Then again, Bass was the leader of all Lords at Stonewall. Hewasa higher-up.
“Stan would want to know his son committed murder,” I gritted out.
“My father has more important things to worry about than the death of some whore. In fact, he’d be pissed we couldn’t handle things on our own. I’m his son by blood, while you’re just a little orphan.” Bass gave a casual shrug. “He might feel the need to reconsider his generosity. I’d hate for you to be stripped of the Davenport name and tossed out of here on your penniless, lower-than-third-class ass. How would your sweet mommy feel about your fall from grace?”
My fists curled at my sides, poised to break this fucker’s jaw. But it would only make the situation worse, and an invisible noose tightened around my neck. The wicked gleam grew in Bass’s eyes as he witnessed the seeds of fear he planted sprout. He had me by the balls, and he knew it. There was no escaping this. “Leave the others out of this. They don’t need to be involved.”
“You’ll need help.” Bass finally released my arm and stepped back. “They’ll involve themselves anyway because their loyalty to you is unwavering. Isn’t that right, boys?”
Axel flanked my side and folded his thick arms over his barrel chest, the black suit threatening to pop at the seams. “We have your back, Kill.”
Gage rolled his shoulders like he was loosening up for a fight. “Of course we do.” His dark gaze landed on Slate who anxiously chewed his thumbnail.
“Yeah. Whatever.” He slipped a flask out of his pocket and chugged a few gulps. “I’m not a pussy. I can take care of a body.” Slate wiped his mouth with the back of his shaky hand.
I choked down the lump trying to rise in my throat. The shit we’d experienced during initiation freshman year sealed the four of us together, the sacrifice and bloodshed irrevocably changing us.
We never talked about the fucked-up things we’d done, but the memories haunted every single one of us.
Not many people had my back like these three.
At one time, I thoughtshewas my ride or die, but that all shattered when her betrayal hit me like a bulldozer.
“What do you want us to do?” The words burst from my bared teeth.
Bass shrugged and sauntered across the room to a bookshelf where he grabbed the bottle of bourbon. “I don’t care as long as it’s dealt with.”
The lazy asshole couldn’t even bother coming up with a plan. “And her?” I tilted my head toward the sobbing girl.
A predatory smile curled his lips as he filled a glass with liquor. “I’ll take care of Torri. She won’t be a problem when I’m done.”
Arctic air skated down my back as I studied him and then the trembling redhead, her makeup streaking down her pale face, and for just an instant, I saw a different redhead in a red dress—but I quickly shook her away and focused on the monster in front of me. “Can I trust you not to screw this up?”
“I’m a Davenport. I’ll do what needs to be done.” He sipped the bourbon. “You’ll learn that one day.”
I shook my head and swallowed down the insults I wanted to unleash on him.
“Heavy is the crown, little bro.” Bass lifted his drink in the air. “But you don’t have a crown. My boot hovers at your fucking throat instead. Don’t ever forget that.”
I slammed my foot against the shovel and sank it into the ground, tossing dirt out of the hole. Having four determined guys digging a grave with the threat of sunrise in a few hours really sped things up.
“I don’t get why we can’t just toss her off a cliff.” Slate’s eyes were bloodshot and face pale, barely keeping it together. “We could make it look like she was drunk and fell off.”
A trickle of sweat ran down my temple as my gaze lingered on the girl rolled in a fresh sheet that didn’t have Bass’s DNA all over it. After going through her purse, I found her student ID. Alicia Montgomery was her name.
“An autopsy would prove she was dropped in the ocean postmortem,” I said. “Plus, the bruises around her neck would make it obvious she was strangled.”
Slate tossed one hand in the air while he used the other to hold his shovel. “Okay, Dr. Davenport. When did you become a forensic expert?”
Gage rolled his eyes as he chugged a bottle of water. “Any idiot would know that.”
“Not true.” Slate flipped him off and dragged his fingers through his messy black locks. “Not everyone binges murder and serial killer docs like you, Van Horn.”
The huge guy with tats and piercings gave a smile that would make most piss their pants. “I’m just studying to murder you in your sleep, Wentworth.”
Axel cursed and climbed out of the grave. “Someone else tag in. I need a break.”
This wasn’t easy for Axel. Getting rid of a body dredged up memories from sophomore year he’d rather forget.
