And losing brain cells in the process.
“What’re you doing, little brother?” I ask, lighting my cigarette and tilting my head back, letting the smoke loose toward the stars.
Of all the things I thought I would find Caleb doing, moving a body wasn’t one of them. And in a fucking blanket no less. He should know better than that.
“How did you know where I was?” he asks.
I slowly smirk and lean down to pat the metal trim above my tire.
“That’s bullshit,” he seethes.
It sure is. Trackers are for people we need to keep an eye on, not family. But if he hadn’t acted so squirmy when he came home, I wouldn’t have placed one above his wheel. Let this be a lesson for him to get a better poker face. He’s going to need it in our business.
“Wait, this is your brother?!” Kira cuts in. “Jesus, this is… this is un-fucking-real.”
She runs a hand through her hair, and the locks fall in thick layers around her shoulders as she starts to laugh. It’s a manic kind of laugh, but fuck is it appealing, and I angle a little more in her direction.
“This your doing?” I ask with a nod toward the corpse.
She looks pretty pale, which is a sign of someone who’s killed someone and isn’t used to it. Though, why she dragged my brother and her little sister into it is beyond me. Most normal families don’t share their killings with kids, but hey, I’m not in a position to judge. I was brought into the family business at eight years old.
“Leave her alone.” Caleb steps over the body.
“Oh, woah, woah.” I pierce the cigarette between my teeth and hold my hands up, chuckling. “I’m not doing anything… yet.”
“Just leave. I can handle this,” he says.
“Yeah,” I drag out the word and lean back. “I don’t think so.”
He didn’t even wrap the body properly before putting it in his car. Now we have to torch that pricey little Audi of his. And he knows damn well that bodies get burned, yet I don’t see a lick of accelerant nearby. Whatever he’s gotten himself into, it’s a shit show. With two accomplices, no less.
“I give up!” Kira suddenly shrieks, tossing her hands in the air. “I give thefuckup. Just call the cops. I’ll confess. I’m so fucking done. Let them put me in cuffs.”
“Oh, buttercup,” I tsk and flick my butt into the night. “We don’t do cops. But if it’s cuffs you want, we can go back to mine.”
Her eyes widen, in outrage or shock, I don’t know, but I prowl toward her all the same, unable to help myself. Not only was she off-limits as a freshman since I was a senior, but I also had my head buried in other things, like passing the LSAT and learning how to clean a gun. I could only steal some glances back at Cloverwick High, but now I have her right under my thumb. And I want a good, long look at Kira Noland.
She stumbles slightly trying to back up, but I close the distance with ease. Tilting my head, I let my eyes roam her face. Her chocolate eyes narrow under my appreciation, but I ignore the bitterness for the sweetness underneath. She has long lashes that graze her cheeks when she blinks, soft and dark and trouble, with skin like satin even though exhaustion is written in every line—a contradiction I can’t help cataloging. And her lips… full, pouty, and infuriatingly annoyed, lips that make it real damn easy to forget there’s a body on the ground and a situation thatneeds remedying. Everything about her is built to distract, to tempt, to ruin. And I don’t think she even realizes it.
So fucking pretty.
But so painfullytired.
It clings to her, the slump of her shoulders, the strain around her eyes, the way her breath stutters with spite. She looks like she’s two minutes from collapsing or clawing someone’s face off, and I can’t decide which option would be more entertaining.
“Hm,” I muse and rub the stubble on my cheek as I study her. “Maybe a nap before playtime.”
Her jaw drops, outrage flickering alive under the exhaustion. But she recovers as quick as a whip. “I’m not taking a goddamn nap,” she snaps.
I draw back at her outburst, amused. Clearly, I’m not the first person to tell her that, and she seems hellbent on ignoring the advice.
Oh, well.
I reach around my back and pull my gun. Clicking the safety with my thumb, I extend my arm and point it straight at her.
She can nap when she’s dead.
Chapter Seven
