“Yes.” He would’ve found another way out, God willing.
“You’re an idiot.” Her tone was scolding, at odds with the weariness sagging her eyes.
“Repay no one evil for evil. We will overcome evil with good.”
“Ugh. Shut up.” She threw the salad container into the cooler. “I am evil. Destined for hell. What the fuck am I saying? I’m already there.”
“I’m not even going to respond to that.” Her self-perception punched him in the chest, but he wasn’t helping her, either. She needed a solution, not a bible study session. “Contact Traquero and request another meeting.”
“We only get one-time-use numbers. A number for initial contact. And a number to make the delivery. Outside of that, the buyers call Van. Mr. E’s rules. He prides himself on buyer confidentiality.” She leaned back in the seat and stared out the windshield. “Traquero will have a change of heart and call Van again.”
She seemed confident, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. His self-preservation objected to the notion of Traquero making that phone call, but his trust in her was unremitting. If it had come down to leaving him with Traquero, she would’ve pulled the trigger, damning herself to hell.
They passed through San Antonio and Austin, and the conversation circled around ideas that wouldn’t form into a plan. She put holes in every suggestion until there was only one option left. One he couldn’t accept. Premeditated murder was not a solution. Nor would it save her family and return him to his.
As he drove, he evaluated his feelings about resuming his old life. Returning home meant exchanging twelve requirements for a hundred more. Did he really want to go back to their rules? Mom and Dad’s restrictions were morally acceptable but no less confining.
When he exited the interstate at Temple, edginess stretched between them. Her mask fell in place, and her posture gathered into that unnerving stillness.
He pulled off into the same vacant lot she’d used ten hours earlier and climbed into the back. They were no closer to a solution, but they were together, bound by a connection that was deeper and stronger than keypads and shackles. He lowered his head, and the chains went back on.
Chapter 32
The next twenty-four hours tested Josh’s faith in God’s presence in Temple. As Liv sank slowly and deeply inside herself, he questioned if maybe this was hell. Perhaps she was right. God had abandoned him on a threadbare mattress, locked in an attic, with his heart hemorrhaging in his hands.
He’d fed her the meals she’d retrieved from downstairs, showered with her, and tended his swollen knuckles and the small rip on her rectum. But his single-minded outpouring of questions, affection, and worry was a failed attempt in breaking through her steel-plated chest, which grew colder and more rigid with each passing minute.
She curled in a ball on the mattress and clutched her phone. Waiting for the videos that never came. Watching the blank screen as if, at any moment, it would stare back with lifeless eyes.
If Mr. E intended to kill her Mom and daughter, he would do it after she delivered Kate. Van had left Temple before they’d returned early that morning. Mr. E needed her and wouldn’t risk her dissent. Josh knew she knew that.
He dropped the tennis ball he’d been throwing for the past hour and stood over her, hands on the waistband of his jeans. “What time is it?”
Her thumb tapped on the phone’s screen. “11:48 PM.”
Only fifteen minutes had passed since the last time he’d asked. He was out of excuses to coax her out of the attic. Kate was free to roam the outer room, and Liv had brought up enough food to hold the three of them over until the delivery tomorrow.
He knew Liv intended to kill Kate’s buyer. Every time he counseled her against this decision, he was met with a litany of colorful words. Liv seemed completely unconcerned about her own safety.
Numerous times, he’d considered calling his parents to let them know he was okay. He would’ve had to trick her into unlocking her phone, but that wasn’t what quashed the idea. He didn’t know the outcome of their situation until she delivered Kate. Giving his parents false hope would be cruel.
“No more waiting.” He perched on the edge of the mattress. “We need to leave. Escape with Kate.”
“No.” Her answer was cold, final. She turned away and stared at her phone.
It hadn’t passed his notice that she was the only one going downstairs for food. With Van gone, there was no need for pretense. Beneath that icy mask, she still believed he would leave her.
He drew in a breath and matched her chilly tone. “If you haven’t heard from Mr. E before the delivery, then what?” She’d said Van would send her the address for the delivery when he received it. “Are you still going to deliver that girl?”
Her body turned to stone, her voice grinding. “I’m going to do what I have to do.”
He rubbed his temples. He couldn’t ask her to choose whose lives to protect. It was an impossible decision. One that would make the strongest person lose her bearing.
Laying on her side with her back to him, she folded in on herself, arms and bedding wrapped around her belly. She needed someone to hold her on the shore of decision, to cradle her fears, to contemplate what was best for her.
He leaned in and touched her bare shoulder with his fingertips, with his lips. “If you need a place to go, Liv, I’m right here.”
A shiver twitched down her arm. Her hair swept over the pillow in ripples of mahogany. The naked curve of her spine disappeared beneath the sheet that bunched at her waist. He was conscious of her lack of clothing under there, and while her nudity was no longer a mystery, it was no less alluring. Even in her misery, he wanted her, in every way possible.
He trailed a knuckle along the dip of her waist, over the rise of her hip, taking the bedding with it. He expected her to jerk away as she’d done all day, so he decided to surprise her. He yanked the sheets to the floor, exposing her slim lines and milky skin, stripping her bare.
She rolled to her back, her lips parting in disbelief, her phone seemingly forgotten at the edge of the mattress. What a gorgeous opportunity. He pinned her chest with his and captured her mouth before she could close it, swiping his tongue, finding hers on the second pass, warm, wet, and so damned promising.
She arched into him, the heated satin of her flesh molding to his hands as he caressed her backside. He was instantly hard, his balls tightening with an achy need. He palmed her breasts, his thumbs rolling over her nipples, his tongue licking and stroking the sensual reaches of her mouth.
The most private part of her body ground against his, her calves hooked around the back of his thighs, her fingers clutching his biceps. As their mouths moved together in synchronized surrender, he wished he’d had the foresight to remove his jeans. He wanted to feel her against his skin. He wanted in her.
Her hands twisted through his hair and tugged, breaking the kiss. Her lashes lifted, carrying her gaze from his mouth to his eyes, and held him, heart and breath, in eternal suspension.
She licked her bottom lip, and he felt it pulse through his erection. She blinked and something shifted over her expression. Angling her chin to the side, the hands in his hair pulled his face to her chest, and her thighs tightened around his waist. “Please don’t give yourself to me.”
He broke the crush of her embrace and gripped her face with two hands, forcing her to look at him. “I already have. This—” he rocked his groin against hers “—is part of the deal.”
Her eyelids shuttered closed, and a breath spasmed through her chest, her lips in a flat line of rejection.
His hands fisted in the pillow. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, force her, beg her, or otherwise guilt her into it. He lowered his forehead to her shoulder, inhaling the clean scent of her skin, savoring the intimacy of her body against his.