by Jen Davis
Tre rubbed his hands together, the dried blood flaking off onto the ground. “Guess it would be too much to walk through the bar like this.”
“Now you’re thinking.” Sick, sick fucker. “I’ll take you home to clean up before we report back in. You can take the lead, make sure you get the credit for the job.”
Tre rode in the bed, as he had with the body. Brick sprayed it down and treated it with bleach, while Tre showered inside his apartment. It was almost eleven o’clock by the time they gave their report to Sucre, and he could finally head home.
His security sweep showed no one had been inside. He wanted to fall into bed, but traces of blood dotted his skin, and even though exhaustion dragged him down, the reminder of the night’s brutality would keep him awake.
He thought of Liv in the shower. He needed to be with her, to take a break from all this shit, even for one fucking day. How he felt about her was the only thing tethering him to his humanity these days. He needed a getaway—even a temporary one—and he needed it with her.
Rust-colored water circled the drain as he scrubbed off the reminders of what had happened at Lorenzo’s apartment. He’d seen some brutal shit in his life, but what he’d witnessed tonight left him more convinced than ever Tre was a deeply disturbed motherfucker.
And he would die before he let the sick bastard put one finger on his girl.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Liv
The smell of freshly cut grass mingled with the thicker scents of motor oil and exhaust, and Liv held back a sneeze. The bright sun, the loud rumble of the engines filling her ears…everything about the race track assaulted her senses.
She surveyed the open space. Busy, huge, and raucous, Carol would have absolutely loved it.
Jonathan stepped up beside her, his deep voice drowning out the noise. “I’ve got our helmets. They also sell something called head socks. I grabbed those too.” He held a bright blue racing helmet in each hand, the fabric from his additional purchase stuck inside.
She accepted the headgear he offered, then threaded the fingers of her free hand with his. “You know where we’re going?”
His palm radiated warmth; his fingers, strong against hers. Tugging her gently, he led her to the starting line. About a half-dozen other racers already waited to begin. She swallowed against the rising butterflies in her stomach and climbed into her go-kart. They’d chosen the single-seaters, though a few people sat in karts for two.
He settled into the kart in front of her, then slid the fabric covering over his head, followed by his helmet. Lifting his arm in the air, he shot her a thumbs-up.
The heat beat against her as she donned her own headgear. The backs of her legs stuck to the seat. But she had no time to give much thought to any discomfort, because suddenly, Jonathan’s kart moved, and the guy who worked there beckoned her forward and through the aisle created by a plastic guardrail on one side and a wall of tires on the other.
Then she was moving. She couldn’t tell how fast she sped along the course, but she put her foot down hard on the pedal. The kart responded like a dream, zooming forward, beside Jonathan.
His head turned slightly, taking her in, then he gunned ahead of her, and tried to hug the inside of the track as he took a curve. It didn’t quite work. His kart skidded to the very edge, but somehow, he stayed on the pavement.
She eased off the accelerator long enough to take the turn, then darted back in front. Her heart raced, her grin so wide, her cheeks hurt. She wished she could feel the wind in her hair. The exhilaration pumped through her like a drug.
She finished a hair’s breadth ahead of Jonathan, the ten minutes on the track passing more like ten seconds. He lifted his visor, revealing the laughter in his eyes. “Rematch,” he growled, as they got into position again.
He beat her the second race. She won again in the third.
Why had she never done this before?
His face was flushed when he pulled his helmet off, then reached out his hand to help her out. “Holy shit. That rocked.”
The cool air against her damp skin when she removed the helmet was the only reminder of how hot she’d been. She could smile forever. Once clear of the track, she threw herself against him in a tackle hug. “I loved it.”
She felt more than heard his laughter as he indulged the embrace for a few seconds. “C’mon.” He pulled back and retook her hand. “I’m starving.”
Me too. I could eat you alive. Adrenaline fueled her jacked-up libido. Now, she wanted to climb him like a tree.
Two teenage boys streaked past them, howling like a pair of monkeys.
Okay, obviously this wasn’t the place. She followed his lead back to the truck, forcing herself to calm her breathing and take in their tree-lined surroundings.
A sub taught her fourth-period students at school right now. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d played hooky from work. Sure, she’d missed some days last year when she’d been sick, but she never blew off her classes.
When Jonathan called her last night, though, there was something in his voice she couldn’t refuse. Besides, she didn’t want to say no. He’d promised her a real date, a day with only the two of them—no distractions. A day out of time. And she knew exactly what she wanted to do.
He held open the door for her to climb in when they reached his truck, then he walked around the front before settling in behind the wheel.
“Not bad for a first date.” The corners of his lips tugged up at the word date. “No girl’s ever asked me to take her to Motorsports Park before.”
“Not what you expected, huh? You don’t mind, do you?” She searched for a sign he might be disappointed, but his expression gave no hint of displeasure.
If anything, his eyes twinkled. “Do I look like I mind, sweetheart?” He winked, and her worry melted away. “You like ribs?”
“Wha—? Uh, yeah. I like ribs.”
He nodded toward the sign for a barbeque place, and within minutes, they had their orders wrapped up and back with them on the road. Though she did like ribs, she opted for the BLT. Easier to eat in the car.
Jonathan must’ve been on the same wavelength because he got a burger on Texas toast. He ate it in four man-sized bites while he drove one-handed. Though not as fast as him, she polished off her sandwich in minutes. It had the perfect amount of mayo, enough to moisten the bread without making a sloppy mess. They’d just finished their shared order of fries when they completed their fifteen-minute journey up Highway 183.
Amicalola Falls boasted majestic views, hiking trails, and the state’s highest waterfall. It was too hot for a hike, but they got a parking spot near enough to the top they only had a short walk to view the falls.
It took her breath away. The water trickled over the rocks going down, down, down. Trees lined either side, their foliage thick and green. People loitered along the wooden walkways, taking videos and selfies, but as Jonathan wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, they all disappeared.
He kissed the side of her neck and goosebumps prickled her skin. She turned toward him, her lips seeking his. His mouth brushed hers, feather-light.
“Don’t tease me.” She grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him closer, only for a second kiss as chaste as the first. “Please, Jonathan.”
He pulled her away from the falls onto an almost-deserted trail, and this time when he kissed her, she got everything she wanted. Heat. Passion. Ownership. His tongue swept into her mouth and tangled with hers. God, how she wanted this man. All too soon, he pulled away and tucked a strand of her loose hair behind her ear. She liked him growing more comfortable with touching her.
“You don’t have to call me that, you know.”
She traced her fingers over her lips, still feeling the tingles left by his kiss. “Hmm?”
“You can call me Brick. Everyone does.”
“Do you want me to call you Brick?” she asked carefully.
He shook his head slowly.
“Good. I don�
�t want to call you that either. It’s not how I think of you. You’re Jonathan. In here.” She tapped her head, then slid down her hand down to rub her chest. “And here.”
Covering her hand with his own, he grasped her fingers and slowly pulled them toward his mouth. His breath fanned hot over her skin as he kissed her palm.
Something tightened low in her stomach. Her lips parted.
And a passel of kids came tearing down the path, one screaming he was about to make the other “it.” The boy leading the charge ran so close to Liv, she had to sidestep quickly in order to avoid being run over.
Effective as a bucket of ice water in killing the moment. Kids must be united in some kind of cock-blocking mission today.
She growled at the intrusion, but it only made Jonathan chuckle. Raising her eyebrows, she cocked her head to the side.
He rubbed his big hand across his forehead. “If they would have come through five minutes later, we might have traumatized them for life.”
“Fine by me,” she muttered, but she didn’t mean it. She had no desire to put on a show for a group of eight-year-olds.
Jonathan tugged her toward the truck. “Now you’ve gotten me all hot and bothered, let’s cool off in the a/c.”
The truck may have looked old, but thankfully, the air conditioner worked fine. She stuck her face right in front of the vent.
“Why go-kart racing?” He shifted in his seat. “Don’t get me wrong. I had a great time. Was it another one of the places you went with your dad?”
The cool air, which felt like a relief a moment earlier, now felt icy cold. She leaned back and looked out the window. “No.” She exhaled. “It was kind of a promise to a friend.”
He waited for her to continue.
Damn. I guess we’re going to do this now.
“I told you about the cancer.” He nodded. “I met my best friend in treatment. You met her once at Moe’s. Her name is—was—her name was Carol. She died.”
The air turned warm again. Or she was warm, but the air was cold. Fuck. This sucked. “Anyway, when we finished our chemo, we made a list of all the things we wanted to do.”
“A bucket list,” he acknowledged.
“Yeah. I thought she was better, like I was, but it was a lie. She knew she was dying.” She could hear the bitterness in her voice. She shook her head, trying to find her center. “We called it the Dare to Dream list. The first thing on it was cliff diving.”
His fingers latched around her knee. “Please tell me you’re not jumping off a cliff.”
The nerves in his voice pushed away her melancholy. “Too late. We did it before I met you.”
“You jumped off a cliff?” It came out strangled.
“Out of a plane too. It felt like flying. Words can’t describe it.” She chuckled at his expression and patted his arm. “Don’t get me wrong. I was terrified.”
“Then why did you do it?”
She thought about his question. The answer was one she was only now coming to understand, herself. “I thought that was what it meant to really live. Do crazy shit. Or maybe just do things because I never would have done them before I got sick.”
“Like jump out of a plane.”
“Jump out of a plane. Show up at a student’s house.” She shuddered. Hesitated. “Fall for a different kind of guy.”
She stole a peek of Jonathan from the corner of her eye. He looked gobsmacked.
“And riding go-karts was on your list?” he asked slowly, ignoring the more obvious question.
“Not exactly.” She turned to face him fully. “After what happened the other night, I realized living doesn’t have to mean jumping blindly into crazy shit. It means figuring out what I want, then going after it, because it’s right for me.
“The next thing on the list was driving a race car. But I don’t need to go two hundred miles an hour, or whatever it is they go. I don’t need to risk my life to feel alive.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Please don’t.”
“The go-karts felt like a way to honor the spirit of the list. And even if you didn’t know why, I guess I wanted to share the experience with you.”
“Thank you.” He blinked. “What else is on the list?”
“Bungee jumping.”
He shook his head deliberately. “Uh-uh. What else?”
“Scuba diving?” He gave her the side eye. “Though I thought maybe I could change it to snorkeling. And don’t worry, I’m not bungee jumping. The sky-diving was close enough.”
“Anything else?”
“One I really liked was ‘change someone’s life.’ I thought I could do it with Devon. I really wanted to.” She licked her lips. “The last one was to fall in love. Carol added it at the end. A little surprise for me after she died.”
“The last one might be the most dangerous, you know.”
“And probably the one most worth the risk.”
The tips of his ears turned red, and for a moment, silence reigned. His gaze flicked to the steering wheel, down to his lap, and over to a bag from the BBQ place on the floor. The corner of his mouth quirked. “I don’t suppose there’s anything on the list about indulging in something sinful every now and again.”
He lifted the bag and pulled out the container left inside. “I ordered it while you stepped into the ladies’ room. Pecan pie for two.”
The second he opened the carton, she could smell the irresistible blend of decadence and vanilla. “Oh my God, yes.” Snatching the bag, she rifled for the forks inside and made quick work of the plastic covering on hers. The rich flavors exploded on her tongue.
Jonathan paused with his bite halfway up to his mouth.
“What?” she mumbled, covering her mouth with a napkin.
“No. Don’t stop. Watching you eat your pie gave me an idea of what your face must look like when—” His cheeks colored, and he turned his attention to his own food.
She laughed. “You mean what I look like when I come.” Her voice was husky.
His blush grew even darker. “You, um, seemed like you were really enjoying it.”
The poor guy was obviously embarrassed, so she threw him a bone. “Best pecan pie I’ve ever eaten. Could have something to do with the fact we worked up such an appetite together.” She shook her head at her own double entendre. “Sorry, guess we’ve both got sex on the brain.”
“It’s hard not to.”
“Heh. Hard, huh? Well, maybe we should head to a bar and order a stiff drink.”
He caught on. “I like it. I could go for something wet right about now.”
“Maybe Sex on the Beach? Or we could do shots. I always did love sucking back a creamy Blow Job.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I give up. Unless you want me to embarrass us both by having you right here in the parking lot, I suggest you accept your victory and allow me to keep some dignity.”
She speared another forkful, then held it up to her mouth. “Where’s the fun there?”
He grabbed her hand and wrapped his lips around her fork. His tongue peeked out in the process, raising the hair on the back of her arms. “Someday soon I’m going to find out what you taste like, Livie-mine.” His voice came out so deep and gravelly, he barely sounded like himself.
She thrilled at the possessive nickname he used when she turned him on. “How long are we going to keep teasing each other?” she whispered. Dozens of people milled around the cars outside, but it was getting harder to remember they were in public.
A text chimed on his phone before he could answer. He grimaced as he checked the screen. “All good things must come to an end.” Dropping his fork in the bag they used for trash, he signaled dessert was over.
It had to be his boss calling.
She drooped as she swallowed one more bite. There was still a little pie left, but she’d lost her appetite. Of course, she knew this day couldn’t last forever, but it didn’t make it any better when reality reared its ugly head. Neither of them spoke as she shoved the re
mainder of the food into the bag and buckled her seatbelt.
They drove for a while in silence. After about ten minutes, he turned on the radio, the volume barely loud enough to hear. Scott Weiland crooned about being half the man he used to be.
She leaned back on the seat and closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of the sun through the window. Stone Temple Pilots gave way to Staind, and she hummed along.
And Jonathan’s low baritone joined in with Aaron Lewis.
She blinked.
His voice was beautiful, though he kept it low, and his focus stayed planted firmly on the road in front of him the entire time he sang. She held her breath, staring, mesmerized by him. She’d grown up on car-karaoke, but she’d bet a week’s pay it wasn’t something Jonathan usually did in front of anyone.
Warmed, she unbuckled, slid to the center of the bench, and snuggled into his side. His arm came down around her shoulder. “We’re going to figure this out. I’m not going to let you go.”
Pressed against his body, she barely noticed as they drove into her apartment complex. Jonathan insisted on walking her inside.
She’d barely opened the door when she came face to face with Izzy. “What are you doing here?” It came out an octave or two too high. No one was supposed to be in her apartment, and seeing someone—even her sister—shook her more than she cared to admit.
“Just picking up the boots you stole from me to bring on my trip.” Iz held up the footwear in question.
She wrinkled her nose, her heart rate returning to normal. “I didn’t steal them. I borrowed them.”
Iz shoved them into the duffel bag hanging from her shoulder.
“Hey, before you go, I want to officially introduce you to someone.” She tilted her head from her sister to the quiet man beside her. “This is my sister, Isobel. Iz, this is Jonathan.” His eyes widened at the use of his given name. It looked like it would take some getting used to.
Izzy didn’t hesitate. Her sister reached out and grasped his hand in a firm handshake, then gave her a chastening look. “I did see him at the gym, you know.”