Chapter 42
Zane
After catching my breath, I scrutinized the bleeding body. We drove our motorcycles because we didn’t want to leave heavy tracks, but I hadn’t thought past that point. What the fuck were we supposed to do with the body? We couldn’t leave it. It had to go into Chin’s storage unit.
“We need to call Keith,” I muttered, helping Taven to his feet.
“Keith can’t do anything. He’s gonna be laid up for at least six weeks.”
We could call Quinn, but I didn’t really want to pull her in any deeper than she already was. Not to mention, I wasn’t sure if she had the stomach to dispose of a dead body.
“He won’t have to do anything. We’ll drag the cop close to our bikes, and when Keith pulls in, we will load the body and bring it to the storage unit.”
Taven didn’t like the idea, and I didn’t blame him. Just like how I didn’t want anything to happen to Quinn, he didn’t want anything to happen to Keith. Hell, I didn’t want anything to happen to him either. He was not only our chapter president but my friend and brother. I loved him like family. “We can’t leave him here. We have no way to tie him to Chin.”
Taven brushed off his clothes. “We have the gun and his phone. The plan can still work.”
I shook my head. “It won’t work. We can’t tie Chin in unless the cops find the storage unit.”
“The cell phone! Remember?”
I wanted to pull my hair out as I began pacing. “Bro, hear me out. We can do that and leave the body here, but is there any guarantee someone won’t find it before we get back? We can’t get Chin’s phone until tomorrow night. Just fucking call him.”
Taven slumped his shoulders, defeated. The call audibly rang four times before Keith finally picked up.
“Tell him to stay on the road,” I instructed. “That way, we don’t leave tracks.”
Taven grumbled but did as I asked. When he hung up, he dropped to his knees and searched the bloody clothing for the man’s cell. Sliding it into his pocket, Taven grabbed one leg and gestured for me to hold the other.
Together, we pulled the body through the brush and into the open field. It was still dark; sunlight wouldn’t hit the field until around seven o’clock, which gave us plenty of time to escape. Nevertheless, it was hard to keep my anxiety down. What if someone searched for the source of the gunshot? What if the cops were waiting for us when we returned to our bikes? What if the wrong person passed us on the road when we were trying to load the body?
My heart felt like it was about to pound out of my chest. I could feel the steady thud, thud, thud against my ribs with every step we took. It didn’t help that Taven could only use one arm to pull the dead weight. If we didn’t stop getting our asses kicked, we would never get away with this.
The moment we got to our bikes, we dropped the body and headed down the gravel path to the open road. Keith hadn’t shown up yet, but I wasn’t surprised; we were two towns over from where we lived. After about a half hour, headlights came into view, forcing Taven and me to seek shelter in the tree line. When the black truck stopped and Keith hopped out with an industrial-sized roll of cling wrap, we emerged from our hiding spot. “Don’t want him bleeding everywhere.” He tossed me the roll.
Naturally, I was stuck with cleaning up. Bastards forgot I had been shot, too. Huffing, I stomped over to the body and started with the pig’s feet, rolling him up. When I was done, it looked like a shiny mummy. The fucker weighed a ton, so getting the body into the back of the truck was not easy.
Slamming the tailgate shut, Keith covered the bed with a tarp. “Meet you two at the storage shed.”
The door to Chin’s unit was already open when we arrived, ready for us to tug the body inside and unwrap the plastic so the scent of rot would permeate the air. We needed to hurry. Even though we sold drugs to the storage owner, we didn’t trust him to keep this secret. I looked at the wall where we hung up one of those plot boards. There were pictures, victims, and schedules of where they would be. Chin seemed to not realize that every murder took place on one of his days off. The man would have no solid alibi. So far, so good. Onto the next part of the plan.