I take Spencer to my truck where I’ll soon be driving out to the middle of nowhere and burying it along with his recently deceased pal, Kel.
When I do make it back inside, Solana’s still shaken. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her brows are drawn close. She almost looks like she might be sick.
I can’t say I blame her—decapitated heads aren’t a pretty sight. Certainly not for regular civilians like her who aren’t in the outlaw lifestyle.
First things first, I wash my hands in the sink with water and plenty of soap. The rubber gloves were covering my hands, but there’s still something about touching a severed head that makes them feel unclean.
“Hey,” I say, returning to Solana. I grip her by the chin, tilting her face up toward mine. “You’re safe. I’m here and nobody’s gonna hurt you.”
She murmurs, “Thank you. I was just… that was the last thing I expected.”
“You and me both.”
“Who could’ve done it? Who would’ve… and why…?”
“Not sure. But I’m gonna find out.”
Even as I tell Solana I don’t know, I’ve got a hunch.
My mind churns through the implications. The Peñas have to be behind this as retaliation for our hit on their supply truck, but something about this doesn’t add up.
How would they even know about Spencer unless they’ve been watching me for longer than I thought? Why kill somebody I’d already beaten half to death, who was clearly my enemy rather than my ally?
His death isn’t something I’m gonna mourn.
If they werereallytrying to hurt me, they would’ve gone after Solana or Rachel and the kids—they would’ve hurt somebody I care about.
Instead, they eliminated somebody that was practically my enemy.
The logic doesn’t track. If the Peñas knew I’d threatened Spencer, why would they do me the favor of eliminating him? What message are they trying to send by killing him and leaving him on my doorstep like some twisted gift?
I pull out my phone and dial Tom’s number, stepping into another room. Originally I’d told the others we’d speak aboutthis tomorrow, but in light of a fucking severed head on my doorstep, the situation’s more urgent than we thought.
Where the hell could he have disappeared off to tonight?
The call goes straight to voicemail without even ringing, which means he’s either turned his phone off or he’s somewhere with no signal.
Typical Tom, always available when he wants to be but nowhere to be found during an actual crisis.
“Silver?” Solana whispers.
I follow the sound of her voice back to the entryway. She’s peeking through the curtains of the front window, obviously still shaken.
“There’s a car out there. It wasn’t there when you came home. The lights are on and it looks like the engine’s running. I… I think they’re watching the house.”
“Get away from the window!” I order, pulling her back by the shoulders. I stride over to the secret gun safe I keep in the living room and grab my Glock, checking the clip and chambering a round before storming outside.
The car sits about two houses down, a similar dark sedan to the one watching me weeks ago. The engine’s idling, steam rising from the exhaust pipe in the cool night air.
The windows are tinted, but I can make out the vague silhouette of at least one person inside.
I start toward them, making it clear I’m armed. I’m ready to blow their heads off if necessary.
“Hey!” I yell. “You think this is some joke? Show yourselves!”
As I get closer to the vehicle, the engine suddenly revs. The car lurches forward, tires squealing as it accelerates away from the curb.
I break into a full run, rushing into the middle of the empty residential street as the car speeds off.
