“What about if they talk?” Cash asked. “The truck drivers?”
“They won’t. I threatened them and paid them well. And if they do, they’re dead men too and they know it.”
Cash swallowed. He loved Ortega, but the guy could be fucking scary.
“Get the lid off, will you?” Ortega asked. “Then I can take it from here.”
“Are you sure?” Ralen asked. “We’ll help you, uh, deal with the bodies.”
“Sure you can stomach it?” Ortega asked.
“Won’t be the worst thing we’ve ever done,” Cash lied. He drew out his phone, checking for any messages. Nothing. He put it to one side and grabbed some gloves to help Ralen remove the lid. After it was taken off, his phone beeped and he drew it out. But as he tried to open it, he fumbled, and the phone fell into the acid.
Fuck.
“Well. That wasn’t smart,” Ortega said.
Even Ralen gaped at him.
Cash groaned. That was a stupid, rookie move. He’d just been too eager to check his phone to think about what he was doing.
“Get your mind in the game,” Ralen whispered to him. “We’ve got shit to do and we need to get it done. Now. They girls will be fine. They have Butch and Stone with them.”
“Hmm, the vat is a bit small for the bodies,” Ortega said. “Some of them will need to be cut up. And it will take some time to get through them all. I’m not keeping you from anything?”
Actually, he was.
But Cash knew better than to say that.
“Of course not. Let’s get to work.”
It took them the entire night to get rid of the bodies and clean up. Cash was exhausted and sweaty by the end of it. He took the bottle of water that Ortega held out to him.
He gulped it down and wiped his brow.
Fuck. He needed a shower. Sleep. And a lot of whiskey.
For a long moment, he just sat there in silence. He needed to find his way back into himself. At the moment, he felt emotionless.
Out of it.
“Is this why you haven’t been answering anyone’s calls?” Ralen asked as he sat on the floor and drank from his own bottle of water.
Ortega shrugged. “As you can see, I’ve been busy.”
“Dante has been threatening to come to the States to find you,” Ralen pointed out.
“Huh. Really? He can’t do that. I guess I’ll call him. I am a grown man. I don’t need my brothers checking up on me every few minutes.” Irritation filled Ortega’s voice.
“You should still let someone know you’re alive,” Ralen told him. “Bonnie was worried.”
Ortega sighed. “There were other . . . circumstances. My phone wasn’t within reach for a while. And then it went missing. I had to get a new one. And I might have gotten caught up in my courtship.”
That wasn’t mysterious or anything.
“Aren’t people going to notice that eight men have gone missing? Bismarck isn’t that big a place,” Ralen pointed out.
Cash was staying out of it for the moment, not trusting himself.
