Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
He clicks a few buttons on the computer, bringing up a photograph of Marcus’s burned house. He proceeds to tell me that while investigating, they found bones buried underneath the house. But the thing is, these bones don’t appear to be old. That means this investigation just got deeper than intended.
I’m hoping I covered Maven’s and my tracks well enough. I’m pretty sure I did, though, considering I know exactly what a detective looks for. But you can never be too certain in cases like this, because not only was Marcus a powerful man, but it seems he held skeletons in his closet that he wasn’t telling anyone about. Least of all the Forsaken.
Rolland is called away, and I sit at my desk and send Maven a message to let her know I left. Then I call Soren. He picks up after only one ring, and I can hear Cressida’s son in the background.
“Boston, I’ve been trying to reach you. Why did you wait so long to get back to me?”
“I was busy,” I tell him. “My wife moved in.”
“And how are things going with Maven?”
“Yes. It’s going well.”
“Good. You needed to be married to set a positive example for everyone since we’ve had so many think they can do as they please.”
I lean back in my chair. “Is this not a good time to talk?”
“Talk, but make it fast. I’ll call you back later with what I want to discuss with you.”
“The investigation into Marcus’s murder has brought some unexpected issues to light. I expect the information will be hitting every news outlet soon.”
“What did they find?” he asks.
“Bodies.”
“Fuck!” he shouts.
“Bad word. Swear jar,” Cressida’s son says to him.
He must place his hand over the phone, because his next words are muffled, and I know he’s not talking to me. I wait a few minutes before his voice comes back through clearly.
“I knew he was up to no good. That piece of fucking shit,” he growls. “Get a handle on it if you can. Tell me the second you find out whose bones they are.”
“Will do.”
He hangs up, and I bring up the feed to my home security cameras.
The camera at my front door shows Victor standing there speaking with a sleepy-looking Maven. She eventually lets him in, but a short time after, she leaves.
I press call on her contact. “Yes, Detective?” she purrs from the other end.
“Where are you?”
“Having a milkshake.”
“I wonder how eager you’d be to suck my cock if I dipped it in a milkshake.”
She starts to choke, and I can hear someone ask if she’s okay. Once she can speak again, she says, “I’m already eager. No need to add milk to the mix.” She pauses, then tells me, “Victor is at your house.”
“Our house,” I remind her. “Your shoes are currently being delivered. Do you want me to instruct the movers to put them up or would you prefer to do it?”
“They can do it. I hate unpacking,” she says.
“I’ll have them do it all, then. And, Dynamite?”
“Yes?”
“Be a good girl today, and try not to kill anyone.”
“I can’t promise that,” she says, and I can’t help the smile that pulls on my lips at her response.
My sweet, crazy little assassin.
THIRTY-FIVE
MAVEN
Believe it or not, I choose to go to his place instead of mine. And when I step through the front door, I see boxes of my things stacked in the entryway. I make a beeline for my shoe room, and I sigh when I see all my heels lining the shelves in perfect precision.
“Do you like it?” I jump at the sound of a voice coming from behind me. When I turn, Boston is standing there, dressed as if he just finished work. His gun is still holstered at his hip, and his badge is attached to his belt.
“I do. It’s even prettier than I imagined.”
“And there’s still room for more,” he says, casually leaning against the wall. I eat up the sight of him.
“Did you bring me a strawberry milkshake so I can dip your cock in it and taste it?” Someone coughs from just outside the door, and I peer out to see Victor walking away. “Sorry, Victor!” I call out after him.
He waves his hand without looking back.
“I didn’t, but I can arrange one for later. I have to go out again. Will you be okay?”
I arch a brow. “I’ve lived most of my life by myself. I’m sure one night without my husband won’t kill me.” I laugh.
Boston leans down, and his lips land on mine, stealing my breath away. His tongue pushes into my mouth, and I open to give him access. His arm slides around my waist, pulling me closer.
I break the kiss, panting for breath. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?” I tease, waggling both of my brows. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”