want her to let go. I wanted to pretend the last three hours of the night hadn't happened. That we dipped out on the opening after she purposely spilled wine all over my dress. That I was just some no-name model and she was just the sexy forensic artist who talks to skulls.

Gabe's skull.

I folded my arms around my stomach to try to hide a shiver, but Desirae noticed.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up," she offered. "And I'll find you something to sleep—"

"There's something else, Des. I know you think Landon is somehow involved in Gabe's death, but he seemed to think we were the ones who staged that tableau at the museum."

"What? What do you mean?"

"He said I owe him the Degas because of what our little stunt tonight cost him. He didn't specify, but he did seem to think you were trying to blackmail him with the skull."

"By reconstructing the face to get an ID, he means." She snatched her phone from the bed and swiped through it. "I knew it. His hands are all over this."

"Yes, but—"

Opening the door to her bathroom, she gestured for me to follow. She flicked the shower head on and began laying out a couple towels and a new loofah while she scrolled through her phone.

As I stepped inside, my knobby knees continued to rattle, every muscle in my thighs twitched. "Do you mind if I soak in the tub instead?"

"Not at all." She switched the faucet over and took a seat on the edge of the white tub, running her hand through the water. "You did good, Kirby," she said, hardly looking up from her phone. "You don't have to worry about anything else."

Funny. Artemisia had once told me the same thing. Back then, her words just fed into my praise kink and even now I found myself having to stave it off. I wanted to trust Desirae more than I needed to, but I could tell there was still more she was intentionally keeping from me.

While her eyes were fixed to her phone, I slipped off my underwear and bra and stepped past her into the tub. She stood up to turn away, but must have seen the look of pain on my face as I tried to ease myself down. Her hands went to my waist as I gripped the side of the tub and her bicep. The heat of the water scorched my skin in all the good ways and I slowly laid back, closing my eyes.

Her hand slipped away from mine and she stood up quickly. "I'm uh, going to go lay some clothes out for you. Unless I need to stay to make sure you don't pass out and drown?"

My chest rose out of the water as I took a deep breath. Already, my muscles had begun to relax. I peeked an eye open to find her turned towards the fogged vanity. "I won't be long."

"Take your time," she insisted, grabbing her phone.

"Thanks, Desi."

Through the steam, I caught her dark gaze in the mirror and the hint of a smile.