Authors: Gemma James
Condemned (20 page)
Getting shot wasn't part of his plan, and dealing with a lodged bullet magnified his aggravation. A hospital would report the gunshot wound. He could wedge it out with a steak knife. And inflict nerve damage. And gouge an damned artery. Or he could drive to Mexico and pay a seedy doctor to take care of it.
Fucking Mexico.
Ahi vamos.
He tugged a disposable phone from his pocket and dialed.
"Yeah?" rasped the CTS Decon technician.
"Change of plans." Van had approached the professional cleaner a day earlier and offered a quarter of a million to discreetly and quickly mop up a crime scene. The blood was supposed to have been Mr. E's, the prearrangement to remove Van's DNA from the scene, and therefore, eliminate him as a murder suspect. Liv's bullet changed that. Now, she would have to deal with Mr. E on her own while the technician dealt with Van's blood.
He rattled off the address of his location. "Need this done by the end of the hour."
"On my way." The technician disconnected.
Now for the grueling part. He grit his teeth and dragged his body up the side of the counter, stars invading his vision. After a few long, ragged breaths, he finished the climb and stumbled to the medical kit beneath the sink.
As he collected bandages, he tried not to think about what Liv was doing, if she had killed his father, if he'd killed her. He pulled his shirt over his head and the damnable pain staggered him sideways.
He gripped the counter-top and panted through the blades of heat ripping up and down his arm. The pain was real, pushing his pulse and inflaming his skin. He was breathing, hurting. Alive.
With Liv and Livana's uncertain near future, he had a helluva incentive to live. And to avoid arrest. He draped his upper body over the sink, splashed water over the dime-sized wound, and taped up his shoulder. He needed a bottle of Tequila Herradura and long nap in the worst fucking way.
Blood smeared the counter, the cabinets, and the linoleum. He had no choice but to trust the expertise and discretion of the technician to erase all evidence of his existence. Hopefully, it would be enough to deceive detectives if they went hunting for DNA.
He dragged his feet to the kitchen table, each step heavier than the last. Two mannequins sat in the chair where he'd left them. When he reached them, he slid his fingers through their silken mahogany hair. Liv's hair. He'd collected it for years, meticulously weaving it through the mesh caps made for the dolls, one large, one small. His perfected replicas of Liv and Livana. No one could fucking take them away.
Liv didn't understand his need for the dolls. Only someone who'd experienced a lifetime of loneliness could comprehend what they meant to him and why he couldn't let them go.
With his arm hanging limp at his side, he gathered them under the other, careful not to overextend their joints, and carried them to the van in the garage.
Liv thought he was dead. If she succeeded in killing Mr. E, she would be free for the first time in seven years. Would she leave town and try to disappear, or would she stay in Austin, near their daughter? Either way, he'd find her. He'd always find her.
Copyright © 2014 Pam Godwin
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
You’d think after finishing a book, writing the acknowledgements would be easy, but I think this is the hard part. I owe so many people heaps of gratitude in the creation of this novel. Firstly, I want to thank the readers. Consider my mind truly blown over your enthusiasm of my work. Without you guys, I would just be a writer stringing together words that impacted no one. I love reading your emails and messages on Facebook, and I guess I have a sadistic streak because when you tell me you’ve lost sleep from reading something I wrote, I have to admit to being thrilled. I’ve been there many times myself. Drink a cup of coffee, or five, and think of me. Cheers to my fellow night owls! :)
And that brings me to betas and bloggers. Let’s call them the Amazing B’s. Huge thanks to the following bloggers for your support: Amber and the girls at The Reading Room Blog; Becs and her crew at Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews; Kathy at Romantic Reading Escapes; and Cariad at Sizzling Pages Romance Reviews. I also want to shout out to the following promoting badasses: Debra at Book Enthusiast Promotions, Franny and Silvia at Dark World Books, Giselle at Xpresso Book Tours, and Natalie at Love Between the Sheets Promotions. There are countless other bloggers who deserve a thank-you—each and every one of you who work tirelessly to promote authors simply because you love books. I’m in awe of the work you put into your blogs and reviews. THANK YOU!
A million and one thank-yous to Pam Godwin and Amber for giving me invaluable feedback that helped turned this monster into something that didn’t totally suck. I adore Pam and her style of critiquing. Her comments made me laugh-out-loud, and I’m honored that such a great wordsmith worked with me on Torrent. And Amber, who ripped my story to shreds in the best way possible and demanded a Rafe who wasn’t such a pussy—you so rock! Knowing what you’ve been through lately and seeing the way you’ve picked yourself up to face each day, it inspires me. You’ve got strength, girl.
A heartfelt thank-you to Ann Everett, whom I “met” online three years ago (can’t believe it’s been that long). We’ve traded everything from publishing advice to critiques. You’ve got a gentle spirit yet such a naughty mind, lol! I love your work, and I’m so thankful for all the little things you caught in this manuscript that no one else did.
I also want to thank Crystal, my own real-life cheerleader, for putting up with long car rides and non-stop book talk. She’s tromped in the woods with me at night, circled Portland neighborhoods enough times to get the cops called on us (thankfully it never happened), and driven three hours just to see an island. You’re the sister of my heart. Thanks for all you’ve done for me.
Last but not least, thanks to Valeri Miller for answering my questions about the Oregon justice system, and of course to my amazing editor Jessica Nollkamper. It’s always a pleasure working with you!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gemma James (a pseudonym for Christina Jean Michaels) loves to explore the darker side of sex in her fiction. She's morbidly curious about anything dark and edgy and enjoys exploring the deviant side of human nature. Her stories have been described as being “not for the faint of heart.”
She lives with her husband and their four children—three rambunctious UFC/wrestling-loving boys and one girl who steals everyone’s attention.
Find her online as Christina Jean Michaels and subscribe to her
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