Chapter 14 #2
“Speaking of. I have more information on that. The family who put the bounty out has a strange connection to Holden. The son, a teenager, keyed ‘douche canoe’ onto the side of Holden’s Rolls just days prior to the dad being taken.”
“Ding-dong, team. Now we have a motive. This is him, without a doubt. But why keep him in plain sight?” Looking down at my feet, I rack my brain. Is that why he had cleaning supplies in the hallway that day? Because no amount of bleach can rid any leather interior of this odor.
O is quick to remind us that any theory we may have is only wasted time and energy. “None of that matters. It’s not our job to care or solve the crime. We hunt, we capture, we bring them to auction, and most importantly. We. Get. Paid.”
She isn’t wrong. Our voice of reason. See, we all play an important part in this enterprise.
“Fuck. Parker. Hide. He’s coming.”
“What do you mean, he’s coming? Where?”
“He is already in the elevator.”
Swinging the door closed, my body rushes around to the back of the car. It’s my only option at this point.
“Open the trunk!” I whisper-shout while my heart nearly beats out of my chest.
Without missing a beat, Taco opens it and I waste no time to jump in, while perspiring from every available pore in my body.
“God no. The smell has invaded the trunk too.” In a vile haze, I speak my last words. “Lock the fucking thing back up. Radio. Silence.”
The clicking of his shoes gets louder as Holden approaches. Fuck me. No, he can’t notice my fingerprints while I’m stuck in this hell. I refuse to allow my stay here to be prolonged.
Startled, the car honks. A latch clicks and I squeeze my eyes shut. If I can’t see him, he cannot see me. It’s fucking sound logic. Believe me.
Nervously, I prepare for the trunk to open. To be welcomed by fresh air and an angry face. Instead, nothing happens.
A door slamming fills the void and the engine rumbles to life.
Oh, fuck me. No. I don’t want to go.
“Mr. Carlisle. What has happened here?”
The eyeball.
“We will need to fix this, won’t we? In the meantime, we have some business to handle.”
“Yes, it has everything to do with that annoying girl who cost me my points. She will soon learn. We always collect.”
I’m sorry, but what?
He talks to him? And I’m the crazy one? Absolutely not. I’m talking to you. He is talking to a decaying dead person. The dead father of the boy who keyed ‘douche canoe’ into his car. The math is not mathing here. And I am an avid fan of girl math. Shall I say math once more for good measure?
Math.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I resist the urge to hiss some smart-ass comment to my team. I know they can hear this, though, and they better be thinking the same thing that I want to say.
The moving sensation of the vehicle is unwelcome. I am living in hell. What did I do to deserve this level of karma? Wait, do not answer that.
Reaching into my back pocket, I slide my phone out and decide I need a distraction so I don’t end up vomiting all over myself. Yes, as badass as I am, your girl still gets car sick. And the combination of the odor and motion is attempting to show itself as deadly.
Giddy fingers tingle. We know what time it is.
Scrolling time. Pulling up the app, an adorable otter face greets me.
They always look like they are smiling and this one’s eyes are piercing my heart with rainbows and glitter.
It barks and my eyes widen. Shit. Clicking the volume button, my thumb mutes all sound.
I freeze. Waiting for the car to stop, fearing Holden heard it.
Seconds, which feel like minutes, pass and nothing happens.
We are still on the move and my body relaxes back into the bliss of two otters chasing each other through the rain.
Holden suddenly takes a sharp turn, and another quickly follows.
His tires screech against the warm city concrete.
Each turn shifts my body. Biting my lip, anxiety rears its ugly head.
My mind attempts to stay focused on the otters, but with each turn, worry tries to kill my moment with the cute babies. This asshole will pay for it.
Just as I am getting relaxed once more, this motherfucker slams on the brakes. My body jolts, hitting the side, then rolling to the other. Grunts follow with each impact. I am so not in the mood for this.
Glancing down at my phone, two of the most adorable baby otters are smiling back at me.
Paws are intertwined just before their eyes close to rest. I’ve never seen something so precious in my life and my mood immediately shifts and my mind forgets where I am.
Suddenly, an invasion of bright light shines down upon me.
I’m blinded, holding my free hand over my face.
Fingers spread as a shadow forms before me.
Fuck me.
Instinct and training kicks in. If only Connor could see me now.
“I can. Tac hacked into the street cams.”
That gives me a slightly brighter pep in my step with a hint of showing off sparked.
Bending my knees in toward my chest, I swivel on my bottom, then kick the motherfucker in his hard, muscular chest, pushing him back and away from me.
Using the momentum built, I jump out of the trunk and find Holden has parked us casually on the street in front of a row of brownstones.
Looking forward, Holden is stumbling backward.
His feet attempt to catch him, but imbalance wins and this posh prick falls backward onto the hood of a car.
A ball of laughter erupts from me. I did that!
Jolting my body forward, in an act of intimidation, Holden startles, and I give a cheeky wink. He looks absolutely repulsed. As he should be, the smell inside of his car is fucking rank and if it did not repulse him, I would be very concerned.
People pass us walking on the sidewalk. No one stops. This is just another day in this magnificent city that has seen it all. And getting involved would only cause more hassle. I love it here.
“I have a camera in my trunk. I was watching you the entire fucking time, you crazy bitch.” Holdens spits his words at me like venom. My expression remains unfazed by his words. But I note how bizarre it is that he has a camera in his trunk. Perhaps this gentleman wasn’t his first.
Then, holding a finger in the air, I advise the pompous prick of two things.
“One, I may be crazy but I am not anybody’s bitch.
Two, I think you should know, your friend fucking stinks.
Like, he is so clearly past his best before date.
And I hope he explodes and oozes all over your car.
It’s only a matter of time before his body fills with gas.
Shit will leak out of his asshole, if it hasn’t already.
Then, boom! A brand-new car interior, compliments of his remains. How exciting.”
I finish my declaration with a grin from ear to ear. Holden’s top lip twitches as he rises from the car hood. His hands wipe against his trousers before fixing his shirt sleeves.
“That’s why you had the bucket of water the other day, isn’t it? You were washing him?” I continue poking the bear. This time his eye joins in, twitching the same as his lip. I love this game.
“Leave me the fuck alone.”
I’ve hit a nerve. It’s music to my ears.
“Parker! Take him.” O’s authoritative voice pierces my eardrum. I ignore her and continue on with the game I’m playing with Holden.
“I mean, if you are really attached to him, you could see about embalming? His eye has already fallen out, though. If you try moving his body, who knows what will happen next? His head could pop off next.” If I had a pot, you would find me stirring it as I continue taunting.
“You’re in luck. I’m feeling nice. I may know a guy who knows a little something about taxidermy.
” My brows wiggle, then bile rises in my esophagus.
Ew. Why am I being nice to him? The act alone is making me nearly sick.
Imagine how he would respond to me vomiting on him.
I laugh, hand slapping my exposed thigh while his expression of judgement resumes.
“Absolutely not. Never. I refuse to be indebted to you and Lord knows who else. After getting a glimpse of you, it’s safe to presume this ‘guy’ of yours would be as unhygienic and chaotic as you.
” He is so rude! But it doesn’t end there.
“And you want me to allow them to touch Mr. Carlisle?” A shiver travels up his spine.
Apparently, the thought disgusts him. Well, his stinky-ass friend is far more grotesque, but who am I to judge?
I, apparently am unhygienic and chaotic.
Wait. He has named him. He is attached. This is getting more bizarre by the moment. What made him keep this one? To create a bond with this corpse is more of a bond than he has ever had with a human, according to his file. This is very interesting.
The night he hit me. Mr. Carlisle was dead by then. That’s who he was shouting at in the car when he noticed I didn’t die. My eyes widen as pieces of this puzzle continue to come together. He referenced points just the same as he did in the car before driving off.
I need to go.
I need to talk to the team. This could add another layer to the hunt that we can use in helping us catch him off guard and capture him.
Wasting no time, I take off down the sidewalk, running and weaving through people like a crazy woman. Gasping for air, huffing and puffing, because physical activity is the bane of my existence, I rasp, “This guy is good.”
O is audibly irritated. “I don’t understand. Can you please explain to the class why you didn’t grab him just now?”
Waving her off, I remind her, “That would have been too easy. We don’t do easy.
We do hunts that make my nipples hard. And this one is that.
It’s all unfolding perfectly. Plus, his car really fucking stinks.
I couldn’t last another minute in there.
Not even the otters could make the journey to auction bearable at this point.
And you know how much I love those videos! ”
Ophelia doesn’t respond. She’ll get over it when she’s counting the fat stack that enters her bank account once I text the captured code. Until then. We can taunt our meal just a little bit longer.