Page 94 of Taking

Rogers had already been released from the jail by that time which meant someone else had taken out that bit of trash.

Gideon felt sure his friend Twinkie had gotten revenge for his lover but hadn’t ever gone to visit as agreed upon by both men.

We hadn’t spoken with Leo since that day in the diner. No one had made the connection between Roger’s release, Devon’s conviction for killing Jenny, or Lloyd’s disappearance.

And if they had suspicions, nothing and no one emerged to point at either of us.

Lloyd obviously hadn’t ever returned.

Devon sat behind bars regardless of his claims of innocence, all the evidence gathered from the motel room pointing to one suspect.

Gideon had initially feared Devon would remember a third party being with the two of them that night. His lips thinned and brow furrowed every time we’d discussed the possibility Devon had heard Jenny say his name.

But Devon had claimed complete ignorance of what transpired that night.

He’d fallen asleep on his couch—same as I’d done when drugged by Gideon—and woke the next morning atop Jenny’s corpse.

“I almost killed him that night.”

I jerked my focus off Leo toward Gideon. “What? Who?”

“Leo.” Gideon continued to stare at Leo while I studied his face, my brain trying to process what he’d meant.

“What are you talking about?”

“That night you went out for pizza with him.”

My date…the baby steps…

I’d felt Gideon’s energy while on my date with Leo, but I’d reasoned it away as wishful thinking.

“You were there, weren’t you?”

“Yes.” Still, he peered at the old friend I hadn’t kept in touch with even though Ciarra had.

“What do you mean you almost killed him?”

“I watched him walk you to your car, and I followed, sticking to the shadows. He flirted and touched you. The fucker’s lucky I didn’t slice his neck open like I was tempted to do when he strode past me toward his own car.”

So that explained Gideon’s strange behavior the day we’d met Leo at the diner.

“You’re lucky—and Rogers is lucky you didn’t slice his neck.”

“True.” Gideon glanced down at him, his focus slipping to my lips I’d coated with shimmering gloss. “Let’s get out of here, princess.”

His eyes promised he’d ease the ache between my thighs I’d been dealing with upon seeing him all cleaned up in a suit, something I hadn’t gotten to enjoy since our parents’ wedding day.

Three hours later, I lay exhausted on the hotel’s bed, my body sore, achy, and completely sated.

“You’re a beast,” I muttered with a smile, no heat in my voice.

“And you’re my beauty, princess.”

I snorted. “There’s nothing fairy tale about our story, Gideon Destil.”

“We’re just a couple of kinky, sick fucks—”

“We’re not sick,” I reminded him, having completely come to grips with who and what we were—perfect together.

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