Free Inside Out by Rowyn Ashby Page B

hundred quid and a picture of this gorgeous bird.”
    Five hundred quid. Was that the going rate nowadays for an innocent life?
    “And you followed her to the marina, waited for her to get on the water to easily dispose of her body.”
    The kid nodded.
    Fuck. Whoever wanted Hunter dead didn’t mess around after all.
    Shane shivered at the thought of her being harmed, let alone murdered, and then dumped into the river, never to be found. Olivia had been more than enough. He was still trying to get over her, and if he didn’t stop destroying himself, there’d be no coming back. Now, there might be something to come back to.
    Shane wanted to look into Hunter’s eyes again, feel her underneath him, feel how her body rose when he kissed her. He wanted to know that she was safe, and that nothing would harm her.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Ten
     
    Olivia stole another Cadbury bar and downed it in four bites. She smacked her lips, her stomach still growling, and hailed a black London cab. She stretched her bare legs out and dropped her head back.
    The driver watched her in his rearview mirror, a wide smile on his face. “Where to, luv?”
    “Plumstead. There’s a tattoo shop there called Skin Deep . Do you know it?”
    “Address?” Olivia shook her head and the cab driver glanced at her through his rearview mirror. “You from out of town, luv?” he asked as she tried to rub the kinks out of her neck.
    She grinned. “You could say so, mate. I just died and came back into this body,” she explained, not giving a shit what it sounded like. The city was full of whackos anyway.
    The driver roared with laughter. “Well, whatever you looked like before, luv, I’d easily say you’re up on the deal.”
    “Thanks,” she chimed and winked at him. God, Hunter would flirt with anything in trousers.
    Olivia tried to relax, but it was not happening. Shane would not throw his head back and laugh as the cabbie had. What could she possibly say to convince him of her good faith? That his wife was back from the dead—only hotter than before, and willing to try a few new positions she’d picked along the way?
    No doubt Shane would want another round with her, which would get her foot in the door at least. And besides, his moves, his mouth, everything about him were to die for. But it would also annoy the shit out of her. Bloody Hunter and her irresistible body.
    Olivia got out of the cab in the center of Plumstead. The cabbie refused payment. She’d taught him a new address.
    The faces passing the street were a blur as she picked her way around mothers with baby carriages, elderly couples, stepped over dogs on leashes, and turned the corner. Olivia didn’t know which way to go, but a strange sense of survival instinct kicked in, guiding her. It filled her with a strange adrenaline she had never experienced, not even before a concert.
    In the distance, she spotted a bloke descending from a motorbike. Her feet had a mind of their own and lured her toward him. She didn’t know how to ride a motorbike! All the same she glanced around, and when he stood she kicked him between the legs. He groaned, and she pushed him to the ground, hopping on in his stead, revving the motor until it sang its strangely familiar song. Her heart in her mouth, she sped up the high street past a neighborhood market. Without stopping, she pulled an outfit off a rack and turned into a back street, finally breathing a sigh of relief.
    Olivia shrugged out of the now-soiled uniform, dumped it in a street skip, and studied the outfit she had stolen, a pink sundress Hunter wouldn’t have been caught dead in. But here she was—in pink—and dead. Hunter’s life was full of surprises around every corner and galaxies away from her secure, sheltered existence spent between their flat, summers at their beach house in North Devon and rehearsals at the Royal Festival Hall and every day pleasures and duties. Hell—normal life.
    She chanced a look behind her and saw