“Sorry,” he murmured. Because he really was. She hadn’t spied on him like Mrs. Ellis had, or fought him like Mr. Smythe had. Or betrayed him like Nurse Gaynor had.

Or escaped and thrived like Gideon and Mercy had.

Stephanie Stack was just a first-grade teacher, who’d begun to shake her head, her “No, no, no” muffled by the tape.

At least he could make it quick. No need to make her suffer. He fired twice, checked her pulse, then went in search of something to drug Kowalski’s guard dog. Five minutes later, he had a six-month-old bottle of oxycodone and a pound of hamburger.

Finally something had gone to plan.

TWENTY-FOUR

GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA

SUNDAY, MAY 28, 7:30 P.M.

Tom ended the kiss and rested his cheek on the top of Liza’s head. His heart was pounding like it would come out of his chest. He felt giddy with relief and tightened his arms around her. It was like he’d been underground for years and had finally emerged to breathe fresh air.

She shifted her hips, and he groaned because, most of all, he was horny as hell. His body had been in stasis for so long. He’d desired her many times since they’d moved to Sacramento, but not like this. Not with this clawing, desperate need, like a raging river after the collapse of a dam.

“I want you,” he whispered and she made a noise so close to a whimper that his fingers flexed, digging into the firm muscles of her ass. “You have an amazing ass.”

She laughed. “Thank you. I must admit to having ogled yours a time or two.”

“Only a time or two?”

“A million times, or two,” she murmured.

His lips curved and he kissed her hair. “There are things I want to do with you—” He groaned again when she shivered hard, her hips lifting so that she was pressing against his erection. “Wait. Just . . . wait. I need to think.”

“No thinking. Time for doing.” She released her hold on his neck, slipping her fingers between them and unbuttoning three buttons before his brain reconnected to his mouth.

He gave her a short, hard kiss before turning from the wall where they’d been leaning.

“First door on the left,” she said huskily, then hummed when his feet stopped walking, his hips grinding against her of their own volition. “Mmm. You liked that.”

Tom didn’t think he was going to make it. “After,” he choked out.

She looked up at him with a frown. And a little hurt. “After what?”

“I think we should talk. Don’t you?”

Her lower lip poked out and he wanted to bite it. Just like he had every time she’d pouted since she was seventeen years old.

Now he could, so he did, tugging gently on her full lip with his teeth before following it up with a kiss that made her sigh dreamily. “You feel me,” he whispered against her now-upturned lips. “You know I want you. That I want this. But I want to do this right.”