Camila embraced Kate in a hug. “Finally, a girl. And blond?” She glanced at Liv. “Still hunting in the border towns?”
“Until Josh.” Liv moved to the hood of the sedan and picked through the cash, weapons, and phones that had been gathered from the dead men’s pockets. “Kate’s buyer wanted blond and innocent. Took Van a year to find her in the southern slums.” She turned toward Kate. “Your brothers were protective of you, but they’re drug dealers, and they’re involved with some really bad people.”
Kate’s face pinched. “I know.”
“It’ll be fine.” Camila grinned and waved a hand at the men. “You can help me air out the testosterone in our house.”
Josh startled. “You live together?” Were they still considered missing?
Ricky strode around the buyer’s sedan and shoved a lolling arm into the trunk. “We come from broken families and ghettos who wrote us off as runaways.” He slammed the lid shut. “If we return to our hellholes, it might initiate investigations that led to Liv.” He walked back toward the group, eyes on Kate. “You can’t go home.”
She stepped away from Camila’s embrace and rubbed her head. “I…I know.”
Martin pointed a finger at Tate. “You know, that guy threw a fit when we told him he was stuck with us. Look at him now. He’s been trying to fuck me since he moved in.”
Hands laced behind his head, Tate glared at him. “I come into your room at night, because the entire house can hear you shouting Liv’s name while you’re jerking off. You need to get over her, man.”
Martin flipped him off. “Fuck you.” His eyes lit with laughter then shifted back to Liv with unmistakable longing.
Liv’s shoulders squared under Martin’s gaze as she blinked up at Tate. “You look well.” She smiled. “Happier.”
“I am happy, Mis—” He coughed in his fist. “Liv.”
Tate was number six, so he would’ve been her last delivery, which she’d said was eight months earlier. Thick black hair and one of those boxy jaws women love, he smiled like he was posing for a camera, but it was warm and sincere when he regarded Liv. Josh believed she’d never had sex with him, but she knew him intimately. She knew all of their bodies intimately. With her hands. And her mouth.
Jealousy surged through his lungs and tightened his muscles. It was ill-timed and immature, but it couldn’t be helped. His fists clenched, itching to drag her away and pretend that none of this existed.
Ricky nodded at him. “Liv, your boy’s about to pop a vein in his forehead.”
She closed the distance, her shadowy gaze caressing his face, her nearness replenishing the oxygen in the air. She clasped his fists and uncurled his fingers, her hands sticky with blood.
“Why’d you free him without a transaction?” Martin crossed his arms over his chest.
Her eyes didn’t waver from Josh. “He’s stubborn, disobedient, and untrainable.”
He saw so much behind those words. Her spine straightened defensively, her lips flattened with fear, and her eyes hooded with affection.
“He failed the buyer introduction.” She raised their laced hands to her chest. “You would’ve failed the next one, too. It was only a matter of time before Mr. E and Van saw this—” Her lashes lowered, her gaze on their hands, and fluttered back up. “They would’ve killed you.”
A mass of regret clotted his throat. He didn’t mourn loving her, never that. But he wished he was smarter. There had to be a safe way to end this with her family protected, but he couldn’t see it.
The guys continued their road cleanup, but their attentions lingered on Liv. Without hesitation, his possessive heart led his lips straight to hers. With a hand on her neck, his other clasping hers against her chest, he kissed her deeply, nipping, licking, stealing her breaths, swallowing the hum in her throat. She was his, and he owned her mouth with a kiss that would leave no misunderstanding.
When he released her lips, her eyes clung to him, dark and hungry. Exactly how he wanted her. After all his questions were answered. “You freed me. Freed Kate. How does this save your mom and daughter?”
Camila paused in her effort to kick gravel over a patch of blood-stained dirt. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.”
The red slicking Liv’s cleavage gleamed in the headlights as her chest heaved. She unwound their hands and walked toward the van. “We need to wrap this up.”
He shoved his fingers through his hair, watching the uncharacteristic wobble in her retreating strides. “Camila, why didn’t she tell me about you? About this?” He gestured at Ricky and Luke, who were pouring jugs of acrid-smelling vinegar over the crime scene.
“She freed you,” she said, softly. “When you return, you’ll be swept into the investigation of your disappearance. Lots of interrogations.” She jerked her chin at the group. “How are you going to keep this a secret? We’re killing people, Josh. And Liv is crazy protective of our identities. In fact, she’s terrified her expressions or reactions around Mr. E and Van will give us away. So she lies to herself when she’s in that house. She thinks of us as dead.” She turned toward Kate, whose eyes were glazed and distant, and stroked her hair. “Until she needs us.”
Across the road, Liv leaned against the passenger door of the van, stripping her boots and wiping the blood from her chest with a t-shirt, her expression downcast and inwardly focused. He never once suspected this endgame, and he liked to think he knew her better than anyone else did.
He watched her with a renewed appreciation for her mystery. She was a complicated puzzle, one he planned to enjoy for the rest of his life.
A new life. What did that look like? He wouldn’t return to his old life without her. Yet, she’d sent him on his way as if she expected him to do just that. His spine tingled. “She wouldn’t have freed me unless she had a solution to save her family.”
Kate’s shoulders bunched as she watched Liv wrestle with the front clasps of the bodice. “She’s going to kill herself.”
His nostrils flared, his pulse spiking in objection. “Did she tell you that?”
Her head shook as she hugged herself. “I was just thinking about her behavior since we left the house. She cried a lot on the way here. Then her voice grew cold and weird. She started singing “Last Resort”, you know, that suicide song by Papa Roach. Definitely not her usual genre of music.”
Muscle-clenching fear shot through his legs. He sprinted toward Liv, watching her movements, his entire body aware of her fingers on her corset and her feet pacing in a tight circle. Did she have a weapon on her? Would she attempt it right there? In front of him?
He skidded before her and slapped her hands from her belly. “Do you have a blade under your clothes?” He wiggled the remaining hooks free, dropped the corset, and tackled her bra, searching the seams. “Answer me.”
“Fuck you.” She gripped his arms, tried to stop his hands from unclasping the back hooks.
The bra dropped, her breasts bare and streaked with red. No weapon. He dropped to her latex shorts, shoved them past her hips.
“What the hell are you doing?” She glowered down at him, kicking off her shorts like she was going to kick him.
Well, screw her. He was a breath away from tying her up. He opened the passenger door and shifted her until the door gawk-blocked her nudity from the nosy onlookers.
With her arm twisting in his grasp, he pulled her chest against him and pinned her back against the inside of the door, his voice low and vibrating. “Did you consider me in your suicide plans?”