Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Jax
“James is going to kill you when he finds out,” I say.
“Dad isn’t going to find out,” Caleb pleads with me.
We’re standing over the body while Nix sits next to her sister in the back of my car. Kira fell asleep the second I set her down. Well, more like passed out.
“He’ll find out eventually.” I sigh, watching Nix quietly straighten a stray piece of Kira’s hair.
Our father makes a living on finding out what people don’t want anyone to know.
Leverage is his oxygen; secrets his currency.
It’s how he manipulates and blackmails witnesses and keeps his clients happy.
There’s no way he doesn’t find out that Caleb helped conceal a body.
It’s just a matter of time. I’ve only been back in town a week, and if I was able to pick up on the slight change in Caleb, James sure will.
“Please,” Caleb whispers. “They need help. It was an accident.”
He told me that the younger sister was just fighting off the piece of shit at my feet when things got messy, but sympathy has no home in our family.
James won’t care when he finds out. He’ll only see the accomplice they made out of Caleb.
I mean, sure, this is the kind of thing James could make go away for the girls if he wanted, but he won’t want to.
Because those two in my car? They don’t look like they have two pennies to rub together.
They’re beneath him. He thinks in tiers; Clients, threats, assets, problems. These girls don’t have the money or power to belong anywhere but the last category.
He isn’t going to like Caleb even entertaining Nix, let alone helping her hide a body.
I shake my head. “This is your funeral.”
“So, does that mean you aren’t going to kill them?” Caleb confirms.
I nudge the body with my foot. Killing them is what I’m supposed to do.
That’s my bit on payroll, even though I have the same degree as James and spent six years getting it.
I make potential problems go away before they can fester.
My father used to do both, but he doesn’t get his hands dirty anymore, and the only time I get to see the inside of a courtroom is when he’s too busy and sends me in his place.
But that happens about as often as I let problems live. Almost never.
“How you want to explain your car?” I ask without outright answering his question.
“My car?”
I smack the back of his head. “Your car, dipshit. We have to torch it. One microscopic speck of blood, and you’re done. How do you want to explain it to James without mentioning those two?” I nod at the girls.
“I… don’t know.”
“Well, you better figure it out. You’re in the big leagues now.”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “I like my car.”
“Then maybe you should have wrapped the body first.” I step over said body and make my way to the car.
Crossing my arms over the hood, I lean into the back seat. “She going to live?” I ask.
“Hopefully,” Nix glares at me.
Jesus. These two have more attitude than sense. What about a guy with a gun makes them want to antagonize him?
“Wake her up,” I say. “It’s time to show you two how to actually dispose of a body.”
I push away before she can argue. There’s not a chance I’m covering this up without them. When you make your bed, you have to lie in it. And if they ever want to kill someone again, at least they’ll know what to do.
Bodies are awkward weight, nothing like moving a piece of furniture or a flat screen.
It doesn’t matter how strong you are, you’ll be humbled by the inelegant form of a dead body.
That’s why, when Caleb bends to help me, I shove him back and tell him to get the gas from my trunk.
One day he’ll be strong enough to do this on his own, but for now, it’s easier if I carry it alone.
Waddling through uneven terrain with one of us walking backward would be a test of my patience anyway.
I hoist the sorry bastard up, utilizing the momentum I’ve used so many times before, and sling his abdomen over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” A breathless voice sounds behind me, but I don’t need to turn to know it’s Kira.
“Just keep up,” I say.
“Put him down. My sister and I can do it.”
“No such luck.” I start my ascent into the woods.
This may be their mess, and while I think they should have to clean it up themselves, I’m not about to let a woman carry anything in my presence. I also don’t think Kira could carry a glass of water right now, but that’s beside the point. I may kill people, but I’m nothing if not a gentleman.
I’m surprised when she doesn’t complain further, but I would imagine that has to do with her battling between protesting and keeping up.
These aren’t the hiking kind of woods. They’re the steep and crumbly kind that, without proper shoes, might have you tumbling to your death.
I mean, props to her for knowing better than to try and bury it in a populated area, but she wouldn’t have been able to dig a hole more than half a foot here.
She’s fucking lucky I showed up.