Just how Ramsey told me.
Chapter 36
Ramsey
I've got blood under my fingernails and a body in my truck bed. Not exactly how I planned to spend my night, but ya know here we are.
My knuckles are white on the steering wheel as I scan the street for the hundredth time. Where the fuck is she? Reese should've rounded that corner five minutes ago. Every second she's out there alone, my skin crawls like there's fucking ants underneath it.
I check my watch again. Six minutes now.
"Fuck this," I mutter, reaching for the door handle when movement catches my eye.
There she is. Walking down the sidewalk like she didn't just cave some ballerina's skull in. My little fucking psychopath.
My dick's been half-hard since I walked in on her straddling that blonde bitch, hands slick with blood, eyes wild. Never in a million years would I have expectedReese—my Reese—to snap like that. All those years protecting her, thinking she was this fragile thing that needed sheltering, and then she goes and beats someone to death with her bare hands.
For me.
She said it was for me.
The thought makes me throb against my zipper. It's fucked up. I know it's fucked up. But seeing her like that, unleashed and violent, it's like she finally showed me the part of her that matches the darkness in me.
She slides into the passenger seat, cheeks flushed from the cold night air. "Hey."
"Hey? That's all you've got? Fucking 'hey'?" I snap, relief making me irritable.
She rolls her eyes. "What do you want me to say? Sorry I'm late for our body disposal date?"
I put the truck in drive, pulling away from the curb. "Yes. I was worried."
"I had to walk slow," she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You know, for the cameras. Make it look normal."
I grunt in acknowledgment, impressed despite myself. She's thinking like a criminal already.
We drive in silence for a few minutes, the weight of what we're doing settling between us. I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She's staring out the window, oddly calm, like we're on a fucking road trip instead of a murder cleanup.
"You okay?" I finally ask.
She turns to me, those hazel eyesmeeting mine. "You're the one with a body in your truck."
"I've had worse cargo," I say without thinking.
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Jesus, Ramsey."
I shrug. It's not like I can take it back now. "You should be freaking out more."
A small laugh escapes her throat. "Maybe I'm in shock."
"Or maybe you're just as fucked in the head as I am," I say, shooting her a sideways glance. "Which is fucking terrifying, by the way."
"Why? Scared I'll murder you in your sleep?" She's smirking now, the little shit.
"No, because if you're this calm about murder, I've wasted years protecting you from shit you could clearly handle yourself."
Reese stretches in her seat, and my eyes drop to where my hoodie rides up her thigh. Even with a body in the back, I can't stop thinking about getting between those legs.
"I don't know if I'm calm," she says, running a hand through her hair. "I just...don't feel bad. She deserved it. She was talking shit about you."
