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CONTENTS

Summary Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Epilogue

Also by Ella Goode Connect with me!

SUMMARY

I think there are two ways to look at my husband Lucas.

Some find him scary. He’s big, broad, and works with the dead, but, to me, he’s the man I fell in love with the first time I saw him. He’s the man who makes me dinner, rubs my feet, and makes love to me until the sun washes away the stars.

I know there’s a side of him that he keeps from me. Another woman might be suspicious that he always comes home freshly showered or that he takes frequent business trips out of town. Yet, I trust him because he’d never betray me. His entire purpose is to protect me. Deep down, I know what he’s doing. Deep down, I know that he’s maintaining the balance between good and bad. Other people might not agree with his actions, but for me, our love will always be killer.

PROLOGUE

“P LEASE LET ME GO . I DIDN ’ T DO ANYTHING WRONG . I SAW — NO I heard something. Like a scream—.”

“And you went to investigate it,” I finish for the man lying on the plastic sheeting. His hands are tied behind his back with his own cotton socks serving as a barrier to prevent chafing. The restraints are only a precaution. As always, the drug I administered renders him largely paralyzed. I’ve done this long enough that I’m getting good with the dosages. When I first started out, I used too little and my prey escaped. I had to run him down and finish him on the spot instead of carrying out my plan. That was a disappointment. After that debacle, I used too much and the two men died. Another disappointment but with time and experimentation, I’ve become familiar with my tools.

“Exactly. Exactly. I came to investigate and there was this woman there.”

“You didn’t know who she was.”

“Right. I didn’t know who she was and I didn’t touch her.

I swear. I swear.” He babbles the last word, spittle spraying out with the first consonants so it sounds more like he’s saying he sweats, which is true. Perspiration slides down his cheeks to mingle with his tears. He’s starting to look like his

victim, but he’s not experiencing enough pain. That won’t happen until the drug wears o , which should be in a few minutes. I shift the stainless steel needle nose pliers to the right so that there is precisely a half inch between my instruments.

“Did you hear me?”

“I did.”

“Then let me go. Please. I’ll do anything. You need money? I’ve got it.”

Not anymore, I think. An hour ago, before I put this man in the back of my van, I drained his accounts. He won’t need the money after I’m done with him.

I pick up the scalpel and crouch down close to him. “Can you feel your toes?”

“M-m-my toes?” he stammers.

“Or your fingertips? Either is fine.”

He nods slowly and then faster. “Yes. I can.”

“Good. I want it to hurt.”

I roll him over and get to work.

CHAPTER ONE LUCAS

“H EY , DOC , IT ’ S A GRISLY ONE ,” O FFICER R OAN INFORMS ME WHEN I reach the makeshift crime scene barrier which consists of yellow tape stretched between a cop car side mirror and the small tree that looks like it will break with the slightest resistance. For funsies, I pull on the tape. O cer Roan leaps forward. “Ah, sir, please the tape isn’t”—the yellow barrier pulls away from the mirror and floats to the ground —“secure,” he finishes. A faint hint of vomit wafts toward me. The kid must’ve gotten sick. I pat him on the back before stepping over the yellow marker on the ground and proceed to join the two detectives kneeling on the ground. Between them is a collection of half-eaten body parts—mostly fingers and toes.

“Doesn’t look like you need me here,” I remark. It’s obvious the body has been dead for a few days. “Your victim is indeed deceased.”

“Ha ha,” Detective Lee fake laughs. “We still need to know time and method of death.”

“10:00 o’clock pm on Saturday and shock.”

“It’s creepy how close you guess these,” Detective Sanchez says as she peels o her gloves and gets to her feet.

“Years of experience,” I drawl.

“I guess. It’s still creepy. No o ense.”

“None taken. Have you had the crime scene photographer take the pictures?”

“Yeah.” She rolls her head around her shoulders. “It’s all done. Nothing’s been moved so if you want to take some of your own, feel free.”

I take the photos I need, cataloging the body parts. The wild animals have done a number on them. It would be hard to precisely ascertain what damage was done by the perpetrator and what wounds Mother Nature inflicted.

“Whoever did this is one sick bastard,” Lee notes. The cracking of his gum is accented by a few birds chirping.

Animals aren’t disturbed by dead bodies. Only the humans.

“It reminds me of something.” Sanchez taps her chin.

I still and pretend to be focused on a scrap of evidence.

“Like what?” her partner asks.

“Dunno. It’s just bugging me.”

Sanchez is a good detective with the instincts of a bloodhound.

“Let me know if you remember,” I mention casually. “I could look for similarities.”

“Yeah, I will. I’m sure it will come to me.”

“Always does,” Lee says cheerfully.

“I’ll keep the body cold,” I suggest.

“Nah. No sense in waiting for me. Besides, your reports are so detailed that it’s almost like you were there. If there’s any similarity to a previous case, I’m sure you’ll note it. Hey, Lee. Did you buy the chief’s wife a gift?”

“For what?”

“It’s her birthday this weekend.”

“Shit. I can’t remember my birthday, let alone the chief’s wife’s. What are you thinking? I don’t want to spend more than fifty.”

“Fifty? From both of us.”

I leave the two squabbling and return to my car. On my way back to the road, I stop and pull out a box of mints for the young police o cer.

“Thanks,” he says. The tips of his ears are pink.

“Don’t ever be embarrassed that you find death distasteful.”

He seems encouraged. As I’m driving away I can see him joking with Detective Sanchez. It’s always good to keep your humanity.

I press the dial button on my steering wheel. After a couple rings, Angel’s voice fills my car.

“Are we still on for dinner?” she asks.

“I’m on my way. Do you want me to pick you up?”

“No. I got o early so I’m gonna head to the restaurant. I should be there in five minutes. I’ll get the table.”

“All right, darling, I’ll see you soon.”

Like I said, always important to keep a bit of humanity in your life.

CHAPTER TWO ANGEL

I PULL OFF MY GLASSES , PUTTING THEM AWAY IN THE CASE BEFORE rubbing my head. My head hurts. I had no idea when I decided I wanted to be a court reporter how hard some of my days would be. Sitting inside of a courtroom for hours and oftentimes hearing horror stories can take a toll on a person.

I’ve always been fascinated with all aspects of the law. I didn’t have a desire to be a lawyer or a cop so I decided on a career as a court reporter. It allows me to be in the mix of things but not really. I just hadn’t realized that it would be so stressful.

It is even worse when you know a person that should be behind bars is allowed to go free. It’s hard to watch these criminals get away with their crimes knowing there is nothing you can do about it.

I don’t know how Chad does it but the man never loses a case. I have no idea how he can live with himself. I’m guessing he finds comfort sleeping on the pile of money he receives every night. I often think that he’s worse than the men he represents in court. I shouldn’t judge him because

that’s the way our judicial system is set up, but from what I’ve heard, he displays the same tactics outside of the courtroom.

I’m a people watcher by nature. While it may seem as though I’m only recording the words that are going on in court, I’m also taking everything in around me. I’m watching each movement and facial expression. Especially those of the jury.

It’s how I know when a case is going to be dismissed. You learn a lot by watching people. They say people are innocent until proven guilty but in my eyes most of the men Chad represents are guilty whether it’s proven or not.

Today was one of those unbearable days for me. I never do well on the days the jury returns their verdict. I know I’m supposed to be impartial but it’s hard to remain that way. I could tell that this not guilty verdict a ected Judge Barnes too.

I could feel the anger rolling o of her when the jury came back with it. Her hands were tied at this point. I had to type the words down, and each keystroke felt like a slap in the face to the victim. Even as my fingers moved across the keyboard, it felt surreal.

He killed his wife. I know it. I also know that he killed the woman that he was married to before this one. That little fact wasn't allowed to be brought up in court. I have no doubt that he’ll kill his next, too, if he isn’t stopped. When he does commit his next murder, would it make Chad guilty as well because he helped the man get away with this one? It would have never happened if Chad hadn’t represented him.

It is almost like he is acting as the driver of the getaway car.

I scream when a hard knock comes down onto my window. I look over to see Chad standing there in his expensive suit. Not that I am one to judge. I don’t make anything near what he does but my husband is good with

money. I have the luxury of owning the finer things because of it. I reluctantly roll down my window. I avoid Chad as much as I can, but the man is always finding a reason to talk to me.

“Hey.” I force a smile.

“Heading out early?” He gives me that smile that works well on jurors. It only pisses me o . He’d never know that, though. I’ve learned to keep my face as neutral as possible.

“Yeah. Meeting the husband for dinner.” My smile turns into a real one. Anytime I bring up my husband, Chad’s smile always drops away. Judge Barnes—Mary—says he has a thing for me. She, too, cut out early. Neither one of us wasted any time getting out of that courtroom today.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to grab a quick bite.”

“Chad,” I start. Why does he have to make this awkward?

Not only does he know that I’m married by the giant ring that I wear on my finger but he also knows who my husband is. Everyone knows who Lucas is.

The sexy medical examiner that some think is a tad creepy. I get it. Cutting up people and dissecting their bodies is strange but he is doing his job and finding out how people died. He is the best in the state. My husband knows what he is doing. I bet if they’d found Mr. Andrew’s wife, whose body is still missing, my husband would have nailed Mr. Andrews to his permanent new jail cell.

“I want to talk to you about a job.” I jerk back. There go my stellar skills at keeping myself neutral.

“I really have to go. I told my husband I’d meet him in a few minutes. If I’m not there he’ll worry.”

“I still can’t believe you married a man who cuts up bodies for a living.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him what I think of his career choice, but I don’t. It’s not professional. Still, I can’t help but take a small jab.

“I’d keep in mind what my husband does for a living.” I roll up my window, not wanting to hear whatever else he has to say. I know it will kill him that he didn't get the last word.

I shift my car into reverse and pull out of my spot. The only silver lining to today is that I got out earlier than usual.

Lucas always makes me feel better. I know I shouldn’t tell him some of the things that I do about work but I tell him everything anyway.

The man is my rock. He’s been that since he came strolling into the courtroom my first day on the job. I’d hung on his every word as he put a man behind bars that belonged there. To me he isn’t creepy but fascinating. He is the hero of the story. Speaking for the victims when their killers had tried to silence them forever. He is their voice and I love him for it.

Though many might not agree.

CHAPTER THREE LUCAS

T HE DIP IN A NGEL ’ S FOREHEAD IN THAT SWEET SPOT BETWEEN HER brows is deeper than usual, which means something’s bothering her.

“Bad day at work?” I ask after we order--angel hair pasta with shrimp for her and lasagna for me.

“Chad Gilcrest is getting another murderer o . I really hate him. He doesn’t even care about guilt or innocence, just about whether the person he’s defending can pay his ridiculous attorney fee.” She accepts the freshly baked bread that I tore o for her and shoves a piece in her mouth, chewing angrily.

“He’s an asshole,” I agree. While defense lawyers play an important part in the system, there is something o about Chad. I haven’t caught him doing anything wrong other than cheating on his various girlfriends, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a secret in his basement he doesn’t want anyone to see.

“The husband totally did it. I know he did.” She leans forward. “Do you know what he said he was doing at the

time she died?”

“What?” I break o another piece of bread for her and lay it on her plate.

“He said he was walking the dog. He brought out his watch logs and showed how he walked this route along the river that he always takes, every day at dusk.”

Every day at dusk, hmmm? “Did he have a lot of routines?”

She chews on the bread for a moment, thinking back over the evidence. She begins to nod slowly. “Yeah, he kind of did.

He said he always woke up at 5:45 a.m. and would make co ee. He drank one and a half cups and saved the other half for an afternoon break. He got his mail during his afternoon break and would go through it for fifteen minutes. There were some other details about how he always used the same fork and knife. He was creepy. Very creepy. I can’t believe the jury let him o .”

“Sounds very precise.” Like me. I like my socks folded a certain way, a precise amount of starch in my shirt, and my tools to be in exactly the right order, spaced only a half inch apart. How much does that irritate Angel?

She must read my mind because she reaches out to squeeze my forearm. “It’s cute when you do it because you’re not a murderous serial killer like this dude is.”

I take her fingers and lace them with mine. “Serial killer?” If she only knew...which she doesn’t because if she did, my very law-abiding wife would be horrified and never want me to touch her again.

“Yeah. He killed his first wife but the judge couldn’t let that evidence in. Said it was too harmful and didn’t have enough value. I think the jury would’ve voted to convict if they’d known that this was the second wife he’d o ed. And since he’s done away with two of his wives, that makes him a serial killer, don’t you think?”

“Yes. I agree.” I put her fingers to my mouth and place a gentle kiss against them before having to move aside for the newly arrived food.

“If only the body had been found. You would have nailed that guy’s ass.”

“Definitely.”

She lapses into a frustrated silence and stares at her plate.

Usually, I wouldn’t take any action so soon after yesterday’s work but I foresee a business trip in my future. Angel won’t be able to sleep well until it’s resolved. The injustice will eat at her. This is why I do what I do. Someone has to keep the balance. A crime committed needs to be punished or people su er, and in this case, my wife su ers and that’s not acceptable.

I can’t make her happy every moment of the day. I know that’s not possible, but I do see it as my duty to remove as many obstacles in her path as I can. This is one bump that can be taken care of easily.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she announces, picking up her fork. “How was your day?”

“Not worth talking about while we eat.” She’s not squeamish but she doesn’t need the gory details either.

Angel wrinkles her nose adorably. “That bad, huh? I’m sorry I brought up the case.”

“Don’t be. I always want to hear your stories. You have a deposition tomorrow?”

“Yes, but it’s just a boring motor vehicle accident. It’s with that Smith lawyer and she’s pretty e cient. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours there and then a few more transcribing it.”

The rest of her week is busy as well.

“I’m going to have to go out of town for a few days. No more than forty-eight hours, I think. There’s a case down in Burdock County that sheri wants me to look into.”

Angel’s pretty round face falls. Her lower lip juts out in a way that makes me want to bend forward and bite it. I know how she tastes--sweet and tart.

“Really? An overnight trip? That sucks for you.”

“You should have your sister over.” I don’t like the idea of her staying alone.

“Oh, that’s a good idea. She’s learning to knit, did you know that? Maybe she can teach me and I can make you a hat for winter.”

“Maybe she can teach both of us and I can make you a hat for winter.”

Angel bursts out laughing. “I can’t see it,” she cries.

I wiggle my fingers. “I’m very good with my hands.

You’ve said it yourself--that I have sinfully talented fingers.”

Her laughter is replaced with a blush. “I don’t think the skills you use with your knife are the same that you use with knitting.”

“We’ll have to test it out. I’ll finger you tonight until you come and then we’ll both get knitting lessons.”

Her eyes dart around and she mutters, “Lucas, there are other people here in the restaurant.”

“I know. It’s a damn shame. Eat up, darling. I’m hungry for something else and since you are opposed to me publicly fucking you, we’ll have to wait until we get home for me to feed that particular appetite.”

Her cheeks turn even rosier and, more importantly, away from the serial killer husband who is enjoying his freedom.

“Promises, promises,” she says.

“And I always deliver.”

CHAPTER FOUR ANGEL

“D ON ’ T GET THOSE . I’ LL MAKE THEM .” I TAKE THE PREMADE COOKIES from my sister's hands, putting them back. She’s spending the night with me since Lucas is away on business. I hate when he has to leave on these trips but know that it’s a part of his job. My husband is one of the best coroners in the state and I know he is needed in some cases to put bad men away where they belong. I get it, so I try to hide my disappointment when he does have to leave. I remind myself that it’s for the good of the world. He is out serving justice.

Putting bad people where they belong and giving solace to families that need it.

“You just want to make the cookies so you don’t have to knit.” Okay. That might be what I’m doing.

“Fresh cookies are better,” I try and justify.

“Look. It says here they made them today.” She points at the printed label on the plastic container. “They make them fresh right back there.” She nods toward the bakery section of the store.

“Mine are made with love.” Maybe now they’ll also have a little bit of spite because she called me out.

“Su-re,” she drawls, fighting a smile. I love to cook.

Desserts are my favorite. It is one of two things that always puts me in a good mood. The other is too far away to use that mouth of his on me. The one that always leaves me with a smile on my face. Desserts and a loving husband. What more could a girl want?

“Don’t act like you don’t love my homemade treats.” I push our already overloaded cart toward the front of the store. I recall the last time we did a sleepover we said we’d order takeout because this always happens. This cart is way over-packed with things that we’re probably not going to eat tonight and shouldn’t get.

“This is true. If your cookies are extra good I’ll do most of the knitting for you. You could do the last few stitches so then you can say that you made it and it’s not really a lie.” I scrunch my nose at the idea. “Never mind. You can’t even tell a little white lie, can you?”

“I don’t know. Seems silly to lie about something you don’t need to.”

“Sometimes a lie is for the greater good.” She hits me with a hard stare, one that says she’s trying to teach me a lesson. Maybe. It’s not something I want to think about tonight. Tonight is supposed to be about sister time and catching up.

The plan is to veg out while binge watching mindless reruns of reality TV as I try to cook so that I don’t have to knit. I should probably give it a try. I didn’t want to tell Gina whenever I think about knitting that my mind drifts to making little baby socks or mittens.

“Did I tell you I love the color you painted your o ce?”

She posted pictures of it just this morning.

“Hmm. Your voice goes up two octaves when you do try and lie. Maybe it’s best you stick to the truth.” Gina looks down at her shoes. “And what the hell is wrong with my paint? It’s white.” Everything in her o ce is white. From the walls, to the furniture, to the floor. I’d be scared to breathe in there because I could mess something up.

“Like in an insane asylum?”

“Hardy har har.” For some reason it doesn’t feel as though her o ce matches her personality.

“My o ce is a blank canvas. I go there to create things. I want everything to start from scratch.”

I ponder her words. That actually does kind of make sense. Gina really is an artist. She could create something out of nothing. Except for food. It’s her one downfall. She can’t even boil water without burning it. We all have to have a flaw of some sort. She can’t cook to save her life but she can eat like there is no tomorrow. Not that you could tell that from looking at her.

“You’re taking some of this food home with you.” We start unloading all of the groceries onto the checkout belt.

“Angel?” A chill runs up my spine at the sound of my name because I know who it is without having to look. I turn to see Chad standing there with a basket in his hand. For some reason I can’t picture him shopping at a grocery store.

His basket only has a few very random items in it.

“Hey, Chad.” I give another fake smile to him.

“What a coincidence running into you here.” It is. Not for me but for him. This is my neighborhood. I know Chad lives on the other side of the city in a penthouse condo that he’s constantly bragging about.

“I come here often.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I regret them.

“Stockpiling because the husband is out of town?” He looks at all my groceries in my cart. How does he know that

my husband is out of town? It could be random talk around the courthouse or something. “I still want to talk to you about that job.”

“I’m not looking for a new job.” I turn to help my sister unload more of the groceries. I can see her giving Chad the side-eye.

“I bet I pay double what you’re making now.”

“Dude. See the ring on her finger? I don’t think she’s worried about pay. More about enjoying her job.” My sister is quick to jump in. She makes her dislike for Chad clear in her tone and by the look on her face. She doesn’t have to make nice if she doesn’t want to. That is Gina for you. She gives no fucks and her loyalty might be to me first but my husband is a close second. She loves him like a brother. Chad glares at Gina for a moment, but she only glares back.

“See you around, Angel.” Chad winks at me before he wanders o down one of the aisles. Relief fills me at his departure. There’s something about him that rubs me the wrong way.

“He gives me the creeps.” Gina watches him go.

“Plastic okay, Mrs. Calvery?” Jimmy the cashier asks, pulling my eyes away from where Chad had wandered o .

“I’ve got my bags.” I reach under the cart, pulling them out. I hand them to Gina to hand to him since she’s closer.

“I’m serious, Angel. I don’t get good vibes.” Gina and her vibes. But they are usually right so I really can’t give her a hard time about them. “O ering you a job? Yeah, more like his dick.” The cashier giggles.

“Gina.” I hiss her name.

“Doc Lucas better not find out about that.” Jimmy snickers as he bags the groceries. As if hearing his name, my phone begins to ring.

“Angel,” he says before I can say hello. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” I don’t know how this man can still give me butterflies but he can.

“I wanted to call and tell you that I’ve got a lot to get done tonight but I’ll call you before you go to bed.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too, Angel. Save me some cookies.” I look to my sister Gina. She’s going to steal the extras and take them home with her.

“I can make no promises but I can always make more.

Just for you.”

“You’re too good to me.” He is the one that is too good to be true.

“Don’t work too hard.”

“It’s the only way I work if it gets me back home to my wife.”

I really do have the perfect husband. He really would do anything for me.

CHAPTER FIVE LUCAS

I TUCK MY PHONE AWAY . A NGEL AND HER SISTER WILL EAT , KNIT , watch television and go to bed around ten. I have only five hours to complete my task. Richard Washington is very precise, as my wife said. His grass is so uniformly cut that I would not be surprised if he did it by hand. He probably killed his wife for not putting the remote in its proper place or something equally petty. He seems the type.

From my position at the end of his property, in the woods where he’s hidden a body of a transient woman that he killed, I can see him readying for his walk. A loud buzzing noise precedes him and his dog. I look up to see a drone flying overhead. The dog bolts forward, chasing the lowflying object. I set o on my path and strategically run into Washington close to a bend in the shoreline where a rock formation creates a small shelter.

“Doc,” Washington says in surprise. He’s not used to seeing people on his route. His eyes dart toward the back of the shelter. Is that where the wife’s body is? This is the perfect place to kill someone. It’s why I picked it. I shove my

hands into my rubber trench coat and step forward. He makes an awkward sidestep, like he’s worried about disturbing the sand.

“How does it feel to be a free man?”

“How do you think it feels? Damn good. System was working for once.” Then, as if he remembers he should be sad, he adds, “But I want the real murderer to be found.”

I rub a toe in the ground. “If we had found your wife’s body, maybe the outcome would be di erent.”

He sti ens and the genial smile falls away. “Yeah, real tragedy about that.”

I brush more dirt away with my toe. He clears his throat and doesn’t speak until I raise my gaze to his. “You digging for something, Doc?” There’s a light sheen around his neck. He’s starting to sweat over something.

“No. Not really.” I abandon the dirt and give him a direct stare. “Do you believe in balance, Washington?”

“Balance? What the hell are you talking about?”

“My wife said that you liked routines and order in your life. I’d imagine that people who mess things up make you mad.”

“What’s wrong with order? If you can’t remember simple rules and can’t execute simple tasks, you don’t really o er value in this world.”

“I’m in complete agreement with you. I don’t like those people either.” I pull the syringe out of my pocket and stab him in the neck before he has time to respond. “I don’t like them at all,” I murmur as he crumples to the ground.

I fix him up good, using my coroner’s scalpel with a new blade to slice away parts of his body until the silent tears run down the side of his face. I never kill a person the same way twice. Patterns and routines will always catch up with you.

After I extract a few bits of information such as where his wife’s body is and what secrets he knows about his lawyer, Chad, I finish my work.

The tide will come in, carry away his body, and wash it up on shore somewhere else. The salt water will eat away at his skin, making it hard for even a competent corner to determine exactly what tools were used to end this man’s life.

I dig up enough of the dirt to expose the wife’s arm before sending the drone back home. The dog follows, confirming my suspicions that Washington programmed the drone to take his dog for a walk while Washington murdered his wife in this cove.

As I make my way back to the car, I call Angel.

“How is it going?” she asks cheerfully.

“Just another day at the o ce. I should be home early tomorrow.”

“I miss you.”

I lower my voice even though no one is around. “Are you alone?”

“No, my sister is going to sleep with me tonight. So no phone sex. Don’t get me worked up either, otherwise I won’t be able to go to sleep.”

That’s disappointing. I stop by my car. “You should get a good night’s sleep then because tomorrow I’ll need to work o this extra energy.”

“I can already sense the dangerous turn this conversation could take so I’m hanging up on you now,” she says but I can hear the smile and the anticipation in her voice.

I end up back at the shore earlier than I had anticipated.

The wife’s body attracted a couple of wild dogs and Detective Lee called me in.

“This is a mess,” I remark. The dogs have done a number on the body.

“Yeah. The rookie is going to quit at this point. I told him we hardly ever get cases like this. By the way, did you hear we got an ID on the body parts from yesterday?”

“Already?” It’s my turn to be surprised.

“Yeah, it was the gym teacher from two counties over who just got out of the halfway house. He had a gold crown and we were able to track him down that way.”

“That’s impressive.” And a bit alarming. I thought the identity would be hidden for a while. Dental records take a few weeks to process.

“It was dumb luck. Garcia was at the dentist for another case and got to gossiping with the o ce girls about how the pedo gym coach hadn’t been seen for a couple of days.”

“What was he doing all the way over here?” The gym teacher who had spent ten years spying on little girls, who only got a suspended sentence and six months of probation in a halfway house, lived and hunted in his town and hadn’t ever come here.

“That’s a good question. We don’t have any idea.

Forensics is working on it now although I don’t think they’re pushing themselves. There are other cases to spend their time on. Do we really care about who o ed the pedo? It was probably one of the dads.”

I don’t say anything, just pop a piece of chewing gum into my mouth. Lee takes one for himself. “I know you don’t believe in treating criminals di erently. That all bodies deserve the same respect, but some of these assholes...” Lee trails o .

“Deserve it?”

“Yeah, precisely. Some of them deserve it.”

CHAPTER SIX ANGEL

“T ELL ME YOU ’ RE GOING TO EAT MORE THAN THOSE COOKIES FOR dinner,” I ask Judge Barns as she opens the lid to the container of cookies I brought in for her. She smells them before closing the lid.

“I have a date so I’ll save these for after.”

“A date. You have a date and you’re just now mentioning this?” We had lunch together earlier. I understand that we were in court all day but she could have mentioned this date during our lunch.

“I thought you were leaving early?” she reminds me. I’ve been excited all day to see Lucas. I know he was only gone one night but I hate when he is away. The only good thing that ever comes out of it is that I get to catch up with my sister. Before Lucas it was always Gina and me. I lived with her before he came along and swept me right o my feet.

Lucas is a man that always knows what he wants. Our dating was short and our wedding rather fast. Not that I am complaining. I enjoyed every second of him sweeping me o my feet. He still does it. Our honeymoon stage does not look

to be coming to an end anytime soon. “Isn't your doc waiting for you?”

“Expect a full interrogation in the morning.” I grab my bag from o the chair in front of her desk. “At least tell me who it is.”

“You don’t know him.” Mary’s phone buzzes across her desk. She picks it up. Her eyes go wide as her mouth falls open.

“What?” I drop my bag back down.

“They found Richard Washington’s wife’s body.”

“Oh my God,” I whisper in shock.

“Of course, he’s nowhere to be found.” It takes me a minute to process what she’s saying.

“They can’t charge him with murder again.” He was already found not guilty.

“They could dig something else up.” Her brows furrow together and I know she’s thinking the same thing I’m thinking. “Maybe.” It's doubtful though. If they did maybe he’d be charged and they could put him behind bars for the rest of his life like he should've been to begin with.

“They have to find him first anyways.” He’s probably long gone. He has the money. It sickens me to think about him somewhere on some island. His escape plan for if they ever did find his wife’s remains.

“Why run? He already got o on the murder. You think that cocky bastard and Chad would think they could get away with anything else the DA threw at them.” That is a good point.

“If he didn't run?”

“Maybe someone killed him?” Mary o ers. “Did you hear that the pedophile gym teacher was found dead? He didn't go quickly either. Someone made him su er. Took their time from what I’ve heard.”

“He’s out of jail already?” I know who she is talking about. It has been over a year since he was sentenced. The sick bastard only got hit with a few years. A small slap on the wrist compared to the pain and su ering he put those poor kids through.

“He got out early for good behavior.” Mary drops her phone back down onto the desk. “Came out to death.” She quirks a half smile, not feeling one lick bad for the man. I don’t either. “Kinda makes my job easier when the sickos take each other out.”

“But that’s not how it’s supposed to work,” I mutter though I think I agree with her. I feel no guilt or sympathy for the man.

“It’s not my problem until it hits my courtroom. Even then I don’t always have a say. Someone killed a pedophile.

Get a jury to convict them. If you can.” That was also true.

Because you broke a law doesn’t always mean you have to pay the price. I knew that. I’ve seen it many times, but it always seems to go the wrong way. Maybe the system isn't working like it should be.

“Go home to your husband. Stop thinking about this.”

I pick my bag back up and give her a wave goodbye. “I will be interrogating you tomorrow about this date,” I throw over my shoulder as I head out of her o ce. I rummage around in my purse to find my keys. I dig to the bottom trying to fish them out, not paying attention to where I’m going, and I run right into someone.

“Sorry,” I say as I jump back, my head jerking up to meet Chad’s gaze. Holy crap. Why do I keep running into this man? I guess we are in the courthouse. This is his stomping ground, too.

“Where are you rushing o to, Angel?” he asks. I don’t know why it bothers me when he says my name but it always does. I regret the first time he said it and I didn't correct

him. I should have told him to call me by my last name. If I did it now it would be awkward. I hate awkward. I swear he is always trying to make me feel o . I don’t think he’s bullying me per se, but he’s pushing something. Being near him always just feels wrong and gross.

“To see the husband.”

Chad’s whole face changes at the mention of Lucas. “I heard he found Mrs. Washington.”

“Dead.” I can’t help but add that last part. During the trial, Chad played with the idea that she’d run o . No woman runs o and takes nothing with her.

“Heard it was Doc that got the call.” Lucas didn't tell me that. Maybe because we haven't had the chance to talk about it or he knew how upset I was about the case to begin with.

“I hear they can’t find Mr. Washington.” I tilt my head up. I’m fishing.

“He paid his bill with me.” Chad shrugs because that’s all he really cares about.

“I’ll see you around.” I brush my hair out of my face, stepping around him. I reach up to pull my glasses o , having forgotten I still had them on. I always wear them for court. They oddly make me feel like I have somewhat of a shield on when I am there. I’m starting to wonder if I actually love my job.

“I’m sure you will, Angel,” he drawls.

I don’t turn to look back at him as I exit the courthouse, heading straight for my car. There is only one place I want to be right now. At home with my husband. The one man I trust. The one man that always makes me feel safe.

CHAPTER SEVEN LUCAS

T HE MICROWAVE DINGS AT THE SAME TIME A NGEL TURNS THE TV ON .

I pull the popcorn bag out and dump the contents into a bowl. My wife pats her hand on the empty sofa cushion next to her.

“Did you get any knitting done?” I ask, settling in. “I want to see my new hat.”

“It’s not done yet. You can’t see a creation in the middle of the process, otherwise the magic will be spoiled. Who do you think is going to get eliminated?”

I stare at the television screen and try to remember the contestants’ names. After a minute, I give up. “The brunette who wears the red lipstick or the bearded man. They both seem out of their element.”

“The red lipstick one is Peggy and she made the amazing swans out of sugar candy last week. Plus, they really liked the bread that Aaron made. He’s the bearded guy.” She points her finger at the screen.

I eye them for a few moments, watching the contestants buzz around the open-air tent. “They both look nervous. Her

hands are shaking. He has sweat forming at his hairline.

Neither will make it to the end.” I shove a whole handful of popcorn into my mouth. Angel takes a kernel at a time. We couldn’t be more di erent. I’m big; she’s small. I eat in large gulps; she takes small sips. I kill people; she doesn’t.

“People can be nervous and not be on the verge of breaking down. Speaking of breaking down, I heard the rookie cop, Luke or something like that, is having a hard time during investigations. Sarah in dispatch thinks he’s going to quit.”

I think back to the young o cer and his green face. This job isn’t for everyone. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

“His dad was a cop and his grandfather was, too. He doesn’t want to quit because he’s afraid he’ll be an embarrassment to his family. Gosh, why have there been so many killings here lately?”

“I don’t know.” I run a hand up her arm. “Are you afraid?”

“No. It just seems odd. We go for years without a murder and now we’ve got three. Other counties have them, but not us.” She tilts her sweet face up. “Do you think we should be worried?”

“No.” I pull her onto my lap. “Nothing is ever going to happen to you.” I give her a hard kiss before redirecting her attention to the television. “You watch. I’ll take care of you.”

She feels tense and worried. I don’t like that. Not one bit.

“Take care of me how?”

“Like this.” I slide my hand under the waistband of her yoga pants. She’s wearing a thong, a wispy thing made out of elastic and lace. It takes only the slightest twist of my fingers at a weak point for it to snap.

“Oh,” she says.

I part her cunt lips and push two fingers up inside her juicy pussy. “Oh!” she says again, only this time her voice is

huskier. She tries to turn her face toward me but I press her jaw until she’s facing the television.

“Eyes straight ahead, Angel. This is your favorite show, remember?”

“Yes, but—“ “Nope.” I bite her shoulder. “No buts. You watch while I relieve your stress.” She does as she’s instructed. I don’t know how much she sees of the show, how much she takes in. My attention is on her and how her sweet pussy sucks my fingers deeper inside of her. She drenches my hand and I use that lubrication to move faster, pinning her plump pussy lips between my fingers. The sounds of me fucking her juicy cunt are joined by her breathless pants. As her pussy grows more sensitive, she tries to close her legs but I force them apart, digging the tips of my fingers into her tender thighs.

She comes with a high, thin whine emanating from her throat.

“There you go, Angel, come for me.” My wife’s hot pussy convulses around me. Her orgasm feels like tiny butterfly kisses up and down my fingers. Her tremors set o the fuse of my own pleasure. Cum roars out of my cock and spills into my jeans. My vision blurs as I hammer into her tender cunt with my hand until her spine turns to jelly.

She collapses on my chest. I slowly finger fuck her until she stops shuddering and her breath returns to normal.

“Time for bed,” I announce.

“I didn’t get to see the end of the show,” she murmurs.

With her cradled in my arms, I get to my feet and make my way to the bedroom. “It’s a good thing we have it taped.

You can watch it later.” Much later. I’m going to have to strip her down and ravage her. My dick is too hungry to be ignored. I strip o our clothes, spread her legs wide apart, and plunge into her without another word. I hold her like that, wide open for me and my invasive cock. It’s been two

days and that’s too long to be without her cunt around my fingers, around my cock. Desire makes me weak and hungry.

I want to devour her in one bite. I thrust into her again and again until her pussy is filled with my cum. I clean us up with one leg of my pants before dropping onto the mattress.

I tug the comforter over the both of us and close my eyes.

It’s been a busy couple of days, but I’m home with my woman in our bed. That’s the way I want to end each day. I stroke my hand down her back and wait for her to fall asleep.

I always wait.

Balance is important in this world, but so is Angel’s peace of mind. I can never be satisfied unless she is safe and happy.

CHAPTER EIGHT ANGEL

“W HAT ARE YOU DOING ?” I LOOK UP TO SEE MY SISTER STANDING over me. I shove my knitting disaster under the co ee shop table so that she doesn’t see it.

“What are you doing here?” I feign innocence asking my own question.

“I always get my co ee here. The question is what are you doing?” She drops down into the chair across from mine.

“There is a co ee shop next to the courthouse.” She leans over a bit to try to get a peek at what I’m hiding.

She’s right, there is a co ee shop right next to work but I decided to head toward her neck of the woods. She motions with her hand for me to give her my knitting mess. I pull it out from under the table and hand it over. She doesn't even try to fight a laugh. She cracks up when she sees my disaster.

“I’m terrible at this.” I pick my hot chocolate up, taking a drink. “No one knows me here.”

“Why does it matter if people know you?” Within seconds she undoes the mess I’ve made. Her hands are magic or something. She doesn’t even have to look as she knits.

“I feel guilty even saying why,” I admit.

“I’m your sister. This is the no shame zone.” She holds up my half-done knitted hat. “I’m not even making fun of you about this.” She sets it down onto the table knowing I don’t want her to do it for me. I am going to make this hat if it kills me.

“You remember that guy from the grocery store?”

“Mr. Creepy?” She raises her perfect eyebrows in question.

“You think he’s creepy, too?” I often feel like I’m the only one that thinks this. Women around the courthouse fawn all over Chad. He dazzles jurors with his fake charm. I really don’t get it. I don’t understand how people don’t see through him. I guess he isn’t bad on the eyes, but he gives o a weird vibe that crawls up my spine every time I see him and gives me the chills. It might be because I know he’s sheisty as shit.

“I think the way he was looking at you was creepy.”

“Well, it’s him I’m avoiding. He’s always around and one of the hearings that I was supposed to record for today settled so I have a few hours to kill until my next.”

“Lucas know about this?” I shake my head no quickly.

“Why not?” My mouth opens but no words come out. Why haven't I told him that Chad has been popping up on me randomly? “If he’s creeping you out you should say something.”

“It’s not against the law to be creepy.” I take another drink of my hot chocolate. “People think my Lucas can be creepy.”

I don’t care for it when I hear people say that about him.

He isn’t creepy. He is brilliant. He is the reason that bad men and women who’ve done horrible things get what they deserve. My man has a mind like no other.

He jokes that he can be somewhat OCD but he pays attention to details. He always tells me that everything is in

the details. That no matter how small they may be that they are important.

It’s part of how he won me over so quickly. There wasn't a thing he missed when it came to me. He notices every breath I take. I wiggle in my seat trying to get my mind from wandering down that path. He’s so attuned to my body because he pays attention to the sounds I make. He knows when I like something, which in turn allows him to bring me great pleasure.

The man really believes I’m an angel. One he must protect and always take care of. I think that might be part of the reason why I haven't said something to him about Chad showing up all of the time. What if I am wrong? What if they are just coincidences?

The man is a lawyer. He has to be at the courthouse and it’s not unreasonable for him to be out at places around the courthouse either. I’m not sure if Lucas is the jealous type. I don’t think there has ever been a reason for him to be. If I said something it could make things weird for everyone.

“Lucas is not creepy. He’s wicked smart and can read people. It’s only creepy if you have something to hide.” Gina has been team Lucas from the moment I introduced them.

Before he came along I’d been on a dry spell, having given up on dating. It was only one bad date after another at that point. Then Lucas came into my life. I don’t think we’ve ever had a bad date. The man is perfect.

“I lucked out the day Lucas came into my life. He’s hot and crazy smart.” He is irresistible. I don’t know how some other woman hadn’t snagged him up before me. If people can't see what I do, maybe that is a good thing. They will stay away from my husband. Okay, I might be the jealous one. Not that I have to worry about Lucas. That man will never leave me. He meant every word of those wedding vows when he said them. ‘Til death do us part.

“Let’s not forget he’s out of his mind crazy in love with you.” I smile at her because it’s the truth. She reaches her hand across the table to grab mine. “All kidding aside, if you’re feeling a certain way about Chad, I think you should tell Lucas.”

I squeeze her hand. “I don’t think it’s to that point yet, but I promise I will.” She stares at me, not convinced by my words. “I will!” I reassure her. If he does something else, I’ll bring it up to Lucas. Until then I hope it goes away and it really is all in my head.

“Good. Now, who did Lucas say was going to win? I’m thinking Peggy. Is it Peggy? He always guesses right.” I open my mouth to tell her what Lucas told me but she stops me.

“Wait, don’t tell me. It will ruin it. I’ll wait like everyone else.” I laugh because she’s right. Lucas always does get it right.

CHAPTER NINE LUCAS

“C AUSE OF DEATH IS ASPHYXIATION , SPECIFICALLY SUFFOCATION .

Cyanotic tissue is visible around the mouth and chest and extremities. There are signs of petechiae in the eyes and along the neck.”

“Use broken blood vessels,” I suggest, interrupting the intern’s dictation. When she looks up, I explain, “it’s easier for the lay people to understand what you’re saying. Not many people will know petechiae are tiny hemorrhages but most will understand broken blood vessels. You write these reports for police o cers, prosecutors, judges, and jurors.”

“Okay, gotcha. There are signs of broken blood vessels around the eyes, along the neck and in the wrists.” She checks with me again to see if I approve. I do and signal for her to continue. The process of dictating the report goes on for another twenty minutes. I point out a couple of areas that I think the intern has missed but overall, I’m pleased with her progress. After she finishes, she puts the dictation equipment away and starts to clean up the report while I zip up the body and push it into the containment unit.

“Who do you think did this?” the intern asks as she fixes the dictation errors in the document.

“That’s for the detectives to figure out. We merely examine the bodies brought to us and make conclusions about the time and manner of death.”

“Right, but aren’t you a little curious? Like this woman who was su ocated. Most people that die of asphyxiation are strangled, but this woman was su ocated and there weren’t any signs of defensive wounds. She had some alcohol but not enough to render her unconscious. It would’ve had to happen in her sleep.”

With someone she trusted, I mentally add. The detectives should be able to narrow it down easily. We were able to pinpoint the death within a thirty-minute period. There would only be a few people in contact with the deceased during the time of death.

“They’ll be able to figure it out. Lee and Sanchez are very good,” I assure the intern. Almost too good. If I didn’t have my position and their trust, perhaps I would’ve been caught, but they are handicapped in a way that they don’t even suspect. Some crimes don’t need to be solved, though. It’s not a mark against them and I hope they don’t take it as one.

“I’m guessing it’s her husband. It’s always the husband, isn’t it? Or the boyfriend. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m single.” She sighs heavily as she punches the print button.

Once the report is printed out, signed and stamped, we both clean up the room for our next examination.

“Where’d you meet Angel?” the intern asks as we wipe down the table.

“At the grocery store. She was struggling with the selfcheckout.” In actuality, I’d seen her on the street and followed her inside the store. Her struggling actually was the result of me leaning on the scale when she was trying to weigh her tomatoes. I confessed later and she laughed.

“Huh. I guess I should stop using the delivery service then. I usually order all my groceries in because I hate people but I’m tired of being alone. I want someone, but I also don’t. Do you know what I mean?”

I actually do so I give the girl a terse nod. Angel is the only person I love. The rest of the world I merely tolerate. If I hadn’t met Angel, if I hadn’t seen her on the street, I would be alone. She keeps me tethered to this world, makes me realize that there is some part of humanity worth saving.

“I’ve been trying to use those dating apps but once they start asking what I do, no one’s interested. People think it’s creepy.” The intern sighs. “You’re lucky, Doc.” “Yes, I am.” Angel’s too good for me, a person who deals in death every day. It follows me even after I leave here, even though I shower using the special soap Angel bought me.

There’s something about death that lingers. I can spot a murderer a mile away. The stench of death never leaves them; it hovers like a dark cloud. Others see it, too. I know most people in the city call me Dr. Death and that even the lawyers and cops who rely on my work don’t like me much.

They’re afraid death is contagious. This sort of social ostracization doesn’t bother me, but it weighs heavily on my young intern’s shoulders. I clear my throat and search for something to say. “You’ll find the one,” I settle on.

The intern shrugs her shoulders. “I suppose. Anyway, Angel’s a doll. Of course she wouldn’t hold your career against you. That’s why everyone loves her. She even has the defense lawyers wrapped around her little finger. Chad Dering is always talking about her.”

“He is?” My fingers curl around the scalpel.

“Yup. He said she’s the only court reporter he wants to work with.”

I force my hand to drop the scalpel and walk calmly over to the sink. “It’s time to take a break.”

“Already? We have two more—“ “Yes. Now.” I wipe my hands o and slap the towel against the edge of the sink. Chad’s o ce is a brisk tenminute walk from the coroner’s building. I arrive in six minutes. There’s a woman sitting at the reception desk when I throw open the outer door. She smiles and starts to welcome me, but the bright look fades when I brush by her without a word.

“Sir. You can’t go inside,” she calls after me, tottering on impossibly high heels. “Sir. Sir! He’s with a client.”

I ignore her and slam my fist against the wooden door with Chad’s name lettered in gold across the front. It opens with a bang, striking the wall. The loud noise jerks Chad to attention. He and the woman fly apart.

“Leave,” I order.

The woman jerks her skirt down and slinks past me, muttering something about how her day was bad before but she didn’t expect Dr. Death to visit. She should be happy that she’s seeing me in public with other people around.

“I’m so sorry, Chad. He just burst through,” moans the secretary.

Chad waves his hand. “Don’t worry about it. You can’t expect a guy who works with corpses to know how normal people interact. With alive, breathing people, you need to knock and wait to be invited inside,” he instructs.

“I don’t care for your rules but you should care about mine. Stay away from my wife or”—my eyes fall to his pants that are still undone—“you won’t have anything to entertain your clients with.”

“Is that a threat Dr. Death?”

“No. It’s a promise.”

CHAPTER TEN ANGEL

I LEAN UP AGAINST THE COUNTER AS I PEEL THE POTATOES FOR DINNER while watching the news. I don’t know why I do this to myself. If Lucas was here he’d change the channel on me.

It’s only one sad story after another. I rinse the potatoes to cut them next, checking the time. I am only doing the prep for dinner. Lucas will be the one cooking tonight.

As much as I am excited for him to come home, I know I have to tell him about Chad. There is no way that I can avoid telling him any longer. Chad’s getting more and more pushy by the day. He came over to me again today and o ered me a job. The man doesn't know how to take no for an answer. In all honesty, I’m not even sure I want to keep doing what I’m doing.

Some of these cases are starting to wear on me. I hate the way they make me feel. At least the past few days nothing big or newsworthy has happened. I know that there will eventually be another case that will wear me down. Maybe I’m not cut out for this. Someone has to do it, though. It’s been an inner struggle for a while now.

I turn to look at the back door when I hear the sound of the alarm being disabled. Lucas comes strolling in a moment later. I grab the towel, wiping o my hands before I go to him. He meets me halfway, picking me up o my feet as he kisses me.

“Missed you,” I say before I take another kiss. He’s my home. I feel complete when he is here.

“Missed you too, Angel.” He gives my ass a squeeze.

“Why you watching this shit?” He doesn't let me down as he carries me over to the kitchen counter and sits me down before changing the channel. He hates when I watch depressing things, especially the news.

“Your sister called.” He goes over to the counter where I was about to start cutting the potatoes. Great, I’m going to have to get into the Chad situation already.

“Oh?” I stall, waiting to see exactly where he’s steering this conversation.

“She wanted to ask me who I thought was going to win the baking competition.” I let out a small laugh. He smiles over at me. “She hung up on me before I could answer her.”

“Of course she did.” I laugh harder. Lucas starts cutting the potatoes. His hands move quickly as he slices them within seconds. It would take me three times as long if I were doing it. He’s so talented with his hands and not only in the kitchen.

“Anything else happen today?” He puts the sliced potatoes into a bowl.

“My hearing was cancelled but you already know that.”

I’d texted him. I try to think of something else to tell him, really trying to avoid the conversation at hand. “I suck at knitting. If your head was half the size I’d be done so really this is your fault.”

He lets out a deep chuckle that warms all of my insides. I don’t know how he does it but Lucas still makes me feel like

a schoolgirl with a crush. Butterflies dance in my stomach whenever he is near.

“I’m sorry, Angel.” He comes back over to me to place a kiss on the tip of my nose. “You could just make it a baby hat.” He turns, going to the refrigerator to pull out the steaks he set to marinate this morning.

I lick my suddenly dry lips. We’ve talked about kids before but we’ve never said when or how many. They are always random comments.

“You going to spit out whatever it is you’re dancing around telling me?” Lucas breaks my thoughts of babies.

“How do you do that?” I don’t know why I ask. Lucas can read me like a book. He’s always paying attention to everything I do.

“I can get it out of you one way or another,” he warns. He turns the stove o , waiting for my move. I know he’s right.

One way or another I am going to spill. I might as well get it over with so I stop fretting about it.

“It’s Chad.”

Lucas’s whole demeanor changes. He stands a little taller.

His arms fold over his chest for a moment before he quickly drops them. “What about him?”

“It might be nothing.” I try and downplay it some. I can tell he is pissed for a moment then masks it quickly.

“When it comes to you Angel, it’s everything. Now tell me what Chad did.”

“Well, he keeps o ering me a job.”

“You don’t want this job.” He’s not asking me. He knows how much I dislike Chad. That I always groan when I hear his name.

“Of course not, but he keeps on pushing.”

“Pushing.” Lucas takes a step toward me.

“It might be in my head but I swear every time I turn around he’s there. Not just at work either. It could be a

coincidence.” I cringe at my own words.

“There are no coincidences, Angel. Like that day in the grocery store. I followed you in.”

“You’d follow me anywhere.” I smile, trying to lighten the dark mood that has fallen over the kitchen. I know he’s not upset with me but with Chad.

“I would,” he agrees, stepping between my legs. I put my hands on his chest, breathing him in. I know my touch always brings him comfort. He leans into it. “Can you blame me?”

“I’m thankful for the day you followed me into that grocery store. Not so much for Chad being at our grocery store.” Lucas’s jaw ticks. It’s quick but I catch it.

“Has he shown up anywhere else that isn't work?”

I nod my answer. “Don’t be upset.”

“Don’t be upset that someone is scaring my wife?”

“I didn’t say I was-” He levels me with a look. Yeah, I suck at lying. “I don’t want to cause problems.”

“You’re never a problem, Angel.” He leans down to kiss me. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

When he pulls back I smile up at him because his mouth is a little red and swollen from our kisses. “Chad won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“But we have to work together sometimes.” If only it were so easy to avoid the man.

“You trust me?”

“You don’t ever have to ask me that.” I trust this man with my life. He thinks I’m his angel but he’s my everything.

“Then I’ll handle it.”

“Okay.” I instantly feel better, feeling silly that I didn’t say something sooner. Of course my Lucas would handle it for me. He’d do anything for me.

CHAPTER ELEVEN LUCAS

I’ VE NEVER TAKEN A PERSON ’ S LIFE OUT OF REVENGE . A LL OF MY killings have been done simply to restore balance in this world. Pedophiles, abusers, rapists don’t get the punishment they deserve. Sentences are too light. Cases are too hard to prove. Victims live in fear. That never sat right with me so I used the skills I had to make things right. I’ve never deviated from that in the past. It’s the only way I can sleep in Angel’s bed, touch her precious body, accept her love.

Chad is not a pedophile, abuser, or rapist. He’s an asshole who cheats on his taxes, his clients, and his partners. And now he’s an asshole who has made my wife feel unsafe. Is that enough to warrant his death? I lower my binoculars to my lap. I shouldn’t have to wait for him to hurt her in order to act. That seems nonsensical.

Angel’s ringtone buzzes, momentarily distracting me.

“Darling?”

“I hope I didn’t bother you. I was just going to leave a voice message.”

“Not a bother.”

“Mom called and she’s complaining that she hasn’t seen us in a week. Do you mind if we go over there tonight for dinner? She’s making your favorite--pot roast and garlic mashed potatoes.”

“What time?”

“Is six too early?”

“Perfect. I’ll stop and get a bottle of the merlot she likes.”

“Thank you. And don’t work too hard today.”

“I won’t.”

It’s mid-morning and I’ve done nothing but shadow Chad. He’s boring. When he is not playing solitaire on his computer, flirting with his secretary who isn’t interested, or accepting a blowjob from a client who washed her mouth out with Coke after the encounter and spit into the bushes outside his building, he is sleeping. I drum my fingers against the steering wheel. Can I take his life? Will the world be imbalanced if I don’t? How can I be true to my vows to Angel and allow him to continue to breathe? She doesn’t want to admit it, but he frightens her. That isn’t allowed. Not while I’m here. Is there something I can do short of killing him? A simple beating perhaps? I cheer up at the prospect. I could disfigure him and every time he looked in the mirror he would have a reminder of what happens if he disrespects Angel. As I mull over that idea, I make a few notes in my notepad and tuck it away. I need to get back to the morgue and supervise an autopsy of a young man who may or may not have taken his own life. That’s more important than Chad at the moment.

It’s nearly five when I sign o on the report. The young man had died of natural causes. His family would find some sort of peace from this, I think. I have just enough time to shower and then pick up the wine for Linda, Angel’s mother.

The older woman greets me at the door with a huge smile and hug.

“Lucas. You’re here. Bill, your son is here.” She gestures for me to hurry inside.

The scent of the roasted meat and roasted garlic fills my head. “It smells delicious, Linda.”

“Well, it’s done.” She pats my back and relieves me of the wine. “Go in and sit with Bill. He’s watching the news and needs someone to listen to him argue with the anchors since Angel and I refuse to.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bill hates politics and reporters but is addicted to both. The news is always on in the Peterson household and it’s always loud.

“Can you believe this shit?” Bill says when I step into the den. “The shit that they’re allowed to say on the air is incredible. Do they fact check anymore? Do they know what a fact is? If these two were in my class, I’d have failed them.”

Bill is a retired science teacher. That’s where he met Linda, the school receptionist. When he tells the story of how they fell in love, it always starts with Linda dropping a stapler on his foot. Linda says she threw it at him for being a jerk. We all know whose version is accurate.

“Who’d you cut up today?”

“The Benson boy.”

“That’s some sad news. I had his cousin in my biology class. He was dumber than the notebooks he never wrote in.”

“Did he drop your class to graduate?”

“I passed him because no matter how many times he sat in my class, he wasn’t ever going to get it.”

Hearing that Bill bent the rules and passed kids who shouldn’t have been passed surprises me. Bill reads me accurately. He mutes the television and leans over the arm of his chair. “I know you’re a by the book kind of guy, Lucas, and I like that about you. I didn’t think there would be anyone good enough for Angel.”

“I’m not,” I inform him.

“‘Course you’re not. No one is but you’re good enough.

You’re steady and trustworthy and you probably would’ve made the Benson boy sit in your class a hundred times if that’s what it took for him to get his grade up, but not everything’s black and white. The Benson kid had two younger siblings and a deadbeat father. He needed to be out of school and making money. Things like Mendel and his peas and his model theories in genetics isn’t going to help him put food on the table. He works out at the washing machine plant welding tubs and making fifty grand a year.

Passing him out of biology wasn’t for me; it was for him.

Sometimes you do things that aren’t quite right because it helps someone else out. You know what I mean.”

I stare at my father-in-law for a long, silent moment before nodding. “I know what you mean. Some things aren’t always black and white.”

Bill doesn’t know about my nocturnal activities, nor that Chad Dering is bothering his daughter, so it’s unlikely that this speech was meant to give a blessing on my plans for Chad, but it comes o that way because Bill is absolutely correct. Sometimes you do things that aren’t quite right because it helps someone out. I vowed on our wedding day to love, honor and protect her, which means tonight is Chad’s very last one.

CHAPTER TWELVE ANGEL

W E KISS MY PARENTS GOODBYE BEFORE L UCAS GUIDES ME TOWARD THE car on the side of the house. I peek over at my husband.

Tonight was like any other night that we spent at my parents’ house. They’ve loved Lucas from the moment I brought him home to meet them. I lean into him as we round the back of the car. He opens the door for me. He’s always the gentleman. Making sure that I want for nothing.

“You okay, darling?” he asks when I don’t step into the car right away. I drop my head back to look up at him. He looks as handsome as ever.

“You have fun with my dad tonight?” I lick my bottom lip, still tasting the wine I’d finished before we left.

“I always enjoy your dad’s company.” He does. Lucas really is the perfect husband. Sometimes I feel terrible because I keep waiting for him to have some sort of flaw but he never does. Can someone really be this perfect? Even the things that he thinks are flaws I don’t agree with. They make him who he is, my Lucas, and more charming, if you ask me.

“What if my dad had told you no when you asked to marry me?” The smile he has falters for a second. My breath hitches when I swear for a brief moment something dark flashes in his eyes. My nipples harden.

“Then I’d have worked harder at winning him over.”

I purse my lips, thinking over his answer. He leans down, kissing my warm cheeks which are flushed from a mix of the wine and my arousal.

“You going to get in the car so I can take my tipsy wife home and take advantage of her?”

“You would never.” I sigh.

“No,” he agrees.

“You can’t take advantage of the willing.” I go to get into the car but he stops me.

“Angel.”

I look back up at him. His face is serious. Did I say something wrong? He was right. I am a bit tipsy. Mom filled me with too much wine tonight in her probe about when she would have grandchildren.

“No one would ever stop me from marrying you.” He shifts, pinning me to the side of the car. His mouth falls onto mine.

I gasp in surprise. My arms instinctively wrap around his neck. My mouth parts for him as he pushes his tongue past my lips. I cling to him, forgetting where we are as I kiss him back. I never have to doubt that Lucas loves or wants me. He shows it in everything that he does. He’s determined to make me happy.

“Lucas.” I breathe out his name when he pulls his mouth from mine as he begins kissing my neck. I drop my head back, making sure he has all the room he needs.

“Home.” My eyes spring open. A second later I’m in the passenger seat with Lucas buckling me in.

“I never made out in my parents’ driveway before,” I admit as Lucas gets into the driver’s side and pulls out. He gives me the same look I get whenever anyone brings up someone I dated in the past. One that says he hates hearing about it. It’s ridiculous that he would even get a tiny bit jealous about my dating history since it was mostly disastrous. That was until he came along. Maybe that’s why he’s so dang perfect. The universe felt bad because of all the terrible men it had sent my way before. It should because it seems that I had attracted the weird ones. I deserved a Lucas after living through all of those awful dates.

“Are you jealous? Thinking about me with someone else?”

Lucas’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “You weren’t with someone else,” he corrects.

“I kissed other men.” Why am I poking him? Maybe it’s because I enjoy it when he gives me a peak at this side of him.

“Angel.” His voice takes a firmer tone. My legs clench together. His eyes flick there, seeing my reaction.

“I’m turned on.” I wiggle in my seat.

“I see that.” His eyes roam over my face for a moment.

It’s then I realize we’re in our driveway already. I’d been so focused on needling him. “Are you trying to make me mad, Angel?”

“You don’t get mad at me.” At least I don’t remember a time that he got mad at me. Upset, sure. It’s usually over something as ridiculous as me forgetting to lock the back door. I wouldn’t tell him that it was small because it obviously was important to him.

“Bringing up other men.” He reaches up, hitting the button for the garage a little harder than it needs to be.

“Saying we couldn’t get married.”

“We are married, ” I remind him, trying to feign innocence. “You took my virginity.” I’ll never forget that night. How he’d taken me with such care. He’d been so gentle and loving. Making sure that I enjoyed myself with the smallest amount of pain as possible.

He pulls into the garage, parking the car. He sits there for a moment not looking at me. The quiet stretches. With each second that ticks by the air in the car grows thicker. I push my thighs together tighter; the throb is becoming almost unbearable. Why am I getting so turned on poking at him?

He was right. It’s what I’ve been doing since we stepped out of my parents’ house.

“One of the hardest nights of my life.” He looks over at me finally. There’s a dark look in his eyes.

“What?”

“That night that you gave yourself to me finally.”

I bark out a laugh. “It was our second date.” I’d been ready the first night but Lucas and I had done other things instead. The man’s mouth is as perfect as the rest of him.

“Yes. I wanted to bend you over the table of the Italian restaurant and fuck you right there but I knew you wouldn’t want to go back there if I did that.”

I suck in a breath. He’s right, it’s one of our favorite spots and we go there every week. “You’ve never fucked me.” He hasn’t. Of course he’s pleasured me until I was screaming his name but he’s never actually fucked me. He’s never thrown caution to the wind and taken me without reservation.

“Do you want to be fucked, Angel? Is that what this is about?” I open my mouth but suddenly no words come out.

“I’ll give you whatever you ask of me. Anything. You know this.”

I do know it.

“Say the words, Angel.”

“I want you to fuck me.” My seatbelt is o in a second. He pulls me over the center console and out of the car.

“Wrap around me.” Even as he’s saying it, I’m already doing it. I kiss him as he somehow gets us into the house. My back hits the wall.

“Lucas.” I moan his name as he works my clothes o . His mouth is all over me until I’m naked in front of him.

He lifts me again, pinning me to the wall. His mouth is everywhere. I rub against him, trying to find the friction I need. I’m so close already, teetering on the edge of orgasm.

I’ve never seen this part of Lucas before. It’s so hot. I didn’t think he could get more sexy, but this is proving me wrong.

It’s intoxicating and I want it all. I’m angry that I've never seen it before. I should know every part of him. He’s been keeping this from me.

“Angel.” My head falls forward at the sound of my name.

I dig my nails into his shoulders as his hand slips between us. He unfastens his belt, keeping me pinned to the wall.

“Yes,” I beg. “Don’t stop.”

“Don’t think I could.” He thrusts inside of me to the hilt.

I take him easily. I am so turned on. I clench around him, my body never wanting him to leave. His hands tighten on my ass as he plunges in and out of me in hard, fast strokes. Each one hitting exactly where I need it.

“Harder.” I bite his earlobe, urging him on.

“This what you wanted, Angel? Me taking your pussy without restraint? Well, you got it.” He’s in control of my orgasm in this position. I try to meet his thrusts but he controls our pace. “You’ll come when I say and not a second before.” His words alone almost send me over the edge. His fingers continue to dig into my skin. His touch is nowhere near gentle and for some reason the thought of having tiny bruises from our lovemaking only heightens my arousal.

“Lucas.” I'm too overwhelmed to get any other words out.

One of his hands leaves my ass, reaching around to rub my clit.

“Come,” he demands. My body does as my husband orders. The orgasm takes hold of me. I come so hard my nails sink further into Lucas’s skin. I cling to him as he pumps a few more times, his warm release filling me. I bury my face in his neck, trying to catch my breath.

“I love you,” I tell him.

His whole body relaxes. “I love you, too.” He lays me down in our bed. I cuddle into him, smiling against his neck.

I have no idea what just happened but it was wonderful. I do know that I’ll be poking my husband a little more often if this is the consequence.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN LUCAS

“Y OU ’ RE IN A GOOD MOOD ,” MENTIONS THE INTERN .

“Oh?” I don’t look up from the report I’m reviewing.

“You’re humming and you never hum.”

“It is sunny out,” I reply, not even bothering to check whether that’s accurate because in my world, the sun is shining.

She marches to the small window and flicks open the blinds. “I guess it is,” she says after a moment.

I make a few adjustments and slide the document over to her. “You can go now.” I have plans to plot out.

The intern turns to leave when the door flies open. Lee and Sanchez burst through, their arms full of manila folders.

My brows crash together. I don’t like what I’m seeing.

“I think we’ve found something.”

“We think we’ve found something,” Sanchez corrects.

“Right. Anyway”—Lee drops his pile of folders onto my desk and slaps one open—“this is Dennis Graham. He was accused of abusing his foster kids. Three of them spoke out against him in a preliminary hearing. One died before the

trial and the other two refused to testify at trial. The case was thrown out and he walked.”

“You have a new charge against him?”

“No. Look.” Lee stabs his finger against the autopsy report. “The guy was fileted about three weeks after the mistrial. His genitals were mutilated. He su ered from severe internal bleeding. He had blows to his chest and groin that were likely inflicted by a hammer.”

“Sounds su ciently deadly.” I cock my head. “Are you suspicious about the manner of death and planning on having the body exhumed for reexamination?”

“No. I want you to look at this. Sanchez--” “I’ve got it,” she says before Lee can finish his statement.

“This is Val Cooper. She was the mom of the kid that was found chained in the basement. She claimed that her kid was possessed by the devil and she was forced to keep the kid there for the safety of others. She pled insanity and got sentenced to six months in a mental institution but got out after only three.”

“And the autopsy report says that she died of asphyxiation.” I peer up at the detectives. “These files appear to pertain to deceased individuals. Are you doing an audit of another coroner’s o ce?”

“No. Today Mr. Washington’s body washed up on shore, just north of the inlet where Old Man Dodd lives.”

So soon. Perhaps I should have weighted his body down, but, no, that would have defeated the purpose. Dead bodies are meant to be found and examined. The cases without bodies linger in people’s minds, encourage discovery missions such as the one that Lee and Sanchez are currently engaged in.

“And he is related to one of these two cases or”—I eye the folders—“or all of these cases?”

“Possibly. There’s one thing that connects all these cases,” Lee says. There’s a gleam in his eye that is making me uneasy.

“Bad coroner work?” I quip.

“All of these cases are unsolved and they all involve a person who was accused of a disgusting crime and either got a light sentence or no sentence at all,” Sanchez supplies. She dumps her files on top of Lee’s and starts going through them, listing o case after case—a pedophile here, an abuser there, a rapist two counties over.

I point that out. “Some of these files aren’t from us.”

“I know. I’ve—we’ve been working on this all week.

Washington’s body is the nail in the co n.”

“What are you suggesting?” pipes in the intern.

Lee whirls around to face the young woman. “We have a serial killer. Someone is killing all these people.”

“None of the killings are the same,” I say, flipping through the files. “This one was by blunt trauma. This one was from blood loss. This one says they died of a heart attack.” I was particularly proud of that one. It takes skill to induce heart trauma in an otherwise healthy person.

“It’s the randomness that is the common thread,” Lee declares.

Both my intern and I look at the detectives in slightly disdainful disbelief. “The fact that there is nothing similar about these deaths is what you’re using to connect them all?”

“Not just that,” SanchezSanchez says, her cheeks a bit pink. “It’s that they’re all—“ “Scum,” sni s the intern. “It sounds like it’s good riddance.”

“It’s not our place to make that judgment,” I say.

The intern dips her head and pretends to busy herself with the report we just finished but not before I catch her

rolling her eyes. “Some people need killing,” she mutters under her breath.

I pretend not to hear her. “What would you like me to do with these files, Detective?”

There’s a stretch of silence before SanchezSanchez says, slightly abashed, “We want you to review the cases to see if you can find any similarities, any tells. Did the killer use a drug to incapacitate them? Was there one primary method of death such as a blow to the head?”

“This head looks perfectly intact,” I point to the file in front of me.

“I know it looks that way, but maybe we can start to draw some commonalities and draw up an MO for this guy. There are four other jurisdictions that are ready to cooperate, but everyone knows we have the best coroner so that’s why we’re bringing the files to you.”

“Four?” Usually these departments from other counties can’t agree on which donuts to serve at a state convention but they’re all cooperating on these case files, some of which are—I flip to a yellowed folder—ten years old.

“Yeah and maybe more. We’ve sent out feelers to other counties.”

“This is a lot of work.” I cast an eye toward the coolers where I have three bodies waiting.

“We know. What can we do to help?” SanchezSanchez pulls up a chair and plops down. “We’re ready to go through these with you.”

“Flora, can you stay?” I ask the intern.

She nods reluctantly. “I’m getting overtime for this, though, right?”

I arch an eyebrow. SanchezSanchez sighs. “Yeah. Yeah.

I’ll put in a request. Now can we get started?”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN ANGEL

I STARE DOWN AT THE PHONE FEELING DISAPPOINTED BY L UCAS ’ TEXT .

I thought last night was wonderful. He seemed to enjoy himself also, but suddenly worry fills me. I can still feel the small ache in my body. After I’d passed out he’d woken me up an hour later and taken me again. This had gone on all night. I should be tired today, but I’m not. I was on a happy cloud until Lucas replied to me that he has to work late.

“What’s got you down all of a sudden?” I look up to see Judge Barnes standing there.

“Lucas has to work late.” I pocket my phone.

“That’s sweet.” She smiles at me.

“Sweet that my husband has to work late?”

“No, sweet that you’re clearly going to miss those few hours he could have been home.” She rounds her desk, sitting down. I was wrapping up a few things before I head out for the day. We’ve been in court all day together. It’s been a long day and Lucas not being home until late was not how I planned on ending it.

“You know I won the bet on you two?”

“Mary!” I hiss her name, trying to hold back my smile that the judge was placing bets with coworkers.

“What? I knew the odds. You two have been in love from the first time you laid eyes on each other. There was no denying it. I could see it written all over both of your faces.

No one thought the adorable new clerk would go for the hot coroner except me.” I know everyone refers to Lucas’ outwardly appearance as hot, but creepy is often in the running, too. That description of him has died down a little since we got married.

“Well, I did.” I stand, grabbing my bag from o the floor to put my planner and notepad away.

“And it’s sweet how in love you still are with one another.

It’s easy to forget about love and good things when we’re around such evil all the time in this courtroom.”

“We haven't been married that long.” I laugh, pulling the bag over my shoulder. Not that I think that will change. If I’ve learned anything from being married it’s that I fall more and more in love with Lucas every day. Just when I think I can’t love someone more, he goes and shows me otherwise.

“I know but it’s a long haul.” She waves her hand.

“You still got money on us or something?” I tease her.

I’m so lucky to have her as a boss. I’ve heard nightmare stories about other judges.

“I already won,” she says smugly.

“I’ll see you later.” I give her a wave as I head out the door. I fish my phone back out and find my car keys. I look up when I feel someone watching me to see Chad sitting on a bench. He gives me an odd look but thankfully doesn't come over. I keep walking until I make it to my car. My steps are a little quicker because Chad gives me the creeps.

I don’t want to go home. I want to see Lucas. I’m curious to know why he suddenly has to work late. Was he regretting last night? That thought keeps popping into my head.

Insecurity starts to flare up inside me. I bite my lip, thinking about what I should do. Normally I’d go home, make myself some dinner and wait for him. But I know that this worry will eat at me all night. None of it is founded but I know going home is not the solution.

“I want to see him.” I start my car and pull out. I feel a bit o now. So I do what I think Lucas would want me to do.

Come to him. I stop to pick him up some dinner first before heading over toward his o ce. My phone dings as I pull up at his building.

Lucas: You didn't text me back I hadn't. Mary came back into the o ce and then I decided to just come here.

Me: I’m here. I brought you dinner.

Okay, I brought more than dinner. I brought some insecurities with me, too. I knew that if I saw Lucas I would feel better.

I grab my stu , stepping out of the car and heading toward the front of the building. I barely make it inside and Lucas is there.

“Everything okay?” he asks, his eyes filled with worry.

“Can’t a wife bring her husband dinner?”

“My wife can do anything she wants.” He takes my hand, leading me back to his o ce. The place is pretty much empty now.

“Anything?” I step inside and he closes the door behind me. I don’t miss the sound of the lock clicking into place but I pretend I don’t notice. I set the bag down on his desk. Lucas comes up behind me, moving my hair o my shoulder and placing a kiss on my neck.

“Anything,” he agrees. I suck in a breath when he nips at my neck then places another kiss there before stepping away from me. I lick my lips, trying not to show my disappointment. This isn’t why I came here. Is it?

“I brought you dinner,” I say as if he doesn't know. I texted him that and he can see the bag.

“I see that, Angel.”

He grabs my hand, pulling me around his desk. He sits down, and I think he’s going to pull me into his lap, but he shifts, putting me between his legs. My ass rests on the edge of his desk.

“I think you came here for something.” His hand drifts up my skirt.

“Here?” I wiggle, already getting wet from the brush of his fingers on my thigh.

“Lift the dress.” His tone changes, making my nipples go hard. I reach down, pulling my dress up to reveal my panties.

His fingers hook into them as he drags them down my legs. I step out of them before he tucks them away into his pocket.

“Does this hurt?” He leans in, kissing a small bruise on my hip. I’d seen it this morning when I was getting dressed.

I know the bruise is from one of his fingers digging into me.

“No.” I shake my head. “I like it.” He smiles against it, pressing another kiss there.

“You like a lot of things you never told me about.” His mouth moves lower. I push back onto his desk, spreading my thighs more.

“I didn't know,” I admit.

“You going to be quiet for me?” His warm breath fans over my center as his fingers dig into my thighs. I drop my head back, needing his tongue on me now. “Answer me,” he demands. That tone makes me let out a small whimper.

“Yes,” I breathe out. “Please, Lucas,” I beg. My whole body is on fire. I need him. I need his mouth on me. I know the pleasure that’s in store for me.

“No need to beg. I’ll always give you what you need, Angel.” He does. Lucas gives me things I didn't even know I needed. Today it’s two mind-blowing orgasms before he

walks me to my car, telling me to be ready for him when he gets home.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN LUCAS

M R . W ASHINGTON ’ S BODY IS DELIVERED OVERNIGHT . I HAVE F LORA pull him out of the freezer.

“I think the guy likes knives,” Flora says as she examines the deceased’s torso.

“What makes you think that?”

“I was looking at the files last night and there are a couple of similarities--not a lot. I wouldn’t have made the connection that Lee and SanchezSanchez did but now that I’m sort of tracing things backward, I see things. On victims 10, 17, and 25, he used a blade. I’m not sure what kind but it was sharp and he was skilled.”

I clean the undersides of Mr. Washington’s fingernails.

There won’t be anything incriminating as he never touched me. There isn’t anything on his body that could be traced back to me. I use ordinary tools that are disposed of immediately. The manner of death depends solely upon the person’s crime. In Mr. Washington’s case, no knives were used.

“Anything else you noticed?”

“One other thing.”

A satisfied note in her voice has me raising my head.

Those victims were so long ago and early in my chosen path.

I could’ve made mistakes. “Yes?” “Nearly a dozen of the victims have been defended by Chad Dering.” She raises both her eyebrows and points the tip of the cotton swab at me. “Don’t you think that’s suspicious?”

I think it’s rather perfect, actually. I try to keep a smile o of my face. “Why would Dering have a reason to kill his own clients?”

The intern shrugs before bending her head again. “I don’t know. Motive isn’t really my thing. I never studied that in school. It was mostly bones, tendons, and nerves, you know?”

“That is what doctors ordinarily focus on.”

“Right. Anyway, I thought I’d go over the rest of the files tonight if that’s all right with you. I’ll write up a report tomorrow or the next day.”

“That’s fine. You can go study the files now, if you like. I can finish up here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. The cause of death is fairly clear by the blue around his lips. The alveoli has collapsed and there is swelling in the lungs.”

“Yeah, I figured it was cardiac arrest caused by lack of oxygen, too, but I wasn’t sure if that happened before or after he got dumped in the water.”

“After, likely, but we’ll see by the blood samples and how much salt is in his blood.”

“Cool. Okay, let me get back to the files.” The intern strips o her gloves and scurries over to the corner where the files are laid out. I take out the lungs and weigh them, take a blood sample to be sent to toxicology, and then finish

up the physical examination. Once the report is completed, I step out to call Angel.

“How is your day?” I ask.

“It’s going. This trial is so boring. It’s a slip and fall on ice and I’ve heard way too much about salt on the sidewalks.”

“Should I come and declare a state of emergency and steal you away?”

She sighs. “I wish, but at least we’re having a long lunch.

I don’t have to be back for forty-five minutes and the judge has to leave early.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll pick you up from the courthouse. Just text me when you’re ready to go.”

“But I drove this morning.”

“I know, but I’d like to pick you up. I’ll take you back in the morning or we can have someone from the police department drive the car home for you. Now, tell me what you’re having for lunch.”

“Ham and Swiss on a bagel from Bev’s Cafe. What are you having?”

“I’d like to say you, but, unfortunately, a protein bar. I have to do another autopsy. Has Dering been around you today?”

“No. I haven’t seen him.”

“Stay away, if you do. Or call me if he is near.”

“Why?” She’s alarmed. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Nothing specific.” I don’t want to scare her. “And nothing that would indicate that you are in danger. I just don’t like him.”

“I don’t like him either. He does give me the creeps.”

And I have the perfect solution for that. “I’d say you have very good instincts but you married me, so your judgment is somewhat flawed,” I tease.

“Ha! Marrying you shows that I have superior judgment.

You marrying me also shows how smart you are.”

“I’m glad we’ve established that we’re both brilliant.”

“I know, right? I guess I should go because I have to eat this sandwich or my stomach will growl in the middle of questioning.”

“Text me when you’re finished,” I remind her. “I love you.”

“Love you too, babe.” After I hang up, I dial Lee. “My intern has discovered something that you should come and see.”

“Oh? Tell me,” he orders.

“Come and see.”

Lee and Sanchez burst into the examining room five minutes later. They’re both out of breath.

“What is it?” they chorus.

The intern swings around and glares. “What are you doing here?”

“I invited them,” I say before the detectives reprimand the young woman for her irritation.

“But I’m not done,” she wails. “I’ve got at least fifteen more cases to go through.”

I take another look at the stack of folders. Have I really killed that many? I don’t remember them all.

“You’re not done?” Lee echoes. “You called us down here and you’re not done?” His thick brows beetle together to form one long hairy caterpillar. His dark eyes glower.

I step away from the body I’m examining and strip o my gloves. “Flora has discovered a connection between twelve of the cases. That’s almost a third of all of the files you have here. I thought you may want to be aware of them so you can adequately protect the citizens of our city.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sanchez says sharply.

She puts her hands on her hips and joins Lee in glaring at

me.

I scoop up the files that the intern had set aside and carry them over to the detectives. “Tell them what you shared with me earlier,” I say.

Flora licks her lips nervously. “Okay, but like I said, I haven’t gone through all the cases yet, but those files and these two”--she nods her head toward a small pile to the left of her--”all share one similarity.”

“Which is?” Sanchez says impatiently.

“They all had the same defense attorney. Dering. Chad Dering.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN ANGEL

M Y MIND DRIFTS OFF TO LAST NIGHT AND ALL THE THINGS L UCAS DID to my body. Over the past few days we couldn't keep our hands o each other. We’ve always had a very active sex life but this is a whole new level. My body has a sweet ache from it. I love that when I shift or move around I can still feel my husband from the night before. I’d been worried at first that Lucas hadn’t enjoyed showing me his rougher side but the past few days have put those worries to bed.

I fish out my phone and send Lucas a text that I’m all done. He’s so excited to see me that he can’t even wait until we both get home. He sends back a text instantly letting me know he’s on his way.

I take the side door out of the courthouse wanting to grab my coat that I left inside my car. It was warm today but the weather changed quickly. There is a chill in the air already and with the wind picking up, I’m guessing that it could be freezing by tomorrow morning. I pause when a funny feeling slips up my spine. My skin prickles, causing the hair on my arms to stand up. I glance around the full parking lot. Almost

every parking spot is taken but no people linger about. Still, I feel as though someone is watching me. I shake o the feeling, making my way over to my car and pocketing my phone as I find my key to unlock the door.

Opening the back door, I grab my coat from where I’d tossed it along the seat.

“Angel.” I let out a small scream as I jump back, turning around to see Chad standing right there. He’s so close that I bump into him. He grabs my shoulders, making sure that I don’t fall. My body sti ens from the contact with his hands.

He tries to pull me into him but I back up, almost falling back into my car. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He gives me that smile that makes my skin crawl. I still don’t get how he’s a ladies’ man.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on women like that.” I scold him the best I can, watching him like a hawk. Even though we are in an open parking lot, there's no one around and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit nervous on the inside. I keep my body language relaxed but I’m anything but. I know it was him that I felt watching me. Him approaching me is no coincidence, no matter what he says. He planned this.

“I didn't sneak. There a reason you’re so jumpy?” he asks. “Are things okay at home?”

My mouth falls open. I’m not one to curse but this asshole is getting on my last nerve. The fact that he would even insinuate that has me wanting to smack his face.

“Are you implying that-” “I’m not implying anything, Angel.” I hate the way he says my name. He always makes it sound like he’s calling me a term of endearment and not actually my real name.

“You’re just jumpy, so it worried me is all.”

“You’re worried about me?” I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my tone. He should be worried about all the people he’s gotten o over the years. The criminals who are likely out in

the world doing bad things when they should be in prison.

I’m not even sure prison would be enough for some of the things Chad’s clients have done.

I know this is how the law works but sometimes it seems really freaking unfair. He’s wasted enough of my time with his stupid games. I move to get past him but he doesn’t budge. He’s not touching me but he is blocking my path. I try again but he shifts his body to block me in.

“You can tell me anything, Angel.” That cocky smile appears on his lips and worry settles in my stomach.

“I want you to move.” I get my voice under control, making sure it sounds firm. I try to keep the fear out of it.

For some reason I think he’ll enjoy that he’s frightened me.

That he holds some kind of power over me and I don’t want to give that to him.

“I know your husband can fly o the handle if provoked.”

He puts his hand down on top of my car, fully caging me in now. “He likes to live up to his name Dr. Death.”

I’m guessing Lucas paid Chad a visit after I told him that he was making me feel uncomfortable. I should be shocked but I am finding that my husband can be provoked. I’d been doing my own provoking and I’m enjoying it.

“If you truly believed that you wouldn’t be here right now,” I throw back at him.

“I told you. I was worried about you.” He keeps that fake smirk planted on his face. I’ve never in my life wanted to smack someone before. Right now I’d give anything to do it.

“I think you should worry about yourself. My husband-” I let out a gasp when Chad goes flying away from me. His body slams into the car next to mine before falling to the ground.

“Angel. Are you okay?” Lucas cups my face. His eyes are filled with worry but there is something else lurking behind them. Anger. He’s trying to hide it but I see it.

“I’m okay. He just scared me is all.” Lucas turns, I’m sure to go after Chad, but I grab him by the arm to stop him.

“I’ll have your job!” Chad sputters, rubbing the back of his head. It’s then I realize that Lucas threw Chad into his fancy sports car that is now rocking a giant dent in the side.

“Cameras,” I whisper under my breath. They are all over most of the parking lots. I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that I would enjoy watching my husband nail Chad right in the face but where would that get us? Lucas would really be out of a job then.

“Stay down,” Lucas tells Chad, who is trying to get to his feet. Lucas takes a step toward him. Chad tries to back away but falls on his ass again with his head hitting the car. I have to fight not to laugh.

“Come on, Angel.” Lucas takes my hand, leading me over to his car, which is parked behind mine, the driver’s side still open. He pulls my door open for me to get in. Chad starts to shout again. Lucas shuts my door before turning toward Chad, who has finally made it to his feet. He stops talking as he puts his hands up and takes a step back. I know it has to be the look on Lucas’ face that has scared him quiet. He comes around the car, getting in and driving away.

“Lucas.” I say his name softly.

“Are you okay?” he asks me again.

“I’m fine,” I reassure him. How can I not be fine when Lucas is right here with me? He looks over at me.

“I need to fuck you.” I clench my thighs together, instantly getting turned on.

“Then drive faster.” I smile. Chad was right. Lucas is a di erent man when he is provoked. I rather enjoy both sides of my husband.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN LUCAS

“T AKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES ,” I ORDER .

“I’m too tired.” Angel throws herself down on the bed, flinging an arm over her head.

“Bullshit. I know your panties have been wet since we got into the car. I’m putting away my shoes and when I get back, you better be wearing nothing but your pretty smile.” I stomp over to the closet and start stripping.

There are no sounds of any kind of movement behind me.

I guess someone needs a heavy hand tonight and that’s perfectly fine with me, because seeing Chad breathing the same air as Angel has my blood boiling.

When I leave the walk-in, my suspicions are confirmed.

Angel hasn’t moved—not even a fucking inch. I reach back in and grab my belt. I’m going to lay a pretty stripe down her spectacular ass for this outright disobedience.

I fold the leather onto itself and then slap it against my hand. The sound makes her flinch, but she doesn’t reach even a finger to pull her clothes o .

I walk over to the bed and yank open the drawer. Some people keep guns by their nightstands, but I’m a doctor. We use knives.

Inside is a hunting knife with a very sharp blade. It takes one quick movement to flay open her sweater.

Her eyes fly open. “Did you just cut my sweater?”

I slide the knife underneath the waistband of her pants.

“Be very careful and don’t move. I don’t want you to be nicked by the blade. You know it’s very sharp.”

She sucks in a breath—and I slice through the waistband as if it was butter.

“The pants have a zipper,” she says.

“And you have fingers but neither of them work.” I place a knee on the mattress next to her and pull the ruined pieces of clothing o . My hard cock bobs eagerly in the cool night air.

“Oh, look, he’s happy to see me,” Angel coos.

I knock her hand away. “Nope. You don’t get to touch.”

“Why not?” She pouts.

“Because you’ve been a bad girl and need to take your punishment first.” I pinch a bare nipple.

She squirms under my grip, squeezing her legs together as a jolt of excitement travels from that hard nub directly to her sex. I reach over her to set the blade back inside the drawer and feel a pair of soft hands grasp my dick. I shove the drawer shut and pull away. “I told you no touching.”

The lower lip juts out even farther. “But it was right there and you’ve got some cum on it. Don’t you want me to lick it o ?”

My cock throbs in anticipation, but she needs to be punished so I can’t give in. Not just yet. “You can either suck me o or I get to control your orgasms, which means you don’t come until I tell you to come. If you disobey me, I’m

striping your ass with this.” I point to the belt lying beside her.

She sucks in her lower lip. It’s a real dilemma because she’s super sensitive and enjoys coming multiple times a night. If she chooses this as punishment she knows I’ll drive her to the brink again and again without giving her any relief. I push her legs apart and shove my fingers inside her wet pussy.

“Uhhh,” she gasps at the intrusion. Her cunt grips me hard. The walls flutter around me as I jack my hand against her. Her eyes flutter shut and her hips rise up as she starts to ride me. An orgasm is already knocking at her door. It shows in the tense line of her body, the way her skin is tight across her cheekbones, the flush spreading across her fine tits. I wrench my fingers out of her.

Her eyes snap open and she glares. “I was about to come!” ”You haven't told me your decision. Do you want my cock in your throat or do you want me to control your orgasms?”

“I want both,” she whines.

“Guess I’m going to make myself come.” I wrap my cumsoaked fingers around my shaft and work my cock from base to tip, using her cunt juice as lube. The thwapping sound of my hand against my cock fills the room. Her eyes are riveted.

She licks her lips. A moan escapes. She wants the dick bad but she doesn’t know if she wants it in her mouth or in her pussy. She also isn’t sure how long she can last without orgasming. I keep rubbing myself. In a few seconds, I’ll be painting her tits with my cum.

“Mouth. I’ll take you in my mouth.”

I stop and motion with my chin for her to get on her knees. “Hands behind your back,” I order. “Since this is a punishment you don’t get to touch me.”

“This isn’t fair,” she complains, but she does as I order. I want to come so bad I’m dizzy. My vision blurs for a second as she kneels. She flattens her tongue and opens her mouth, a naked supplicant waiting for her o ering.

“Wider,” I order in a hoarse voice. I pinch the base of my dick to drive the orgasm away. If I don’t get some control, I won’t last but three seconds.

She stretches her mouth open wide but even then it’s hard to get my thick shaft past her lips. She gasps and then gags slightly as my head hits the back of her throat. “Easy, girl,” I soothe. “Open up for me.”

She swallows and my head goes down into that tight, narrow space. She won’t be able to talk much tomorrow. Her throat will be sore. So will her ass and her cunt when I’m done with her.

“You belong to me, Angel. No one else gets to touch you.

No one else gets to smile at you. No one else breathes near you. Do you hear me? Nod if you understand.”

She bops her head slightly, the move making my dick slide even further down the restricted channel.

“That’s right. You belong to me. I own you.” I start to move, slowly, because she’s vulnerable here. My dick scrapes against her throat, filling her up. I place my hand around her neck and feel myself moving inside of her. This is possession. She’s mine. Mine. “When you pledged yourself to me, you gave me the right to destroy anything or anyone that threatens our bond. I’m going to come down your throat and then I’m going to fuck your pussy until you can’t stand straight. Do you hear me?”

She nods again. I throw my head back and thrust, letting the orgasm barrel out of me, letting the cum spill down her throat. I pull out and cover her throat and tits with my seed.

Grabbing her by her chin, I raise her up until her mouth is

level with mine. “There is nothing I won’t do—nothing—to keep you safe.”

“I know.” The admission comes out on a shaky breath.

I seal my mouth to hers, seal our promise to each other. I was born for one reason and that is to protect Angel. I will not fail in this.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ANGEL

I STARE OUT THE WINDOW WATCHING THE SNOWFALL . L UCAS HAS already been gone a few hours. He got called into work. I am hoping that it is nothing major that will have him gone for too long. My body still aches from our lovemaking.

I’m not sure what has changed but whatever it is, I hope it stays this way. It’s made me feel closer to Lucas, which I didn’t think was possible. Our bond has always been strong but this has made it even stronger.

I’ve always loved Lucas. From the moment I met him he’s been my everything. I didn't know I could fall more in love with him but with each day I find that I do. I feel closer to him now than ever. He has pulled something out from inside of me that I didn't know was there. He’s proven to me that he really will do anything to make me happy.

You belong to me. I own you.

My nipples harden, thinking about those words he’d said to me. I do belong to him but hearing him say it awakened something deep within me. Seeing the look in his eyes as he

uttered those words of possession had my whole world feeling as though it had tipped over.

To me they were as sweet as when he’d first told me he loved me. They were just as special as when he’d said I do and we vowed to spend our lives together. Some people may not understand it, but that’s how I feel about him claiming me.

I turn from the window, heading for the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. I am never going to get this hat done if I don't start working on it. Winter will be over before Lucas even gets a chance to wear it. That is probably for the best.

Knowing my husband he’d still wear it even if it looks horrible. He’d smile, give me a kiss and wear it until it fell apart, which I’m sure wouldn’t take long, due to my lack of hat making skills.

Adding more marshmallow to the top of my hot chocolate, I head to the living room to sit in Lucas’ recliner while I knit. A knock at the door has me turning to look at the clock. It’s pretty late for someone to be visiting. My sister would have called if she was on her way over. My heart drops as I rush to the door.

My husband isn’t a cop but sometimes things go bad at a crime scene. People are crazy and you never know what could happen. Worry fills my stomach as my pace picks up. I fling open the door to see Detectives Lee and Sanchez standing there.

“What happened? Where is Lucas?” My eyes fill with tears. “Is he okay?”

“Ma’am.” Lee looks at me with a perplexed look.

“Lucas is fine.” Sanchez elbows Lee. “She thinks something happened to her husband. Two cops at your door late at night is never a good sign.”

“Oh. Sorry Mrs. Calvery. I’m sure Lucas is fine. We actually are here to talk to you.”

“You know you can call me Angel.” I wipe my eyes, feeling the weight of the world lift o my shoulders. I’ve never thought about losing Lucas before. I’m not sure that is something I could handle or want to think about. There is so much bad in the world that Lucas is the one person that I can always count on to put a smile on my face at the end of a shitty day.

“Angel.” Lee nods. “Can we have a moment of your time?”

“Of course.” I step back, opening the door. “Can you guys do me a favor and not tell Lucas that I opened the door without looking?” I tease. Well, it’s kind of a tease. He’d redden my ass if he knew that I randomly opened the door without identifying who was on the other side first. He’s always so worried about my safety. “Actually you can tell him.” Lee gives me another one of those perplexed looks.

“Co ee.” I change the subject as I open the door wider, motioning for them to come into the living room. They follow behind me, closing the door behind them.

“No thanks, Angel.” Sanchez looks around our home, her eyes scanning the place. “Nice place you have here.” It is a very nice place. Lucas is good with money. The man is good at anything he puts his mind to.

“Thank you.” I take a seat on the edge of the recliner.

Both of them sit on the sofa facing me.

“Where is the doc?” Lee looks around. I start to say at work but wouldn't they know that? Maybe not.

“He stepped out for a moment.” I fold my hands into my lap.

“Chad Dering,” Sanchez finally says. I cringe at the man’s name. Of course that’s why they’re here. My husband assaulted him in a parking lot full of cameras. Would it really be considered assault? I had been frightened. Chad had basically been holding me against my will. He wouldn't move

out of my way. If you ask me, he had it coming. I’m not so sure the laws would agree with me. I am finding that I don’t agree with a lot of them myself anymore either.

“I’m sorry, Angel, but I’ve got to ask.” I try not to fidget with my fingers. I can tell both detectives look as uncomfortable about this as me. “Has Chad ever made you feel uncomfortable?”

I lick my lips wondering why they aren't asking about the parking lot. They might be working their way into it. The thought of me needing a lawyer crosses my mind.

“Why would you ask me that?” I try and dodge the question with one of my own.

“To be frank with you, we’ve been looking into Chad. It’s come up that some people think he has a thing for you.

They’ve noticed some weird behavior on his part when it pertains to you.”

“Did Chad do something wrong?” I try not to sound too hopeful. The man should be behind bars. I don’t know why but I’m sure he’s done something. He is so unsettling. The way he cornered me against my car.

“We can’t really discuss that.” Sanchez shrugs, looking apologetic. I tell them the truth. About Chad seeming to be everywhere that I was. That he o ered me a job that I turned down. The way that he’d cornered me in the parking lot. I tell them everything except the part about Lucas throwing Chad into his car. I don’t tell them that. I don’t lie, I just conveniently leave that part out.

“Is there anything else you want to tell us?” Lee asks. I hate this. I don’t want to get Lucas in trouble, but I can’t tell how much they know.

“To be honest I don’t really want to talk about this without Lucas.” I drop my head, looking down at my hands, pretending to be shy and scared about all of this.

“I understand.” Sanchez stands. Lee follows suit.

“Thank you for your time.” Lee nods to me. I lead them to the door, saying goodbye and locking it behind them. I lean up against it wondering when Lucas will be home. I don't even know where he is and based on my conversation with Detectives Sanchez and Lee, they don’t either.

CHAPTER NINETEEN LUCAS

L EE AND S ANCHEZ ARE IN THE EXAMINATION ROOM WHEN I ARRIVE .

Sanchez is sprawled on my chair, toying with my mouse and Lee is spinning on one of the rolling stools. Since Angel told me that they stopped by, I knew they would be coming. I wasn’t sure what angle they were going to take. Are they accusing me or concerned about my wife?

“I heard you had a run-in with Dering the other day.

Want to tell us about it?” Chavez says, not even waiting for me to hang up my coat.

“He was in my wife’s space and didn’t need to be.” I place my leather jacket on the hook and shrug on my lab coat.

“You hit him.”

“You’re free to book me on assault.” The inventory of bodies appears to have increased by two overnight. The new additions are elderly, arrivals from the Good Life retirement home. I’ll have the intern work on these since there’s a car accident victim that needs to be completed.

“It’s not a good look for the county coroner to be attacking a prominent defense attorney. It could be brought

up during cross-examination and make you look less impartial.” Sanchez is stalling. She’s not literally wringing her hands, but she doesn’t like being here and asking questions of me. But she brings up a valid concern. I hadn’t thought of it and I admit that. “I wasn’t thinking of anything but that my wife was being harassed. Should that be brought up in court, too?”

Sanchez grimaces. “Look, I don’t want to ask—“ “We don’t want to ask,” Lee interjects. He leans forward, placing his hands on his knees. “But we have to.”

“Or we wouldn’t be good detectives,” adds Sanchez.

I pull the car victim out of the cooler. Sanchez and Lee both turn away as the smell escapes the sealed unit.

Lee puts a finger against his nose, but Sanchez braves the smell. “The thing is while a number of the victims were represented by Dering, he’s not a surgeon. Based on statements from his housekeeper, Dering can’t wield a butter knife, let alone one of these.” She holds up a scalpel.

“I’m very good with the scalpel.” In another life, maybe I would’ve been a surgeon, but I chose this route instead. It’s the best of both worlds. I get to avoid the pesky practice of dealing with live humans and I can wield my blade.

“Yeah, you are.” Lee’s head jerks up. “Wait, are you confessing?”

“To being good with the knife?” I reach over and pluck the scalpel out of Sanchez’s hands and drop it onto a tray of used instruments ready for sterilization. “It would be foolish for me to lie about that. You’ve watched me work.”

“Yeah.” The two detectives engage in an unspoken battle as to who will ask me the most uncomfortable question. Lee loses.

He sighs and steeples his fingers together. “The other night after the acquittal of Mr. Washington, you weren’t home. Where were you?”

I unzip the body bag, trying to act as natural as possible.

They hadn’t asked this question, not specifically, of Angel.

Maybe they wanted to but knew she’d refuse to discuss me without being present so they didn’t know what story I’d told her—that I’d been out of town to do an autopsy on another body.

It wasn’t technically a lie. I had been working on another body, just not out of town.

“Am I to account for every night or just the one of Mr. Washington’s death?”

“Every night that a victim died would be great,” Sanchez says. I don’t know if she’s serious or sarcastic.

“I’ll look at the calendar and get back to you.” It looks like I’ll have to pay a visit to Chad earlier than I thought. My calendar is not something that I care to share with the two detectives.

“Great. When should we expect it?”

“Tomorrow.” They both look surprised. “It’s on the computer. It won’t be hard to print it out.”

“Right. Sounds great.” Sanchez gets to her feet with enough carelessness that the chair knocks against the desk and the monitor flickers on. She taps her fingers on the wooden top. “Care to print it out now?”

There’s a hint of challenge in her voice, as if she thinks I won’t. I abandon the body and walk to the computer. She watches as I type in my password, which I’ll change when they leave. Lee crowds me from the other side.

“Usually I like to be taken out to dinner before I’m fucked,” I say as I print out my calendar for the last month.

“I’ll bring you a sandwich for lunch.” Sanchez snatches the paper from the printer. “Thanks for this. We’ll get you cleared from our suspect list as soon as possible, Doc.” “I’ll be on tenterhooks until you do.” I rise and lean against my desk, looking as unconcerned as possible.

The moment the door shuts, I text Angel. Lee and Sanchez have asked me for an alibi for Washington’s death. I printed out my calendar.

Her: Who cares how he died? He was awful. He killed his wife.

I can’t believe he got o !

My fingers hover over the screen. Sometimes I think Angel is as bloodthirsty as me. There is a feralness to her, particularly in bed. She wants me to be brutal with her, to face fuck her until her tears come or to jack into her tight pussy until she’s screaming. Enjoying a little spice in the bedroom isn’t the same as sanctioning murder.

Academically, she probably does like the idea of justice coming to Washington’s door. On the other hand, she doesn’t want her husband to be dirtying his hands in that mess.

Lee and Sanchez care, I type.

That’s their job. Not mine. Anyway, can I call you?

I dial her immediately. “What is it? Dering?”

“No. No,” she reassures me. “My sister wants me to stay over tonight. I know it’s out of the blue, but she said she’s feeling down and wants some company.”

“If she needs you, you should go but I’ll miss you. I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“I’ll miss you too. I promise to make it up to you tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late, though, okay? I’ll worry about you.”

“I’ll be in bed with my hand on my dick, waiting for your return.”

She laughs. “Okay. I like that thought. It’ll be a nice image tonight.”

“Call me or text me. Anytime.”

“I will. Love you Lucas.”

“I love you, too.” I toss the phone into my pocket. The timing is perfect. Almost too perfect if Angel knew the things

I did. But I can’t dwell on it. Tonight will be the night that Chad Dering kills himself...with a little assist from me.

CHAPTER TWENTY ANGEL

“I’ M THINKING ABOUT QUITTING MY JOB .” G INA LOOKS UP AT ME from the kitchen island where she is sitting. Knitting supplies are taking up most of the space, giving me little room to make the triple chocolate cake she requested.

I knew when she called and told me that she was craving it that she must have had a horrible date the night before.

My sister has the worst luck with men. She always jokes and says that I used all of it up when I’d met Lucas. Not leaving any behind for her.

I jumped at the chance to come over to spend time with her tonight. Not that I wouldn't have come whenever she asked, but I pushed to stay the night this time.

My husband is up to something. I can feel it. I have no clue what it is, but I can’t ignore this feeling. I don’t know for sure but I also don’t want him lying to me. Ignorance is often bliss.

When it comes to Lucas, I don’t mind being a bit ignorant because whatever it is that’s going on, I trust in what he’s doing. If he wanted to tell me then he would. If he’s not

telling me it’s for good reason and what he thinks is for the best.

“I thought you loved your job?” She puts her knitting needles down, taking a sip from the hot chocolate I made her.

“For so long, I believed that the law always made things right. That it gave justice to the victims that had been wronged. That following it is crucial to having a good society. But lately, I’m just not so sure that I agree with that anymore.”

Court sucked today. I watched as a woman had to plead for a restraining order on her abusive boyfriend. I mean he’d threatened to kill her, yet I watched the judge waver on whether or not she should give it to her.

My blood started to boil watching everything unfold.

Finally they gave it to her. Still, what is the woman going to do when her crazy boyfriend shows up at her home again?

Throw the paper at him? It is all a bunch of bullshit and I’m not sure I’m cut out for it anymore.

I know there is nothing that I could do about it. It was my job to sit there and account for every word that was said. My opinions and thoughts don’t matter. It has become very wearing on me. I don’t leave my job at the door. It comes home with me.

“I’m going to tell you something Dad once told me.” I put the chocolate-covered spatula down. I’m going to need more frosting. “Just because something is a law or the norm for other people it doesn't mean you have to abide by those rules. Sure you could get in trouble if you broke some of them. But it doesn't mean you have to believe in them. There is nothing wrong with that. You didn't make those rules.

Someone else did. You set your own moral compass, Angel.

No one else.”

I walk over to the pantry, grabbing another thing of frosting and thinking over her words. I’ve never thought about it like that before.

“So I’m not terrible for being happy when someone dies that I believe was a horrible person?”

“No, I have a few exes that I wouldn't mind if they kicked the bucket,” she jokes, going back to knitting.

A lot of people that have graced my courtroom have gone missing or ended up dead. I thought it was the world's way of fixing the wrong that the system didn't get right. Nothing is a coincidence. How many times has my own husband told me that? How many times did he have to leave in the middle of the night?

I shake the thoughts from my head. It is his job. Of course he gets called away in the middle of the night. Death happens at all hours of the day. The bigger question is why doesn't it bother me to think that my husband might be up to something other than work?

If I know anything about Lucas it’s that he hates when I’m upset. If something is bothering me that man makes it his mission to fix it. He loves me more than anything. I’ve never doubted that.

Something in our relationship has changed in the past few months. A deeper connection has been growing. Both of us have been showing sides of ourselves to one another that we had kept locked away deep down inside of us.

“You’ve got to let me set you up with someone. You clearly have the worst taste in men.”

“I think I’m going to give up. You’ll have to be the one to give our parents grandbabies. I bet I’ll be a kickass aunt anyways.”

I finish frosting the cake. “You’re going to let me set you up with someone.”

“You had an even worse dating history than me before Lucas came along,” she reminds me. I cringe thinking about it. I don’t blame her. Before Lucas I’d given up on dating, too.

“Yes, but right before I found Lucas I, too, was going to quit the whole dating thing. Now look at me.” I smile. I might not be happy with my job at the moment but the one thing I know I’ll never waver on is my love for Lucas. That man is my everything. He can do no wrong and even if he did, it would be because he had just reason in doing so.

“So maybe that’s the key. I should stop looking.” I grab a plate, cutting her a piece of cake before getting myself one. I needed this tonight. Some girl time with her. Even though I tell Lucas everything, I didn’t want to worry him about how unhappy I’ve been at work.

“I could ask Lucas. He might have someone in mind for you.”

“I prefer my men to be alive.” I laugh, almost choking on my piece of cake. I prefer my man alive, too. Some others not so much. I take another bite of my cake, wondering what Lucas is up to right now. I should text him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE LUCAS

I T ’ S FIFTEEN PAST TEN WHEN MY A NGEL ALERT GOES OFF . I EASE OFF the rope of Chad’s neck. “Saved by the literal bell,” I joke and get to my feet.

Miss you babe. Hope you’re not eating all the Doritos. I know you eat like hell when I’m not there.

I’ve decided against eating until you return.

I never eat while I’m working.

“Are you fucking texting someone?” Chad rasps from his chair behind his desk. We’re in his home o ce and it’s very cozy with dark paneling, a large wooden desk and a window with a privacy panel. There’s a large sofa across from the desk. The blue light I ran over it before Chad got home showed a number of fluids on the surface. I avoided it.

I spare him a slight glance away from my screen. “I am.”

“What kind of sick motherfucker are you? You killed Washington, didn’t you?”

“No. That was you.” I tap my gloved finger against the envelope I brought. “You’ve killed approximately thirty

people for the last ten years or so. A very busy man you’ve been.”

“That’s bullshit. I’ve never killed a person in my entire life.”

“You’re right. This list doesn’t even begin to enumerate your o enses and the people you hurt. After you got o the pedophile from Martin County, he went on to molest three other children. The abuser you got acquitted in Capital City killed his wife and two kids.”

“How are those deaths my fault? I was just doing my job!”

“And so am I.” Shakespeare was right. To start with, we should kill all the lawyers.

The one my mom hired to get her away from her abuser did no good. I let him live but killed the man who hurt her.

The man’s death was the only one I hadn’t planned. I was young with a bad temper and hadn’t paid enough attention in biology class to realize I could kill someone with a blow to the head. It was that man’s death that sent me back to the books.

Can I ask what you’re doing so I don’t worry?

I cock my head and study Chad. How should I explain myself to Angel so that she can sleep well tonight? There’s sweat pouring o his face and his eyes are slightly pronounced. His hands dangle uselessly at his sides. This is one of the dullest ways to kill someone and for Chad, a man who has harassed my wife and made her afraid to walk out to her car, an easy death. I should be pounding his face in with his golf cleats until his chin turns to mush. I can’t, though, because it’d be obvious he didn’t kill himself.

I’m cleaning house.

Don’t work too hard.

I won’t. I love you. I add a heart emoji for emphasis.

I love you. Be safe.

I tuck the phone back into my pocket and grab the coil of rope on my way back to Chad.

He jerks away and blabbers, “I’m sorry I talked to your wife. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

I crouch down in front of him. “For a famed defense attorney, you aren’t being very persuasive. You’ve said that fifty-two times tonight.”

“You’re a sick fuck,” he cries as I place the rope around his neck. “Why are you tormenting me? Just get it over with.”

Hand around the knot, I pause before tightening it and say, “Before you were pleading with me not to hurt you and promised me a lot of money if I would let you go.”

“Money isn’t working, is it? Tell me what it is that you want. You want a girl you can knock around? You have a kink you need to work out, I can find someone. No matter what it is.”

“What if it’s this?” I jerk the noose tight.

Chad’s eyes water. “Yeah. Yeah,” he chokes out.

“Not interested. I have everything I need and you’re endangering it. You should’ve never talked to my wife. Never looked at her. Never touched her. Those are the rules.” I rise, dragging his body with me. He’s forced to stand, his feet scrambling to find purchase but Chad spends more time on his ass and he’s got no strength.

“You never told me. If I had known—“ The rope cuts him o . I whip it over the beam in his ceiling and pull it down, wrenching his body up. He makes some noise, probably more threats and promises, which I ignore. As if I needed to tell anyone what the rules are.

Angel’s got a ring on her finger. I made my claim years ago.

Before leaving, I double-check everything with my blue light, stick the suicide note in the top drawer for the good detectives to find and leave.

As the door closes behind me, I text my wife.

Am going to bed. Sleep well. I love you.

She doesn’t text back but it doesn’t matter. I strip o the gloves and burn them half way to my car that I parked a mile away. The rubber smells acrid, but the biodegradable gloves disintegrate quickly, leaving only a pile of ash. My e orts to make our o ce more green pay o in so many ways. I return home, quickly wash and then get into the car. It takes only a short time before I’m out in front of Angel’s sister’s house.

The lights are out. I check the front door and am pleased to find it’s locked. The back door is secured, too. Reassured with my wife’s safety, I climb back into the car, lower the seat and close my eyes.

Angel is safe. The suicide letter confesses to the killings, complete with details that aren’t in the files. There is no evidence, other than the bodies. Sanchez and Lee will have to apply to have those bodies exhumed, but the counties won’t want to pay for it. Instead, the prosecutors will be happy with the confession and the cases will be closed. Perhaps they will always suspect me but there won’t be anything they can do. Some people need killing and so I will be there to render the judgment that the courts and the police can’t. I’m only keeping the balance—and my wife safe.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO ANGEL

“L UCAS .” I CALL MY HUSBAND ’ S NAME AS I ENTER THROUGH THE SIDE door of the house. I’d forgotten my briefcase and was already running late. I was a little surprised he hadn’t left for work already.

“Angel.” He comes strolling in the kitchen dressed for work in a pair of slacks and simple button-up shift.

“Forgot this.” I grab my bag from o the chair, setting it on the bar stool.

“I was about to text you about it. You know I would have brought it to you.” He walks over, pulling me into his arms, kissing me. “Missed you last night. It’s hard to sleep without you.” I smile against his mouth. I don’t ask if it was his car I saw early this morning parked a little ways down from my sister’s.

I think the whole Chad thing has him on edge. I’m finding my husband can become a whole other person when it comes to me. It should likely scare me but it does the opposite. It makes me feel protected and loved.

“We can make it up tonight. Unless you’re working late.”

I try and hide the disappointment that he might be working late tonight. I know we only spent one night apart but I miss him. I always enjoy catching up with my sister but I love being home with Lucas.

“I promise I’ll be home tonight.” He cups my face, tilting my head back to kiss me deeply. I sigh into his mouth. My bag drops from my hands as I start to wrap around him. With a grunt, Lucas pulls back from our kiss. You’d think we’d been apart for months with the way we’re acting, not just one night.

“I'd take you on the counter right now, Angel, but I know you don’t like being late for work.”

“Crap!” Lucas bends down, picking up my bag for me. “I love you.” I give him a quick peck before I dash for the door.

“Don’t speed!” I hear him bark behind me. I jump into the car, luckily making it to court on time. The first hearing is slow and boring. I welcome it compared to some of the others we’ve had over the past few months. I look at my docket and cringe when I see Chad’s name on it. Dread fills me knowing that I’ll have to see him after our lunch break.

Lovely. I really need to talk to Lucas about finding another job. I know he’ll support me but for some reason I feel ashamed that I can’t hack it here. My husband spends his day dealing with death. All I have to do is listen to cases and record them. It’s nothing compared to what he has to do on a daily basis.

I pack up to drop my stu in Judge Barnes’ o ce like I do most days. She’s already in there eating the salad that she packed.

“Shut the door,” she tells me, wiping her mouth. “Court’s cancelled this afternoon.” Relief fills me. Not only do I get to go home early, I don’t have to see Chad. This would actually be the perfect time to sneak over to the pharmacy. I need to

pick up a pregnancy test. I’m late this month. Not by much but usually my period comes like clockwork. It’s probably delayed due to the work stress that I’ve been under but taking a test will let me know for sure. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what? I’ve been in court with you all day.” I laugh, coming over to sit down in the chair in front of her desk.

“Chad Dering killed himself last night.”

My stomach drops. “Killed himself?” I repeat. I didn’t think men like Chad killed themselves. They are too full of themselves to ever do something like that. Mary leans forward and I know she’s slipping more into friend mode than judge. Working together for years, it was hard to not become close. More so when we’ve had to listen to some of the worst cases together. We needed to lean on each other from time to time. I’m sure it’s against all kinds of rules but the things we say to one another never leave this room.

“They are saying he left a note behind. Confessing to some murders. Some of them were his own clients.”

“That’s--” I trail o because I don’t know how I feel about what Mary is telling me. I’ve always thought he was creepy but I never pinned him as a real murderer. I may have referred to him as one because he defended clients that did awful things, but I never thought he was running around killing people. It’s hard to wrap my mind around all of it. He killed his own clients.

“I’ve heard whispers they’d already been investigating him. There are a bunch of unsolved murders they are trying to piece together. I guess all of the victims weren't upstanding members of the community. All of them had committed crimes and gotten away without paying for them at all or completing light sentences. No one was really searching too hard to find out who might have killed them but they all started to add up.” This still doesn't add up to me, but what do I know? I’m not a detective.

“And Chad admitted in this letter it was him?”

“Something like that.” She shrugs. “I’m sure we’ll hear more soon. The news will be picking it up any minute now.”

Mary takes another bite of her salad, mumbling about how she won’t miss seeing him in her courtroom. That makes two of us. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I am somewhat relieved. That thought should make me feel bad because a life has been lost but it doesn’t.

“I’m going to head out for the day.”

“See you next week.” I grab my bag heading straight for my car. I swing by the pharmacy, grabbing the pregnancy test. I have no patience and end up taking it in the bathroom of the store. My mind goes over everything Mary had told me.

I still can’t imagine Chad as some vigilante. He wasn't a good man. A good man doesn't trap a woman against her car and scare her. If Chad didn't kill himself then who killed him? The list of possible suspects could be a mile long. Some of the people he’d gotten o for their crimes had enemies.

Mostly the families of the victims. They could’ve blamed him and exacted their own revenge.

My mind snaps back to my own husband. The look on his face the day I’d told him about Chad. The rage that came o him that day in the parking lot. If anyone could get away with killing someone and making it look like a suicide it would be Lucas. I look in the mirror of the bathroom. Do I believe that Lucas could do such a thing?

To protect me I think Lucas would do anything. That is one thing I’m certain of. Before I even look down at the test I know my life is about to change. I pick it up without looking, sliding it into my purse. I am going to the one place I know I can get answers.

My husband.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE LUCAS

“Y OU ’ RE HOME EARLY ,” I SAY AS A NGEL COMES THROUGH THE BACK door and into the kitchen. I take her bag and coat from her as she slips o her shoes.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear. Chad Dering killed himself last night.” She stops by the center island and drums her fingers on the countertop. “Don’t you think it’s odd?

He’s not really the type to take his own life. He loves himself way too much for that.”

“I haven’t given it much thought.” I hang up the jacket and set the bag on the desk nook just to the right of the refrigerator. From inside the icebox, I grab a pitcher of tea and carry it over to the counter.

“It’s not as if I spent a lot of time thinking about it either, but it just didn’t feel right.”

“Go with your gut,” I advise and pour her a glass.

She doesn’t take it. The wheels in her head are turning.

We’ve never really gotten close to this topic. I rub a hand across my jaw and wait for her questions. I don’t know how I should answer them. I don’t want to lie, but I can’t lose her. I

won’t lose her. Angel is my anchor in this life. When I saw her, I knew the reason for my existence was to love and cherish her. The things I did were because I wanted to create a better world for her.

“My gut says that last night Chad wasn’t the only one in his o ce when he died.”

“Does that bother you?”

Instead of answering that question, she asks another one.

“If I ask you questions, will you lie or will you tell me the truth?”

My hand is wet from the pitcher, but it could be sweat.

“What do you want?”

“The truth.” It’s stated plainly, without animosity or anger, which gives me some hope. Mild. My heart thumps faster.

“Then that’s what I’ll give you.” I peel my hand away from the pitcher and step back to lean my ass against the counter.

She takes a seat and folds her hands in front of her like she’s ready to start o cially recording each and every one of my responses. Usually in inquisitions, it’s the examiner standing and the suspect in the chair but she’s the one with power here. For all that she likes to be dominated in the bedroom, she holds me in the palm of her small hand. If she told me to kneel, I’d kneel. If she told me to take up the kitchen knife and dig my eyes out, I’d do it without a whimper. I love her. Not in any ordinary way. Not like two regular people love each other because she is not ordinary.

She’s the sexiest, smartest, funniest, wisest person I’ve ever had the good fucking fortune to meet. I need her like humans need oxygen. If I don’t have her in my life, I’ll die. That’s the simple result of a simple equation.

“When you go away, overnight to other counties, what are you doing?”

“Working,” I reply. Technically, getting rid of certain people is work. Killing is a calling of a di erent sort.

“Women?”

Hardly ever. I’ve only killed a couple women and those were injections. But that’s not what she’s asking. Have I ever fucked, thought of fucking, another woman? That’s an easy answer. “No.” “Children?”

“No!” Wait, maybe she was thinking about me and women in a di erent way. I backtrack. “To be precise, I’ve never touched a woman’s body that hasn’t been dead.”

It’s as close to a confession as I’ve made tonight or any night. Angel’s not dumb. She’ll put it together, especially since she has suspicions. I watch as she turns my answer over in her head. She comes to some decision then because she nods and then picks up her drink. As she downs the iced tea, I ask, “Is that it?”

“Those were the important questions. I don’t need to know any more.” She sets the glass down and approaches.

Her hand feels warm on my chest. I fold her against me, pressing her head against my chest. My heart beats slow and steady under her ear.

“Be careful,” she says. “I can’t lose you.”

“I’ve always been careful,” I reassure her. A huge breath of relief escapes me. I sweep a hand over her back. Angel feels small and fragile under my palm. She’s a capable and independent woman, but she also needs to be taken care of.

That needs to be my priority. “I can refrain from doing any extra work in the future.” Someone else will have to take care of the garbage in our counties. I need to be here for Angel.

“No. I’m not saying you should stop taking on extra work if you find it fulfilling. It’s sort of comforting to know that there’s someone out there that will take care of things. I’d

actually been contemplating quitting my job because it’s so frustrating to see people get o with a warning or a slap on the wrist and then go o and commit the same heinous crimes all over again. It’s not fair.”

“No. It’s not.” I hug her tightly. We’re on the same page-fully.

“But you’re more important to me than anyone so--” I place a finger to her lips. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m careful. Very careful.”

“There won’t always be a Chad,” she whispers.

“There is always a Chad, unfortunately. There is always someone who puts money before lives, but I hear you. I won’t ever leave you.”

Her arms climb up to wrap around my neck. “You better not.”

I press my lips to the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere. Better get used to me.”

“I am, silly. Isn’t that why I married you?”

“You married me because I have a big dick and don’t mind playing kinky games with you in the bedroom.”

She pulls away and slaps me across the chest. “That’s not true. I didn’t even know I liked kinky games until you started doing stu to me while we were--” she twirls her finger around.

“Spinning in circles? Drying clothes?” I pretend to guess.

“Ha ha.”

“What then? When did you know you liked the kinky stu ?” I tease. “Was it the first time I pinched your tits?” I reach out and tweak one. “Or was it when I made you get on your knees and shoved my big cock down your throat?”

She flushes, her eyes glittering. “I think it was when you wrapped that big hand around my neck and told me I couldn’t come until you told me to.”

“Ahhh,” I say. I reach out and cup her chin tight. “Since you didn’t call me to tell me you were coming home early, I think a punishment is in order.” The talk is over. She has the information she needs and has delivered the warning she’s been worrying about. Be safe. Don’t take chances but make the world a safer place. In return, I re-a rmed my vow to stay by her side because I won’t let even death part us.

EPILOGUE ANGEL

Five years Later I PUT THE FINISHING TOUCHES ON THE SALAD BEFORE PUTTING THE bowl into the refrigerator to hold over. I don’t know why I try and get these boys to eat their greens. It’s always a struggle and a lost cause even when I cover it in ranch and cheese, but still I try. I think the guilt eats at them sometimes because Lucas talks them into it when I’m not looking.

After all of these years, my husband will still do whatever it takes to make me happy. Even if it’s something as simple as getting our boys to eat their greens. Opening the oven, I check on the lasagna. The boys will be home any minute from soccer practice.

My parents are joining us tonight for dinner. I turn when I hear the back door opening, expecting to hear my boys come barreling down the hallway. A moment later Lucas is there. He’s still wearing his coach's jersey and whistle around his neck. He’s as handsome as ever. Maybe a little more while he’s wearing the uniform.

He walks over to me, picking me up by my ass and setting me on the counter. Before I can ask where our boys are, his mouth is on mine. I let out a moan. No matter how many times this man kisses me he can still take my breath away.

Our love has only gotten stronger over the years.

“Where are the boys?” I lick my lips.

“Your parents stopped by at practice. Wanted to take them to get ice cream before dinner.”

“I think you’re supposed to do that after dinner.” I laugh.

“I think that’s what grandparents are for. To spoil dinner and buy their grandchildren toys that drive us insane.”

“I hate that drum set and microphone.” I throw my head back and laugh. Okay. The drum set they got them last Christmas was bittersweet. It is so loud and obnoxious, but I have to admit how adorable it was when they started a band.

“How was practice?” My husband has the patience of a saint. Dealing with fifteen kids that are between four and five years old running around a soccer field is utter chaos. Like with most things, Lucas remains calm and collected through it all. At least that’s what he allows others to see. I’ve learned to read my husband much better over the years. I know that he is enjoying being a dad.

When I’d first told him that I was pregnant he freaked out a little. He tried to hide it. It didn't take me long to realize his worry was over the pregnancy in general. About me having to give birth. It didn’t help that he’d gone and knocked me up with twins. That had only heightened his fear of me giving birth.

“It smells good in here.”

“Lucas.” I wrap my hand around the cord that holds the whistle around his neck. “Don’t change the subject. I know my food smells wonderful.”

“It’s not the only thing that smells wonderful.” He smiles as he tries to steal a kiss. I use my other hand to cover his

mouth to stop him but he kisses my palm. He wraps his hand around my wrist as he lowers it. “You trying to get yourself in trouble, Angel? The boys are gone. There’s no one here to hear you scream my name.” My nipples tighten. My whole body lights up with excitement. This man can flip me on like a switch. He knows how to work my body better than I do.

“I always love being in trouble with you, Lucas.” I tilt my head, o ering him my mouth. He leans down to kiss me.

“After you tell me what you’ve done.” He lets out a hu . I don’t think it’s because he doesn't want to tell me. More like he wants to bend me over the counter and fuck me right this second. I’m sure he was thinking about it the whole way home after my parents took the boys with them.

“You’re losing very valuable fucking time,” I remind him.

His eyes widen a bit with desire. He gets a rise out of getting me to talk dirty.

“I asked him not to stare at what’s mine.” He nips at my ear. I giggle because I know that he did not ask Mr. Cooper anything. Lucas has been waiting for his opportunity to confront the man that couldn’t keep his eyes or his comments about me to himself. I knew it was only a matter of time before Lucas lost it. Lucky for Mr. Cooper that my husband has become a more patient man since having our boys.

“He wasn't even staring at me.” I feign innocence. Mr. Cooper is newly single. I am pretty sure his wife kicked him to the curb because of his wandering eyes. He is harmless for the most part. A good dad but a terrible husband. I’m sure Lucas scared the man straight without a drop of blood. Not that he needed a drop to make someone meet whatever maker they believed in.

“Now can I fuck my wife?” He grabs me by the hips, pulling me to the edge of the counter.

“I got you something.” I pick up the box sitting on the counter next to me that I wrapped earlier.

“The last time you gave me one of these it had a pregnancy test inside.”

“Would that bother you?”

“No. I saw how easy you made having the twins look. The fear of you being in pain or hurt wouldn’t be as overwhelming this time. You know I always worry about your safety first, Angel. If you want another, you know I’d give it to you. I’d do anything for you.” God, I love this man. I know without a doubt that he would do anything for me. Someone might think my husband is creepy. Scary even. I never did and I never will.

He is a man who would do anything to protect his family.

I understand now that there might be laws set in this world.

It doesn’t mean that we have to choose to live by them. I trust in my husband to always make the right choice in the things he does. I’ll always stand by his side.

“I’m not pregnant,” I admit. I have my hands full with all my men. I am happy with how our lives are. I wouldn't change a thing. Being at home with my boys and husband is where I belong. “Open the box.”

“It only took me five years but I think I finally got it.”

Lucas lifts the lid, pulling out the knitted hat I made for him.

“I love it.” He puts it on. I laugh because it looks terrible.

He lifts me from the counter, carrying me to our bedroom.

“You’re not wearing that hat while we have sex.” I laugh when he tosses me on the bed. He’s already stripping o his clothes. “Lose the clothes, Angel.”

I raise my chin. “Make me.”

He opens up the nightstand drawer, pulling out a scalpel.

He comes down over me, his scalpel easily cutting through my blouse. Next it slips into my bra, slicing through the silk fabric and causing my breasts to spill free.

“Oh I’m going to do a lot of things, Angel.” He gives me a wicked smile, that dark glint that I love so much in his eyes.

“The first one will be making you come.”

Like everything Lucas says, he holds true to his words.

This man is mine. He’d never leave my side. I never worry about him getting caught or about people finding out about our dirty secrets. Lucas would never allow it. I pity the person who tries to come between my husband and me.

Our love is and always will be killer.

I WAS hesitant to use the title KILLER LOVE but asked the readers of my Facebook group and they loved it. KILLER LOVE was the right title, wasn’t it? Next up is KILLER CRUSH and it might have a very loose connection to this story. Very loose.

I see so many of you loved Secret Baby. I loved it, too, so I’m going to write another story featuring—well, I’m keeping it a secret for now.

See ya later, luvs. Have a marvelous February.

Ella

ALSO BY ELLA GOODE Secret Baby Oh Snowy Night FU High: Ace of Hearts, Deuces Wild, and Two of a Kind Loyalty Card She’s the One & My Only One Spark Priceless Smooth Kisses, Sweet Kisses, Saved Kisses Finding Home & Bring Him Home Captured, Kept, Stolen Make Me Yours She’s All Mine Pretty Prize Three of Us (Twins #1) and Belong Together (Twins #2) Their Private Need (Michigan, Easy and Annie) His Bold Heart (Chelsea & Wrecker) Her Secret Pleasure Captive Ride The Last Christmas Present: Billionaire Holiday Romance (a Daddy story) The Wolf’s Mail Order Bride Beauty in Summer

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