Page 51 of The Verdict

Shit.

My tongue thickened, and I tightened my hand over the gash. I could hardly feel the wound in my side—not when he looked at me like that. But I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t go back with him. Not now. Maybe he might’ve trusted me before had I told him the truth at the start, but now there was no way. This was my life at stake. My future because of my past. And the only person I could trust to fix it was myself.

My fingers gripped the square paperweight, the edges digging into my skin.

“Merritt,” he growled and took my arm, his face within inches of mine, fury fuming from his expression.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, unable to stop the cry that burst free when the paperweight in my hand connected with the side of his temple.

His eyes widened and rolled back, and then my big, beautiful motorcycle man started to go down. I reached for him, my side screaming in pain as I tried to catch his massive weight and lower him to the ground slowly.

Air heaved into my chest, and I squeezed my eyes shut,willing my body to cooperate because there was no going back now.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured again, wiping the blood from his forehead.

I checked his breathing.Steady.Next,I fished out his cell phone from his pocket, gritting my teeth as the pain in my side swelled like a violent tide. I found his text message with Ty; this address was the last message Ty had sent. I quickly tapped out a reply.

Rhys is injured.

As soon as it was sent, I set his phone next to him and took his gun; at this point, what was one more thing added to the pile of evidence that I wasn’t to be trusted?

And then I let myself look at him.The man who’d come for me even though I’d lied to him. Saved me even though I’d betrayed him.So handsome and calm.My knight in shining leathers.

I framed his face with my hands, cursing myself for everything I felt for a man who should be nothing more than a stranger, and brought my face close to his.

“I’m sorry,” I said one last time.A tear of mine landed on his cheek, and I wiped it away as I pressed my mouth to his.Selfish.I was so selfish—wanting this man even when everything I did was driving him away.

I wouldn’t drag Rhys into this—into my past. He wasn’t the only one fighting for justice, and like him, I would do whatever it took to get it.Including sacrificing everything I could’ve had with him.

I tore my lips from his and stood, the pain in my side nauseating.Focus, Merritt. What do you need?

Flash drive.I yanked it from the computer.First aid.I stepped over Rhys’s unconscious body and gave myself twominutes to find what I needed—a first aid kit, a sewing kit, and a lighter.

Les was meticulous with his organization; his housekeeper commented once how everything had its own particular spot when I’d asked her for a needle and thread to fix a button that had popped off my sweater. It was why his home office here was a mirror image of the same room at his house in the city. And that was how I knew I’d find the same supplies in the bathroom cabinet here.

I lifted my bloody shirt, swaying when I saw the gash in my side.Dios mío,that was bad. Gritting my teeth, I taped a wad of gauze over the gaping hole—a temporary fix until I got out of here.

Last, I grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen and dumped six pills into my palm. I slammed them into my mouth, flipped on the sink, and drank from the faucet to swallow them.

Find Jupiter.Miguel Ramos.

I didn’t go back into the office again. I couldn’t. Too much of me wanted to wait beside Rhys until he woke up and beg for his forgiveness. To tell him the truth and hope I could trust him. To put my life in his hands and pretend like my heart wasn’t at risk, too. But I couldn’t. How could I trust him with the truth when I didn’t even know the truth myself?

So, I left the way I came, snaking up the driveway until I reached the car I’d stolen. I didn’t have time or resources for complicated plans. I’d swap it for a different car at the next gas station. When I reached the city, I’d find a bathroom and stitch myself up. And then I’d head for the address in Jupiter’s file:an apartment in San Francisco.

And hopefully, after leaving me in Rhys’s possession, Mercury would never even consider that I’d escape him, too—and that I’d be coming for them.

Chapter Eleven

Rhys

“Fuck,” I groaned, forcing my eyes open.The ceiling swam above me for a second, the ripples stilling into focus as I lifted my hand to my forehead, wincing as soon as I touched the knot forming on the side of my scalp, blood peeling from the broken skin.“Fuck.”

I was alone. The chill of solitude—of abandonment—latched to my skin like a leech, sucking the warmth from my blood and replacing it with rage.She was gone.I reached for my weapon out of instinct, only to find it missing.And she’d taken my gun, too.

“Christ,” I muttered, my fist balling at my side.

This time, it wasn’t a groan, it was a shot of pure bitterness fired from my lips as I remembered those final moments when I’d reached Wheaton’s study—when I saw Merritt fighting.Her strength and skill would’ve been admirable if it hadn’t been a bullet to the façade I’d wanted to believe.No fucking Spanish teacher I’d ever met knew how to fight like that.Hell, I’d metcops who hardly knew how to fight like she did.And that only meant one thing…

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