Page 115 of ILY
A second later, I can hear the screech of the hinges whining as he pulls it open, and my breath stutters in my chest.
Then I catch a whiff of old paper and something else. Something…metallic? It’s definitely not a body, though I don’t know what old bones are supposed to smell like. But Thorne isn’t freaking out, so…
“Holy shit, Leaf. Open your eyes.” His voice is trembling but with excitement, not fear.
I let them flutter open, and I stand there agape. In front of me is money. Loads of it. More cash than I found under the mattress. And if I’m not mistaken, those are gold bars sitting next to the bills.
It takes me a full forty-five seconds to get my tongue unstuck from the roof of my mouth. “Holy shit. Is that…?”
“Yeah,” Thorne says, his voice breathy. “Money. And I’m not an expert, but I’m pretty sure this is gold.”
I can feel my heart beating in my throat. “How much is in there?”
Thorne gives a soft laugh. “I have no idea. I’d have to count. But holy fuck.”
“Where did she get literal gold bars?” I ask, bending down and picking one up. God, is this…is this blood money? Money she stole from victims? I look up at Thorne, feeling dread creeping through my gut. “Do I have to turn this in? Like evidence?”
His brows dip. “As far as I know, there aren’t any cold cases of gold bars or cash being stolen.”
“Yeah, but…what if she took this from the people she, you know…” My voice drops. “Killed?”
His face softens, and he takes my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm, then to the inside of my wrist. “Those victims are all young, and none of them came from well-off families. I don’t think these two things are related. Hell, this might not even be something she buried. Someone else might have.”
I hesitate, looking down again. The cash and the gold bars have serial numbers, so they’re probably traceable. But Thorne isn’t wrong. It’s not like there’s some local legend of some gold-rush booty gone missing.
“You think I should keep it?”
He meets my gaze and holds it steadily. “Leaf, I say this as a man still technically employed by the FBI. I think you should keep it. Maybe offer some to Rain. After everything you’ve been through? This is a game changer for you.”
My gaze flickers down to his mouth, and it twitches into a half smile. “So I guess I don’t need to sell my dick pics on the dark web.”
“No, you don’t.” He tugs me into him, hard and possessive. “And I wouldn’t have let you do that anyway.”
I lunge toward him, the two of us falling into the dirt, the chest rattling next to us.
“I’m rich.” I grin down at him as I pin him on his back and brace myself over his chest. “I have gold bars! I’m going to melt them down and use them to make a toilet!”
Thorne chuckles and rolls me onto my back. His body hovers over mine. “You’ll do no such thing. We’ll make a reasonable plan. Liquidate the gold, put the money into sensible stocks, and use the rest of it to fix this place up and make it a home. For us.”
Forus. My entire body feels like it’s glowing from the inside out.
“Maybe a tiny toilet?” I ask, and he leans down and kisses me.
“Maybe we can make a small gold groundhog statue for Michael.”
I think on that. It’s not a bad idea, actually. “Why not? I mean, he did solve a murder and fix all my money problems. He must be the corrupted offspring of an angel and a demon or something.”
Thorne kisses my nose. “I guess Michael isn’t so bad after all.”
I sigh and run my fingers through Thorne’s hair. “He also brought me you, so I really can’t complain.”
“That’s right. No more complaining,” Thorne replies, and our heads turn back to the chest of money, and something flits through me. “Only kisses. And love.”
“And orgasms,” I tell him.
He laughs and yanks me tightly against his body, where I can feel his erection pressing into my thigh. Our lips meet again, and my eyes close. There’s a feeling in my chest I can’t entirely describe in words, but I know it. It’s starting to replace the empty loneliness of the past decade. It’s a feeling of being full and satisfied and…
Content, I realize. And happy.
