He throws me an awkward look. “Well, we’re both engaged with that killer lady. It would make perfect sense.”
“It makes zero sense.” I close the gap between us. “There is only one of her and two of us. That makes us rivals. Not friends.”
“We can share.” He tilts his head. “I’m not opposed to sharing her.”
“She won’t allow it,” I reply. “Besides, you and I have nothing in common.”
After a stare down, I turn around and grab Bob’s arms, attempting to lift him, but he’s too goddamn heavy to carry all by myself.
“Our undying love for a serial killer is one thing,” Orion muses as he suddenly bends over to grab the guy’s legs.
I pause. “What are you doing?”
“Like I said … helping you.” He lifts the body like it’s no big deal and smiles.
I don’t fucking understand why he’d do this for me. He owes me nothing.
“Go on. Grab his arms,” he says.
I clear my throat and pick up the man’s wrists, and he helps me move the body back toward the entrance to the Tartarus House.
“Where do you want to take him?” he asks.
“My trunk,” I answer.
He nods, and we carry the body to my car in silence, which is parked right beside the building. There are only a few parking spaces available that are under the cover of several trees and bushes, making it the ideal hideout, and I’m fucking lucky I was able to park there today. Normally, those are the hardest spots to obtain, but I guess everybody was too busy getting ready for the party currently happening in the house.
When we’re there, I swiftly open the car’s trunk and hoist the body inside, then lock him in. I look over my shoulder at the trail of blood, and I open my car door and pull out a bottle of water, then throw the water all over the bloodied ground.
“What are you doing?” Orion asks.
“Can’t leave tracks,” I say.
I grab a broom standing next to the house to sweep away some leaves and dust over the remaining sludge to make it less visible.
“It’s not much, but it’ll have to do.”
“What are we going to do with the body?” he asks as we both head back to my car.
“What do you meanwe?” I look him up and down. “You’re wearing a bathrobe.”
He scowls at me. “And? I’ll have you know, this isn’t just any robe, it’s a Ralph Lauren.”
“It’s a robe,” I retort. “End of story.”
I hop into my car and close the door, but within seconds, he’s opened the passenger’s side and hopped in too.
“What are you doing?”
“How many times are you going to ask me that question, Xavier? The answer doesn’t change.” He throws me a smug-ass smile. “Aren’t you going to drive?”
“I have a body to get rid of.”
“Yes, but you’re not going to be able to lift it out of the trunk by yourself,” he says, chuckling as he grabs my arm and squeezes my biceps. “You need more than just these.”
“Wow…” I jerk free of his grip.
“Oh, it wasn’t an insult, I think you’re quite strong. You just don’t tend to use your brain and muscles simultaneously.”
