Page 19 of The Verdict

Dios mío, that was close.I breathed in deep, but didn’t break eye contact; those brisk, piercing blues were just as fierce as the night we’d met.

How many times had I thought about him? About what would happen if I saw him again? How many times had I remembered the ferocity of his mouth on mine? The possessiveness with which he killed a man for me and then fucked me… I shivered. The intensity of that primal attachment had a chokehold on me—one I forced myself to break.

A guttural sound broke from his chest as his stare raked over me.

I was in days’ old clothes after a sleepless night, but the way he looked at me made me feel like I could bring him to his knees with a single nod.Heat pooled low in my stomach, partof me wanting to admire him for a moment and the other part wanting to climb over the desk and crush my lips to his. But neither of those were options; not when I’d disappeared on him only to turn up here… wanted for murder.

When I didn’t reply right away, Motorcycle Man took measured steps toward me, and my eyes dropped, greedily soaking up the sight of him.

I’d forgotten how big he was—how broad. The muscled stretch of his chest and shoulders underneath that familiar leather jacket was as much of a deterrent to escape as the weapon still in his hand.

“Look at me.” He tipped forward, and I instantly straightened, my shoulders rolling back. “Did you kill Les Wheaton?”

I shook my head slowly. “No.” There weren’t many truths I was willing to share, but this one I could:I hadn’t killed Les Wheaton.

“Then what are you doing here, Merritt?” he rumbled low, and everything stilled.

He knew my name.

My breath hitched as I held back my reaction—held inmy reaction to his voice charting the course of my name.Of course, he knew it.It was all over the news as of this morning, so it wouldn’t be long before everyone and their brother were looking for me. That was why I was back here now; if there was any information on Jupiter in Wheaton’s house, I had to find it before they inevitably found me.

Except he’d found me first.

He straightened, slow and methodical, like a predator determining whether I was a playmate or prey.

“Why didn’t you go to the police?” he rasped, clearly not ready to believe me. His expression oozed power and control—like one wrong move and he could take me over his knee. And that thought shouldn’t have turned me on the way that it did.

And who are you, Motorcycle Man?I wanted to counter.What are you doing here?I had questions of my own that I wanted answered. He obviously wasn’t police or law enforcement; he hadn’t announced himself before entering the house, and he’d clearly entered the samecovertway I had.But he was smart. And lethal.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” he muttered, and I let my chin dip.

I folded my arms over my chest, hating the role I had to play, but I didn’t have a choice. He might be honorable enough to fight—to kill for me—but I couldn’t trust him—a stranger. It was too dangerous.

“Sometimes, the only difference between life and death is a good lie.”Eduardo Saba was a wise man. Steady. Kind. It was no wonder I’d trusted him right from the start; he’d embodied so many qualities of the parents I’d lost.And then I’d lost him.

But I still carried his words with me, especially in these last five years.

And right now, the only option was that good lie: to let Motorcycle Man see what he wanted to see so he would help me—keep me safe—until I found the answers I needed to set myself free.

“I’m here because whoever killed Les wants to kill me, too.”Real.

Something reminiscent of a snarl appeared in his expression for a split second before it disappeared. “Tell me what happened to Wheaton.”

My throat tightened, having to recall yesterday morning. My heart raced against the confines of its cage as I smudged the edges of the truth in order to save my life.

“I came over yesterday to meet with Les about his son, Max,” I began, stepping through the morning as it had happened. “We came in here to… go over his progress, and Les excused himself to get a drink from the kitchen. The next thing I knew, I heard men talking—arguing, so I went to the door to see what was happening.”

Real-ish. I’d actually come over to tell Les I was taking a break from tutoring. After the holiday party, not only had wild sex with Motorcycle Man made it clear that I had zero real attraction to Les, but more importantly, I was no longer safe.No longer invisible.

After all these years, they’d tracked me here. Found me.

I’d turned in my resignation to the school the first day back from break, and then I’d pulled Max aside and told him someone else was going to have to tutor him because I was moving. He was upset. I knew he’d tell Les, but I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t want him to feel abandoned.

Sure enough, Les reached out a few days later, begging to talk to me in person. I shouldn’t have considered it—I wasn’t going to consider it. But then I worried about what information he might have at the house on me. I worried what danger he could be in for knowing me.

I wished my worries were unfounded.

“Then what happened?” my protector prompted, his eyes still holding lingering traces of distrust.

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