Page 76 of Life

He grins. “The San Francisco PD were able to score some security footage off a camera on Kat’s building and a bank across the street. Between the two of them, it’s not only clear it’s Antonio, but it also shows the entire attack. He watched from around the building for you two to leave. Once he could ascertain you were walking alone, he made his move. Only Jack prevented it.”

“So did you see him get shot?” I ask with glee.

“Yep. Though it’s a surface wound. A couple of units found the slug down the block wedged into the side of a trash can. Since they didn’t see it right away, they thought he might have the bullet still in him, but the footage clearly shows he was grazed by the bullet.”

“Damnit!”

“Yeah, but this is good, babe. However, there’s bad news, too.”

“Which is?”

He sits across from me at the table and grabs my hands.

Not good. Sitting in front of me, close to me. All bad signs.

“Police went to his known residence. Place was cleaned out. There’s nothing left.”

“And his job? Parole officer?”

He shakes his head and frowns. “Parole officer hasn’t seen him in two weeks. And his boss said he hasn’t shown up for work the last few days.”

“Just as I thought. He’s in the wind.”

Eli curls his fingers around my waist and lifts me up, turns himself around, and puts me back into his lap, facing him.

“We’ll get him. It’s only a matter of time.”

I close my eyes and lean my forehead against his. “It’s already been a couple months. I can’t keep doing this. Living in fear. Not able to go home.”

Eli tightens his hands around my waist and then curves them down and under my butt where he grabs copious handfuls of cheek. “Spicy, you’re never going home.”

I cringe and jerk my head back. My shoulder smarts, and I wince in pain. “What? Why?”

“Babe, you’re already home. This is where your home is now. Not some cold fucking apartment.”

“Eli, this is not my home.” I speak softly, trying to be sensitive.

“Babe.” He says it as if the single word answers any questions I may have.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me! I don’t live here. I’m just staying here.”

“Babe, you do live here.”

I literally growl like an animal and bare my teeth.

“Are all the clothes you own hanging in my closet, put away in my drawers?” he continues, unconcerned with my obvious agitation.

His statement hits me like golf club to thecabeza. “Si, but that’s because you said you didn’t want them in suitcases on the floor.”

He nods. “Exactly. And is all your girlie shit on the vanity? Your smelly, expensive shampoo and conditioner in my shower?” He wraps a hand around my ponytail and tugs my neck back where he inhales and rubs his nose along the skin.

A river of shivers washes down my spine and settles between my thighs. “Si.”

He places hot, openmouthed kisses all over my neck before shoving down the top of my tank top and unclasping the front of my bra so my breasts spill out, hiked up to maximum viewing with my shirt rolled up underneath their powerful weight.

Eli cups both breasts and tweaks both nipples like he’s plucking strings on a guitar. Every tug sends a bolt of desire through me. I moan, enjoying every ounce of his attention.

“Your toothbrush sitting next to mine in the holder, babe?” he asks before wrapping his mouth around one erect tip.

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