“He’s dead. It’s okay,” Caleb tries to soothe me, but it only makes my chest tighten further.
Who has my baby sister gotten herself involved with? I can’t think of anyone who would be so nonchalant about moving a body. But he seems kind. I can read it in his eyes as he bends to bear more of the body’s weight than Nix. It’s in the concerned glance he gives me as he begins to walk backward. It’s in the lopsided grin he gives Nix as if he’s happy to be here. I may be exhausted, but I can read people. It’s a sense that comes from so many years of bartending, and Caleb is a sweet kid. But indifferent about a dead body… It doesn’t make sense.
But maybe I should just be grateful. Because I really don’t think I could carry Marshal. Not if the way my head is spinning is any indicator.
“I guess… I guess I’ll just carry the shovel,” I say mostly to myself and scrape it up from the ground before shuffling after them.
“We can,” Caleb grunts, adjusting Marshal’s shoulders in his hold, “we can double back for that if you want to take a nap in the car.”
I’m about to tell him I’m not a toddler and that I don’t need a fucking nap when lights suddenly illuminate the trees. I’m momentarily blinded, but the sound of tires on gravel makes me spin.
Shielding my eyes, I curse.
A car.
A fucking car.
And we aren’t even in the underbrush yet.
Nix and Caleb hold Marshal like a too-heavy sack of potatoes between them, caught like deer in headlights. I don’t even have time to shout for them to run, to hide. The car is going too fast—way too fast.I squeeze my eyes shut, my body freezing up, sure whoever’s behind the wheel is going to run me over.
The engine is deafening as the tires peel over the gravel, the heat of the grill suddenly on my skin too soon, but then—mercifully—the car skids to a stop in front of me. I take a breath before I risk opening my eyes, my heartbeat in my ears. The headlights are still on, too bright and casting me in a spotlight. Blinking, I squint at the souped-up car, some sort of black Charger with a purring engine, but I can’t see who’s behind the wheel.
“Go!” I hiss, risking taking my eyes off the car, because if there’s any chance whoever it is hasn’t seen the body, then we need to take it.
But all my hope vanishes as I find Caleb bending at the knees, setting Marshal down.
No.
What the fuck is he doing?!
“Go!” I try again, but his shoulders sag as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, an air of resignation in his stance.
I gape as Nix whispers something to him that I can’t hear over the engine, but my attention is pulled back to the car as the lights suddenly cut and the car shuts off.
My heartbeat takes up the silence, pounding painfully as I make out the silhouette of a guy behind the windshield. His head is tilted, and though I can’t make out his eyes, I can feel them raking over me. For a tense minute, I’m snared in his shadowedstare. My skin prickles, my cheeks flushing like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t, and then I remember…
Iamdoing something I shouldn’t be doing.
All three of us.
And we’re so fucked.
Chapter Six
Jax
Kira Noland was the fox-eyed freshman who kept her head down unless someone was dumb enough to poke the beast. The one who broke Andrew Wilton’s nose when he slapped her ass. The poor student whose backpack ripped open in the hallway and spilled tampons everywhere, yet still met every stare head-on, daring anyone to make fun of her.
But now, it seems, Kira Noland is all grown up, and in all the right places, too.
Cutting my headlights, the moon casts shadows on her curves, the kind that make my jaw clench. Her worn jeans are slim around her waist, stretched around her hips, and the ratty Bell’s Bar tee barely fits over her chest. But I would assume the establishment likes it like that. She’s a fucking sight, and I can’t help but file her place of work away for the future. Right now, I’d like to know why the fuck my brother is carting a body into the woods.
Begrudgingly, I drag my eyes from the girl I haven’t seen since high school and get out of my Hellcat. The door shuts quietly behind me while no one says a word, and I leisurely lean against it, letting the night air chill through my leather jacket as I reach into my pocket for smokes and a lighter.
Kira, and what I presume is her sister, based on the raven hair, share a confused look that I catch from beneath my brow. Caleb, on the other hand, waits.
He’s getting quite the backbone.
