DELIVER(96)


We’re so happy for you! When you’re ready, our home is your home.

A couple lingering concerns…

The kitchen was clean when we arrived. The job was gone. No cars in the garage. Were you able to take care of this on your own?

Traquero and his wife are dead. Found two days ago. We’re not sure who did it, but the how was passionate. Definitely personal.





Chapter 43




Van’s death replayed through Liv’s head in slow motion. The gunfire. The river of blood on the floor. His final words. He killed your mother…Needed your help…He’ll avenge me. Leading her surge of emotions was the overwhelming relief that Traquero’s depravity had met a bloody end.

Josh closed the bathroom door, his complexion a sheet of white. “You shot him in the shoulder.” He rubbed the back of his neck, studying her. “It’s possible he survived that.”

She opened the toilet lid, flushed the note, and tried to keep her argumentative voice to a whisper. “He bled out.”

“Or passed out.” He shoved his hands through his hair and dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Ugh, so stupid.” He shut his eyes. “We didn’t check his pulse.”

Her mouth went dry. She closed the toilet lid and collapsed on top of it. Her chest felt hard and cold inside. “We left him there to die.”

He crouched before her and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Except he didn’t die. And when he came to the house last night, he’d already killed Traquero.”

She blinked, the movement irritating her gritty, tired eyes. “He must’ve flown to the Keys to help Mom.” She nodded to herself, swallowing past a tight throat. “He could’ve killed Traquero on his way back. But how did he know how to find him?” A horrible thought clenched her stomach. “What if he knows about Camila and the others?”

His hand wrapped around her neck, his thumb stroking the skin below her ear. “Think about why he killed Traquero.”

The only things predictable about Van were his jealousy and his hypocrisy. “Traquero hurt me.” Van had no qualms raising a hand to her, but Traquero had overstepped, recklessly. Van probably killed the wife in front of him just to make him suffer. “I think he packed up and left with the intention of protecting Mom and disappearing. When he failed, maybe he came back to avenge Mom’s death.” Would he do that? For her? The ache in her chest said, Yes.

“I despise Van.” He tilted his head. “But his behavior in the kitchen when you shot him…” A line formed between his dark eyebrows. “I got the sense that he was done. With Mr. E. With the whole operation.”

She sifted through her memories of the prior night when he was bleeding all over the floor. She couldn’t pick out a single word, expression, or action that suggested ill-intent. “If he knew about Camila and the others, he’d have no reason to harm them.” Her shoulders loosened. “He’s not a threat.”

He pulled her to the edge of the toilet seat, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his forehead on her belly. “You’re not leaving my sight.”

Her hands went to his hair, raking through the messy black strands. “I can work with that.” She lowered her lips to his head and filled her nose with his warm, comforting scent.

A fist knocked on the door. “Joshua?” Emily called. “Are you in there?”

His moan rumbled through her. He raised his head and kissed her lips. “I’ll be right outside that door.”





Chapter 44




Twenty minutes later, Liv was showered, dressed in the pajama set Camila gave her, and wrapped in blankets on the couch. The kitchen light trickled into the sitting room, accompanied by low murmurs. Josh and his parents were still awake, gathered at the kitchen table around the corner. She’d declined the biscuits Emily made, too exhausted to eat. It must’ve been around seven in the morning before sleep finally took her.

Not long after, she woke, cradled in his arms, her body pressed against his chest as he carried her through the brightening house. Stubborn man was breaking his parents’ rules.

“Aren’t your parents due to get up?” she whispered.

“We’ve already done all the morning chores. They just passed out.”

She grinned, hooked her arms around his neck, and found his mouth.

His tongue met hers eagerly, his lips wet and inviting. In his unlit room, he closed the door with a quiet click and dropped her on a mattress. The shades blacked out the daylight, drenching the room in darkness. She hadn’t been in there yet, and when she scooted back to make space for him, she quickly learned how damned small his bed was. Her head thumped against the wall. She cringed, hoping she hadn’t awakened his parents. “How the hell do you fit in this?” she whispered.

Clothes rustled, his breaths deepening, growing closer. “You’re about to see how both of us fit.”

The mattress dipped and hands grabbed her top, stripping it over her head. Her sleep shorts went next. Then he was on her, spreading her thighs, his naked body sliding over hers, his cock prodding between her legs, coaxing a delicious spark of fire.

His teeth caught her nipple, tugging and stretching. Her hands fisted in the sheets. His fingers swept along her sides, his weight wonderfully heavy, his hips grinding against hers.

Pam Godwin's Books