Page 13 of Now or Never
Kenna gave back as good as she got, pouring all the desire she felt into that steamy car kiss. Leaving them both breathless. They were in this with the same commitment, a hundred percent on board.
For each other and for their child.
“I have an idea,” she said.
Jax lifted one brow.
“Hold that thought for later. This is about our case.” She ignored the amusing disappointed look on his face.
He kissed her again. “This case is connected toDominatus. So by working it with you, I’m working on my goal of figuring out how to take them down and your goal of ignoring their existence.”
“I’ve been trying not to think about what that medical examiner said.” Kenna winced. “They wanted the murder covered up.”
“Means we need to solve it.”
“I would’ve done that anyway, regardless of whether they’re involved.”
“I know.” He squeezed her knee. “What’s your idea?”
Chapter Six
“We’re looking for a house in the area and we want to know what the neighborhood is like,” Kenna told Jax, keeping her voice low as they approached the front door.
He knocked, and she shifted beside him—noting he did the same—probably also trying not to stand on the doorstep like a cop. Like two cops, one of them pregnant.
She unzipped her jacket and tucked her shirt tighter around her abdomen. Where a moment ago it would’ve draped and hidden her six-months-pregnant rounded belly that wasn’t all that big anyway, now it was on display.
“Good idea,” he whispered.
She tucked her hands in her maternity jeans pockets, also emphasizing the bump under her shirt. Over in the front window, the blinds shifted. Someone looked out to see who was on the doorstep. She knocked again, a jaunty rhythm she tried to make sound light.
When the door opened, Kenna was smiling at Jax. It was the first thing whoever answered saw, and she trusted Jax to protect her if it came to that. She would take the lead from his hold on her hand, because he would alert her if she needed to move. Ifhis fingers tightened suddenly, or he spun her around, there was danger.
She looked over her shoulder, already smiling. A pang of recognition hit her, as in that instant she knew what kind of situation this young woman lived in. But she had learned a long time ago not to let how she was feeling on the inside show in her expression.
“Hi, sorry.” Kenna turned from her husband to the slender woman in the doorway. “Sorry to disturb you.”
Megan Tiller. Seventeen when Samantha Ambrose was killed six years ago, missing that length of time despite her parents’ meager attempts to find her. Or the police, who had deemed her as a runaway who’d taken off with her boyfriend. Escaping home, looking for something else.
Jax eased an arm around her waist. “We’re thinking about moving into the area.”
“Gotta get out of our apartment before the baby comes.” Kenna put both hands over the baby. “You know how it is. Maybe you don’t—I don’t know you. But we did a viewing over at a house down the street.”
The young woman looked a little shellshocked. Exhausted, which wasn’t unprecedented with a young child. Behind her, the hall remained dark.
“What’s this neighborhood like—if you don’t mind us asking?”
Megan hesitated. Her hair could use product and styling, but it was clean. Could be she simply didn’t have the money for those things. She wore clothes that were probably purchased from a secondhand store or which she’d kept for a long time. Indications a person was on a strict budget were often simply that. Nothing more.
And sometimes they were a sign of the kind of situation Kenna believed this was.
Megan Tiller had dropped off the map. She lived in a house that was still owned by the boyfriend she’d had years ago, the one who died months later in Afghanistan. Someone kept up the payments, and no one had ever told the mortgage company that he’d died. Kenna couldn’t figure how that’d been allowed to continue. Unless you wereDominatusand you wanted this woman to remain here, no questions asked.
Megan held the door with one hand and sucked in a choppy breath. “It’s a nice enough neighborhood. Quiet.” She shrugged one shoulder, and the sweater slipped a bit. Kenna caught the edge of a purple mark on her neck.
Jax rubbed a hand over Kenna’s hip. “What about local schools?” He motioned to a hook just inside the door, where the kid had hung his backpack.
Megan looked at it and practically flinched. “Fine, I guess. It’s school.”
