SIX
GRIM
It wasn’t my and Gemma’s first dead body—our love story was littered with them.
Gemma hadn’t left the beach, her body a silhouette against the moonlit sky. Despite ordering her to leave, she stayed to watch me dispose of the body. My shoulder blades were still tense from that small act of defiance.
The Crowne party continued as shadows danced against the drapes. I eyed the blood still crusted on my hands.
Contrary to the Horseman on my back, this was not my job.
I don’t do this.
Wraith was the one who made and disposed of bodies. But if I called on Wraith, I’d have to tell him everything. So I’d done what I always did with Gemma’s monsters—fed them to the sea.
My phone vibrated—the Horsemen.
Fuck.
I picked up the call. “What?”
“Where the fuck are you?” Lock asked.
My gaze traveled beyond the mansion’s inky-black shingles to the beach, where Gemma was starting to move.
“Busy,” I said.
“White Privilege Barbie is becoming a fucking problem,” Raze said. “You seen her?”
I eyed Gemma’s shadow. “Nah.”
“This is why I should have put a tracker in her,” Wraith growled. “This is bullshit.”
“She—” I started, only to be cut off by atap, tap, tap.
A frat-boy-looking motherfucker with green eyes fogged my window with his mouth. Behind him, a pink sports car glittered on the cobblestone driveway.
“Bro.” Frat Boy tapped my window again. Behind the tempered-glass window, his voice softened as if underwater.
I muted the phone and rolled the window down just enough to see green eyes, red with weed.
Frat Boy laid his arm on my hood. “You’re blocking me?—”
I snaked my hand through the sliver of space in the window, grasping his collar and slamming him against the glass. A thin trail of blood smeared a line down the window as he fell to the ground.
I got out of my car.
“Starting to hear a lot of rumors around this, man,” Lock continued. “People saying we’re weak, that we don’t enforce contracts.”
“Dude,” Raze added on the call. “Sometimes I think shewantsus to kill her.”
I nearly laughed.
If they only fucking knew.
I stepped on either side of him, staring down. “You should really learn to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Word on the street is that she’s off limits,” Raze continued. “They’re saying she’s the fucking Reaper’s girl.”
