Chapter 57
FIFTY-SEVEN
WAR - Phix, Call Me Karizma
Killing the ex-cop was fuuun . Logan let me batter his chest in, which just keyed me up more. And I almost kissed him for letting me do that. Honestly, it was the most romantic thing he’s done.
Now, we’re in the woods where Logan’s decided we bury him.
I hop around the grave while the wind kicks up and rattles the leaves. We’re back in the woods. Again. Because it’s truly the only place to get rid of a body in this state. Hard to bury one in a field when everyone can see you from miles away. Of course, you could always get rid of them in a tub . But Logan’s being a mother hen about that. Something about the cops watching acid sales now, blah blah fucking blah. Although, deep down, I’ll admit that it’s cute that he’s worried.
Logan digs while Dakota stands by, looking pale. I stare at the corpse, and for a second, two more appear right beside it.
‘It’s mutating!’ Buffalo yells.
Then, the body moves back into one. I blink, focusing hard. The body just stays as one, and disappointment fills me. I’ve never played pirate eye with three bodies at the same time.
I pull out my gun and point it at the head, which wavers for a second. Technically, Logan had already destroyed one of his eyes. So I’m curious if the blowout will be even more violent with less tissue to stop the pressure?
“What the fuck!” Logan jumps back.
I squint, trying to keep the body in focus.
“Hey! No!” Logan rushes out of the grave and at me. I glance at him, breaking my sight picture.
“Pirate eye!” Buffalo says it at the same time as I do.
“No, Jesus. People will hear it.” Logan’s warm hand wraps around mine. He yanks the gun from me. I try to react, pulling away and swinging, but everything moves in slow motion. Logan has yanked my holster away, too. He backs off, moving to Dakota.
“Hey! That’s mine!”
“You’re fucking drunk.” Logan starts to hand my weapon to Dakota, then pauses.
“Give it back.” I try to move their way, but why rush? My body feels so relaxed.
“If either of us gets hurt,” Logan says, staring into Dakota’s eyes, “you know what will happen.”
Dakota’s jaw twitches, then he nods and takes the weapon from Logan.
I stick out my bottom lip. Logan is no fun. There are hugs in the air—doesn’t he feel them??
“Ronan.” Logan turns to me.
“I heard you, fucker.” I hope the words came out sounding sober. I’m not that drunk. He’s a judgmental ass bitch. For once, I barely feel my past. Can’t he understand that?
Logan narrows his eyes, then slowly goes back to the hole.
‘Daddy said no. No fun!’ Buffalo is yelling, ‘Ask him again…beg him–’ Buffalo is interrupted by Logan tripping on a branch. He windmills his arms, trying not to fall into the hole.
I laugh. “How was your trip?”
“Fuck you, fucker.” Logan scrambles back down into the hole. “I didn’t see that.”
Logan would have fallen on the bloody corpse in the hole. I can’t keep the laughter from bubbling out. “If you fell on him, I would have laughed my ass off.”
“You’re already laughing,” Logan mutters, then says louder, “I wasn’t going to fall on him.”
The hugs in the air are floating around me, and everything is funny. I start singing, “Logan and the body, kissing in a grave. K - I - S–” Suddenly, a sharp pain explodes along the side of my head. I cry out, grabbing my head.
Logan smirks at me, turning around and pretending like he didn’t just throw a rock at me.
I’m having fun. I’m fucking having fun, and I should have known that meant I needed to focus. Because as I’m laughing at Logan, two other men show up. They stalk into the clearing, one pointing his gun at Logan.
I blink in slow motion. What is going on right now? Is this the dead cop resurrected and mutating? I blink, looking back down at the body, which is very much still a body. Then I look back up at the newcomers, registering the ugly ass gunman accompanied by…fucking Callum Walker. The man who’s been trying to kill us.
The short man with the gun is aiming at Logan, and I realize way too late that he’s about to shoot him. And that brings a pang of real fear through me, and suddenly, the alcohol haze vanishes. I need to save Logan, but I’m too far away to jump in front of him. I can’t reach him in time.
And that’s when Callum’s foot darts out and trips the man with him.
I watch in slow motion as the man crashes to the ground. My gaze darts between Callum and the man with him. Did he just…do that on purpose?
“What the fuck!” The man’s heavy jowls are turning a bright red, and he turns to yell at Callum. “You fucking FAGGOT!”
My mouth drops open. What the fuck did he just say?
‘I think fucking not!’ Buffalo yells from his place on my pack.
Nope. Not happening. I turn to Dakota, who’s standing in shock a few paces away from me. Snatching up my gun from his holster, I point it back at the man who tried to attack Logan. “Oh, hell no .”
Then, I fire off one round straight into the head of the threat.
I’m not entirely sure what happens next. I know I hit him ‘cause I watch his head snap back and him fall to the ground. But my brain is working on autopilot. My previous training wants me to shoot him a few more times, even though I know I got him the first time.
Suddenly, Logan is beside me, pulling at my hand. No, not my hand. At my gun.
“What the fuck!” Someone is screaming, but I’m not really paying attention. The man on the ground’s eye…is it there? I move my head to see, but it mostly looks like the right side of his face is a messy tampon. Yep!
I make a finger gun and point it at the man on the ground. “Pirate eye! Buff, write that one down.”
I did it! I fucking did it. There’s a brief moment of elation, and I feel it. That tiny sense of peace. Two kills in one day! And then, an annoying voice laughs and pulls me out of my victory. “Are you talking to a stuffed animal?”