“Mineshaft?” Quill asks. “Well, shit, you have everything you need to make it look like a murder. Maybe we can space the bodies out, make it look like Trevor hunted them down and killed them when he caught up with them. That could work.”
Camden looks proud that he could contribute to the plan. “I have my snowmobile. We can stack the bodies on the back and take it through the woods until we’re out of eyeshot of the road up here. Then I can take it to the top and dump them in the shaft.”
“I’m coming with you. You’ll need a hand to get the bodies off the snowmobile and spaced out. Remi.” I turn to him and frame his face. “You and Quill get started with the cleaning, and whenwe’re done, we’ll come back and finish up. We can talk about what to tell the cops when I get back, okay?”
“Okay,” he whispers. “Thank you.”
I kiss him lightly on the nose. “Anything for you, Hummingbird.” After one more kiss, I turn to Camden, who’s openly staring at Quill as the tiny librarian goes to the kitchen to get cleaning supplies. “Ready?”
Camden takes his time looking at me, a wide smile spread across his face. “Ready. Wish I could have chopped off a limb or two.”
I roll my eyes and throw an arm around his shoulder. “Next time,” I deadpan. “For now, you can get your rocks off by tossing bodies into a cave, yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
20
REMI
Now that they have a plan,I’m morbidly obsessed with how efficient Streeter is at handling things. I only have just enough time to recount everything that’s been happening to Quill while they’re gone.
“Where’s my sexy serial killer that’ll fuck me into a coma in front of a fireplace?”
Maybe the most shocking thing out of all of this is the way my best friend isn’t fazed byanyof it. He’s interested, curious… and jealous, and I have to wonder exactly how many of the same books we’ve read after all if he’s romanticizing everything that happened.
I open my mouth to tell him that he should at least try to act shocked or upset over what I’m saying when a voice interrupts me. “Did someone ask for a sexy killer?”
Quill’s cheeks go pink for just a moment before he turns, sizing up Camden before rolling his eyes. “Yes, and yet… here you are. Ruining my dreams.”
I can tell it takes Camden a few seconds to realize he’s been rebuffed, but the smile that crosses his face when Quill turnsback to me, rolling his eyes, tells me it might not have struck the nerve he’d hoped for.
“I could definitely show you—” Camden starts across the room, but Streeter comes in, catching him by the arm and looking around.
“We need to get Trevor’s bag packed so we can get rid of it. It needs to look like he left in a hurry.”
I shiver once at how much loathing I can hear in Streeter’s voice just saying his name, but Quill is already disappearing into the bedroom and coming out with a bag. “Here. Already handled it. I left a few of his clothes on the ground.” He wrinkles his nose. “That asshole was always a slob. It won’t be very hard for people to believe he was a killer too.”
“You still looking for a killer of your own?” Camden asks Quill, and I have to bite back a smile.
“No,” Quill says, deadpan and uninterested as he turns to me, adjusting the hem of his shirt like he didn’t just turn down a potential psychopath after covering up a crime scene. “The rest of this is going to be up to you, babes.” His bright green eyes are full of confidence as he looks me over. “You really have to sell it when you tell the police exactly how crazy Trevor went.”
“Sell it?”
“Cry. Hell, Remi… he’s been shit to you. You’ve called me crying about how he’s treated you before. I have those pictures I took from when he hit you?—”
Behind me, I hear a low growl tear from Streeter’s throat. I remember those pictures—the cut on my lip, the hollow look in my eyes.
“I can show them those…”
“He’s texted you a thousand times acting like a jealous psychopath. You just have to show them that side of him. I know you can do this.”
My eyes shift past Quill to Streeter, who’s watching me with an intensity that makes my stomach burn, and when I nod in determination, he comes across the room and tugs me against him. I can hear his heartbeat thundering, and the strength of his arms anchors me when I finally blow out a breath.
“I can do this.” I’m talking to Quill, but it’s Streeter who answers me.
“Yeah, Hummingbird. You can. We’ll get through this together.”
Together.
