My fingers felt fat and clumsy as I shoved my Glock into the pocket of my hoodie, and I had to focus a lot on putting one foot in front of the other.
“This way, faggot. They’re burying a mark in the woods.”
I snorted.
Perfect.
They could bury my ass out there next.
I followed McGreggor into the treeline with one eye closed, doing my best to see despite the fact that I had double vision.
I could barely see straight, and when the canopy of the trees cut out the light from the moon, it only made things worse.
If Vox were here, he would be furious with me for stomping through these woods with all the grace of a bull in a china shop… but Vox wasn’t here.
I was with incompetent ass McGreggor, and he was dumber than a bag of hammers. The dude was sober and making more noise than I was, so who fucking cared.
As we made our way deeper into the trees, three distinct male voices began to float through the woods. My drunk ass should have tensed and gone into stealth mode… Instead, I found myself chuckling as another clearly drunk voice cut through the dark.
“How was your trip?” a voice slurred.
“Fuck you, fucker. I didn’t see that.”
There was obnoxious laughter. “If you fell on him, I would have laughed my ass off.”
The voice is annoyed. “I wasn’t going to fall on him.”
“Logan and Dillon, kissing in a grave. K - I - S – OW.”
I could see them now through the trees; Ronan Carter and Logan Sutton were clearly burying a body with another guy I didn’t recognize. The third dude was hella pretty, though, with freckles that rivaled Ryan’s. My mouth flooded with a bitter taste at the thought that I would never be able to look at freckles again without my heart fucking breaking.
McGreggor pulled his gun out of its holster and glanced back at me as we approached the clearing.
“I’m going in first. I’m sick of you always getting the fucking credit. Cover me, bitch, or I’ll personally make sure your faggot ass gets chained back up in that tub.”
Even in my drunken haze, McGreggor’s words hit that part of my brain that made my whole body flood with rage.
I narrowed my eyes at the back of his head as he busted into the clearing, pointing his gun directly at Logan.
Logan, who seemed to have his hands full with a very drunk Ronan, looked up in shock at McGreggor’s brazen invasion of their little murder party.
I watched Logan reach for his gun, but he wasn’t going to get to it in time. If I had been here with Vox, I would have already been sighting down my arm at one of the other men.
But I wasn’t with Vox.
I was with McGreggor.
An insanely bad idea crossed my mind, and before I could take the time to process what I was doing, I slid my foot in front of McGreggor and kicked out his ankle.
He tripped and went down.
Logan’s eyes widened in surprise as I sabotaged my own partner.
“What the fuck!” McGreggor shouted. He glanced at me as he went down, his uggo face painted purple with fury. “You fucking FAGGOT!” He snarled.
Ronan’s mouth dropped open in shock at the slur, and he ripped a gun out of the pretty man’s holster.
“Oh,hell no!”he barked before shooting McGreggor point-blank in the head with the other man’s gun.
