Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic) Read Free Page A

control would have her in bed in a DC minute.
    She turned around and caught his gaze for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t decide if she blamed him for her situation or was angry at the killer. Either way, her feisty attitude would help her adjust to the rough days ahead.
    She stopped in the middle of the foyer and surveyed the open kitchen and living room. She ran her uninjured hand on the shiny granite counter top, and her shoulders relaxed. The upscale place seemed to meet with her approval. Good. One less hurdle to jump.
    He placed the luggage in the foyer. Light from the large living room window filled the spacious area. The overstuffed chairs across from the leather sofa looked comfortable.
    “Wait here. I’m going to check out the upstairs.” The two-bedroom town house took all of five minutes to search. He jogged downstairs toward the entrance. “All clear.”
    She blew out a breath. “Thank God.”
    Susan shuffled over to the dark brown sofa and plopped down on the end cushion. She grabbed a blue pillow to her chest and drew her knees close. Much of her shoulder-length blonde hair had escaped the ponytail holder, and her coloring was too gray for his liking, but there was a definite challenge sparking in her eyes. He wanted to tell her things would get better, but the right words wouldn’t form.
    She raised a bandaged arm, winced, and lowered her hand to her lap. Her jaw tightened. Susan’s life would never be the same even after the criminal was brought to justice.
    She looked over at him. “I want to start rehab right away. I hate hurting every time I move.”
    He appreciated her aggressive, back-to-business attitude. “I’ll look into a center tomorrow. How does that sound?”
    “Good. So what do I do about money?”
    “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of everything. Your hardest job is to remember you are no longer Susan Chapman. She’s dead. You are now—”
    She looked up. “I know. Taylor Daniels. A woman with a whole lot of problems who needs a really good plan. Right now, I have no family, no money, and no job.”
    He could tell her he knew all about growing up without a family and having no money, but now wasn’t the time to swap sad stories with her. “It comes with wanting to stay alive.”
    The usual platitude left a bitter taste in his mouth despite the statement’s truth. Having to rip people out of their lives headed his “this sucks” list. Yet he continued to do it time and again because in the end he helped keep people safe.
    He strode over to the comfy-looking beige chair and sat opposite her. The lines tightened around her focused blue eyes. If he knew of a way to soften the tension rippling across Susan’s face, he would. The way she drummed her fingers on the sofa’s arm and squeezed the life out of the pillow reminded him of his grandmother. Gram was all piss and vinegar at not being able to beat cancer. In the end, she lost the battle, but it wasn’t from lack of trying.
    During the Caravello trial, he’d watched a few of the proceedings and witnessed Susan’s tough prosecutor style. He hoped with her determination to find answers, she wouldn’t remember seeing him at that trial nor learn why he’d asked for this assignment. The resulting questions would definitely hurt his ability to protect her.
    His job was to make sure she stayed safe, but something inside lured him into wanting to make her recovery easier. “You want something to drink?” Or something to punch?
    Her eyes flew open. “No.” She swallowed hard as if she were trying to deal with the enormity of her situation. “But, thank you anyway.”
    To give her time to come to grips with her new life, he picked up a Tampa Bay magazine from the glass coffee table and flipped though the glossy pages, but he couldn’t focus on the contents. When he glanced up a moment later, her eyes were closed, her breath ragged.
    He got up to get a glass of water for himself. Halfway across the