The silence that follows is heavy, almost suffocating, but it’s clear now, we can trust him. If he is willing to do everything he said that would leave us clear from ever having to worry about this again. “That sounds like a plan to us.” Jackson steps forward and shakes the detectives hand.
Abbot nods, “Let me run to my car and grab everything we need. I got two tarps so we don’t have to worry about blood spread, and then the tools to pull the teeth. Once we get them wrapped and pulled we will bring them to another location so this isn’t tied to the bookstore.” With that he turns and walks through the backlot.
The cold of the night bites into my skin as we stand on a dark, empty road deep in the woods. The trees surrounding us feel like silent witnesses to everything that’s going down. Jackson, Nolan, Beau, Liam, and I are waiting beside the car, the quiet pressing in on all sides.
That gnawing, uneasy feeling sits heavy in my stomach. Liam pulled their teeth. He just ripped them out one by one then crushed them into dust with a hammer. It was brutal. So brutal that the image won’t leave my head. The sound of bone cracking still echoes in my ears, sharp and final, and impossible to forget.
I’m standing between Jackson and Beau, and I’m not sure if it’s the cold or the dread in my chest, but I find myself leaning into them, trying to press as close as possible. Their warmth sinks into my skin, and it’s grounding, steadying me in a way nothing else can.
Jackson’s hand rests on my shoulder, with his forehead pressing into the side of my head. Beau shifts and wraps his arms around me too, pulling me in tighter. They hold me close, the kind of close that makes it easier to breathe. “You alright?” Jackson murmurs softly against my hair.His voice is low, calm, like he’s afraid even a whisper could unravel me.
I nod, even though I don’t fully believe it myself. Their warmth is comforting, but the reality of what I’ve dragged us into is too big to ignore.
Liam, standing off to our left, hasn’t looked at us once, but I can feel his focus locked on the road. His voice cuts through the silence, sharp with suspicion. “You guys sure we can trust this cop?” he asks, tone laced with doubt. “He hasn’t shown yet. He’s got the bodies in his car, and he already took the money. For all we know, he’s headed straight to the police station to turn us in.”
Jackson straightens next to me, his hand still steady on my shoulder, though I can see the tension in his face as he watches the road. “I don’t think he will,” he says, but there’s a faint edge to his voice, like he’s trying to convince himself just as much as the rest of us. “We might’ve just met him, but at this point, he’s in deep too. He’s already taken our bribe.”
I glance at Jackson, hoping for some kind of reassurance, but his face gives nothing away. Still, I think I can see the same doubt flicker in his eyes.
Then we hear the sound of tires crunching over gravel.
All of us turn at once. Headlights flicker through the trees.
Detective Abbot. Finally.
A fresh wave of nerves floods my body, sharp and sudden, but I swallow it down before it shows. I press in a little closer to Jackson, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing anchor me. His arm tightens around my waist like he knows. Like he feels it too.
The car rolls to a stop in front of us, headlights slicing through the thick trees that crowd the road. The woods are silent… No wind, no animals, just the distant hum of the engine and the crunch of tires on gravel. Abbot steps out like he’s got all the time in the world, his gaze sweeping over each of us, then the road, then the shadows stretching long behind us.
“You’ve got the bodies still?” Jackson asks, voice calm but clipped.
Abbot nods, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Of course. I took your money, didn’t I? I’m just as tied up in this now as you are.”
He walks around to the back of his car and pops the trunk. The hinges creak, and then the smell of blood hits my nose. The bodies are crammed inside, wrapped tight in tarp, limbs bent at unnatural angles. My stomach flips, not with fear, but with the weight of how final this all is. There’s no undoing any of it. No taking it back.
The guys move in sync, silent and efficient. Jackson, Nolan and Beau step forward, reach in, and drag the bodies out with practiced ease. The sound of limbs scraping against the ground grates against my nerves. Liam keeps watch, eyes scanning the tree line like he’s expecting something to move.
They carry the bodies a few feet farther down the road, away from the cars, and lay them out like trash being prepped for disposal. The woods press in around us, dark and endless, the silence so thick it feels like it’s listening.
Abbot pulls out two gas cans from the trunk and straightens. His eyes flick to me, lingering for a beat. “Took me longer than I expected,” he says, almost sounding apologetic. “Had to swing by my place for these.”
I nod, unable to trust my voice right now. My throat feels tight, my chest heavier than it should be.
Jackson returns to our car and reaches into the backseat, grabbing his vest and Beau’s. He tosses them to the side without hesitation, then looks at me. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, everything else fades. There’s something in his expression, an understanding, exhaustion, and the weight of everything we’ve survived. No words. Just truth.
Abbot kneels next to the bodies, uncaps one of the cans, and starts pouring. “Everyone step back to the cars,” he calls out. “This is gonna go fast.”
They move without question, boots crunching over gravel as they fall into place beside me. Jackson’s hand finds mine. Beau’s fingers brush my shoulder. Liam and Nolan flank the edges, silent sentinels.
Abbot flicks open a matchbook, strikes a match with one smooth motion. The flame dances for a second, then he tosses it.
Woosh.
The fire erupts instantly, flames surging into the sky with a roar. Heat rushes toward us, fierce and immediate, licking at our clothes and skin even from a distance. The blaze crackles, devouring everything in its path. The trees around us glow orange, casting long shadows that flicker and stretch like ghosts.
We don’t speak. Not for a long time.
We just watch.
