Chapter 3 #2
“Caleb,” Nix supplies, shutting the door and stepping around me like she’s stepping between a bomb and ground zero. “This is Caleb.” She puts up her hands to fend me off. “But it’s okay. He’s not going to tell anyone.”
“Tell anyone what, Nicole?” I can’t help but use her full name because there’s no fucking way this kid knows about the body. My sister couldn’t be that stupid. But she doesn’t answer. “Tell anyone what?!”
“About… you know…” she squeaks.
A litany of curses wants to fly from my lips, but all I manage is a weak wheeze, my chest tightening.
“I didn’t know what to do!” she cries indignantly. “I didn’t know if you were going to be okay or if you were going to come home, and I knew I couldn’t leave… couldn’t leave the—”
“Don’t.” I will fucking kill her if she says body. As of right this second, I’m still not one hundred percent sure what this kid knows, and I don’t think my heart can take it if I do.
Oh, God.
I sound like an old person.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” the kid pipes up. “Nix told me what happened and—”
“Shut up,” I snap. “Shut up and sit down.”
He goes quiet and drops onto the couch obediently, hands clasped between his knees.
But the kid’s too tall, too pristine, and I’m starting to feel dizzy.
This can’t be happening. My mind runs through the possibilities.
It’s way too late to go to the police, not that it was ever an option.
But now someone knows. If this were a movie, I’d have to kill this kid.
But this isn’t a movie, and I’m not about killing my little sister’s nerdy friend. Jesus Christ, we are so fucked.
“Did you go in the bedroom?” I ask him. “Did he go in the bedroom?” I spin on my sister when he doesn’t answer fast enough.
She shuffles on her feet, chewing her lip. “Yes?”
“Fuck.” I run my hand through my hair.
“I’m really not—” the kid tries.
“Just stop talking. Let me think.”
He presses his lips together, shutting up.
Good. That’s something. But there’s no way this doesn’t blow up in our faces.
The first sign of questioning, and this kid is going to sing like a bird.
He’s not family. He’s going to save his own ass.
How could Nix be so stupid? I don’t blame her for killing Marshal.
Do I wish she hadn’t? Of course. But I don’t blame her.
This, though? This is the nail in our coffin.
“The longer you leave the…” the kid starts, “the longer you leave the body, the more at risk—”
“What body?” I turn on the kid, finding a meager crumb of strength. “You don’t know anything about a body. Do you hear me? Nothing.”
“Kira,” Nix whines.
“No! Do you want me to have to kill your little friend here?” It’s an empty threat; we both know it, but it feels good to say. “Because that’s what I’m going to have to do to protect us. I can’t believe you would be so stupid.”
“I thought you were going to die!” she screams. “What was I supposed to do? Tell me!”
“Wait for me!” I shout.
“Were you going to come back as a ghost?! I had to do something!”
“So you call him?” I hitch a thumb in his direction. “He looks like he has a chauffeur, for fuck’s sake.”
“That’s… valid,” the kid says. “Offensive, but… valid.”
I ignore him.
“You would have been better off snagging a homeless guy off the street. But now you’ve involved Mr. Fancy Pants over here who’s going to run straight to the police at the first drop of blood on his loafers.”
“Loafers?” He glances down at his feet. “Do they… do they look like loafers? They’re the new Nikes. I thought they looked cool. But I’m not always the best judge. My brother said—”
“Jesus, do you shut up?!” I snap at him.
“No, actually. Uh, when I’m nervous, I tend to have this problem where—”
I glare at him.
“Right. Shutting up.”
“We have a plan,” Nix says when I finally drag my attention back to her.
“Oh, wonderful.” I snort and drop onto the couch.
“Tell me the plan that two high schoolers came up with.” I rub at my chest, my skin feeling flushed.
Maybe I really should have had that Robert stop at the pharmacy.
When was I supposed to take the first dose of that beta blocker? I can’t even remember.
“You know what, grab me the Red Bull first. I think I’m going to need it,” I say, feeling like I’ve run a mile.
Nix’s dark brows come together, and she frowns. “Can you even have an energy drink? I thought you had a heart attack.”
“Are you a doctor now? I had a tear.” I don’t say that tear was on an artery that’s attached to my heart. She doesn’t need to worry any more than she already is. The last thing I want is for her to end up like me; so stressed out she has a heart attack in her twenties.
“Well, I drank it.” She folds her arms.
“You didn’t.” I narrow my eyes.
“Yep. You can check if you want. If you think you can make it to the fridge without fainting.”
Oh, I’m going to throttle her when this is over.
If it’s ever over. This nightmare seems to be never-ending.
I haven’t once looked at the hall that leads to the bedrooms, my stomach sick with dread.
Is Marshal going to be stiff? Has the blood coagulated?
I don’t want to think about it, let alone face it.
And I deserve a fucking Red Bull if I’m going to have to.
“I can make it to the fridge just fine.” I call my sister’s bluff. “Excuse me for wanting to preserve my strength before I have to go bury a—” I cut myself off, remembering the extra set of ears in the room. I flick a glance at the kid.
Who even is he? I’ve never heard Nix talk about boys.
Unless it’s to complain about how they won’t leave her alone.
She knows just as well as I do that they are all trouble.
Though this one looks more like Nix would be trouble for him.
He sits kind of in on himself, shoulders tucked instead of puffed like the cocky douchebags I went to high school with, and he has what looks like the faintest yellowing of a bruise under his right eye.
He’s got all the right pieces to be cool—haircut, clothes, shoes—but they don’t fit him right yet.
They hang a little loose, like he’s still growing into himself.
My sister could eat him for breakfast if she wanted.
Hm.
Maybe she’s into that.
“What did you say your name was?” I ask him.
He stupidly points to his chest in question.
“No, the other accomplice my sister dragged into this.”
“Well, you told me to shut up. So, I was just trying—” He gulps when I clench my jaw. “Caleb. My name is Caleb Landon.”
Landon? Why does that name sound familiar? Eh. Not a priority right now.
“Look, I know you probably have some sort of crush on my sister, but getting yourself wrapped up in this isn’t worth it. This isn’t like doing her homework for her where the penalty is detention. This is serious. You could end up charged as an accomplice.”
His cheeks turn red, but I’m surprised when he holds his chin higher. “No one’s getting charged with anything because we aren’t going to get caught.”
I snort.
“No, really. My dad’s a lawyer, and he deals with stuff like this all the time. We have to burn the body. I mean, really burn it.”
“Yeah,” Nix pipes in. “And the mortuary on Fifth doesn’t have anyone after hours. If we can break in, we can use the crematory.”
My gaze whips between the two of them, my stomach churning. Is this their plan? We’re going to burn Marshal? I can barely imagine that I’m going to have to touch his corpse, let alone incinerate it.
“Are you two nuts?” My voice comes out shrill. “We aren’t burning anyone.”
“It’s a body, not a person,” Caleb says with a shrug, and my eyes about bulge out of their sockets.
What a little sociopath. Fantastic. Nix has brought home a well-dressed, anxious sociopath.
“Nix, be real here. You think you can burn someone?”
“Caleb says they can’t be recognizable. And that we have to collect the bones and teeth too.”
I can’t stop my mouth from hanging open, horrified at what my sister is saying.
“No body, no problem,” Caleb says, further making my skin prickle until I can’t stand it anymore.
“Stop. Both of you.” I push off the couch, my vision prickling with the effort. “We aren’t breaking into a crematory. We’re just going to bury it. In the woods. Deep in the woods.”
“That’s not—” Caleb starts.
“I don’t care!” I shriek. “That’s what we’re doing. End of discussion. Nix, get the kitchen gloves. And you,” I spin on the little shit that’s way too comfortable with murder, “go home and keep your mouth shut. Or I will fucking kill you.”
The way he pales tells me he believes me.
Good.
We just might survive this.