Who the hell am I supposed to trust in this life if I can’t even trust a cop? I always knew Nix and I were alone, but all this really hits the nail on the head. And if Jax, with all his knowledge of burning bodies and strangulation, thinks I’m going to trust him after being screwed by someone who’s actually supposed to be good, he’s sorely mistaken.
Chapter Fourteen
Jax
The Noland backyard is nothing more than dirt, weeds, and a fallen tree. But I should be so lucky they even have a backyard, considering Kira won’t let me take the floorboards and towels. I know what she’s thinking. She’s thinking I’m collecting the evidence to use against her and her sister, which, if I’m being honest, is exactly the type of thing James would have me do; tuck away some DNA just in case something needs to be pinned on someone later.
But I’m going on forty-eight hours with no sleep, and if I wanted to nail Kira, all I would have had to do was leave some of the less obvious planks—the ones not blatantly stained with blood. I doubt she’s aware that it’s more than just the visible blood that can seal a murder case—that it’s the microscopic shit she should be worried about. But instead of letting her ignorance land her in prison, I spent the whole day taking up nearly all of Nix’s bedroom floor.
My first instinct was to burn the whole house down. That’s the only way to make sure nothing’s been missed, but fuck if Caleb didn’t tug on all the right heartstrings.Do they look like they would have anywhere else to go? This house is all they have. Where would they live? They barely afford food, Jax.
So now I’m stuck creating a small bonfire in their desecrated backyard to burn what evidence I could find, feeling Kira’s eyes searing into my back from the porch where she watches me like a hawk, tense and suspicious, ready to lunge if I so much as pocket some ash.
But even as I strike the match and toss it on the pile, something doesn’t feel right.
I wasn’t here for the actual murder or the half-ass initial cleanup done by the girls, and I don’t know what else should be in this pile. Did they accidentally touch a wall with blood on their hands? Did they rinse a strand of Marshal’s hair down the bathroom sink? What shoes were they wearing when they tried to clean up? Do they have a laundry bin I haven’t checked? Even a sock unintentionally swept under the bed could be enough to take them down.
Rubbing my chin, I glance over my shoulder at Kira. My pretty little accomplice has wet hair, the dark strands curling at the ends like a seductive invitation, dampening a fresh Bell’s tee around her breasts. Her cheeks are pink from the shower her sister managed to convince her to take, but it doesn’t seem to have undone any of the tension in her gaze.
Looking back at the quickly forming flames, I blow out a breath. She sure isn’t making this easy—in more ways than one. Clients typically don’t get a say in how their indiscretions get cleaned up, nor do they hover like a tempting drill sergeant. They trust the Landon name to make their problems go away. But Kira trusts me about as much as she can throw me, which is not at all, given her condition.
She’s been breathless ever since she bit my head off for trying to warn her against trusting authorities. And I can’t help but think she should go back to the hospital, not getting ready for a shift at a grimy bar.
Luckily, when I head back inside, I hear my own thoughts coming from Nix.
“You need to relax,” the younger sister says from the couch, nestled next to my painfully awkward brother where they’ve been swapping between a horror show and their phones all day. “We can watch a movie.”
“I can’t,” Kira huffs as she pulls on her jacket, her movements sharp and agitated. “I have to stop at the pharmacy, and you know Saturday nights are the best for tips.”
“But it’s not worth your life.” Nix stands, her arms folding tight over her chest. “And the Chevy won’t even start. Are you really going to walk?”
“I don’t have much of a choice.”
I don’t need to look at Caleb to know what he’s thinking, and I clench my jaw before the offer can even leave his mouth.
“Jax can drive you.” His voice is all too casual, as if he isn’t volunteering me to be a fucking chauffeur.
“Yes!” Nix exclaims at the same time Kira spits out, “No!”
“Yes,” Nix grits at her big sister, as if she’s the one in charge. “He’s not even doing anything. He can take you.”
She says it so matter-of-factly that for a second, I’m stunned. Not even doing anything? I haven’t even had a few damn seconds to contemplate my next move.
“Excuse me?” I arch a brow.
“Ugh.” Nix rolls her eyes, then sweeps them over me in a slow, unimpressed drag. “You aren’t, are you?”
I blink. Did she really just roll her fucking eyes at me? What is it with these girls? I normally get one of two attitudes from people—fear or awe. But the Noland girls seem to act like I’m the gum under their shoe.
I cast an annoyed glare at Caleb for getting us wrapped up with these two.
“What?” Nix swings her gaze between us, not missing anything. “Youwantto let a girl who just got out of the hospital walk to work?”
I grind my jaw at her insinuation—as if I’m not a gentleman. Because of course, I don’t want to let Kira walk to work. I don’t think she should even be going to work. And if I had it my way, I would tie her to the bed and force her to rest… among other things. But Caleb and I have been gone all day, and there’s no doubt that the twenty-two missed calls from James are about Caleb’s totaled car.
“I’m perfectly capable of walking,” Kira says, stuffing a silver can into her jacket pocket. “Besides, Jax probably has someone he needs tostrangle, don’t you, Jax?”
“Funny,” I scoff.
