Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
NOLA
With the streets being practically dead, I make it to the morgue in under five minutes. It’s the main one my dad works from and the only one I have a key to.
Pulling around back, I park next to the back entrance. I’m on a bit of a time crunch, but I can’t rush or panic because that leads to making mistakes.
As I grab the bloody dirt-filled shirt from the trunk and head inside and down to the basement.
On the way down, I start to wonder when the whole shock-of-taking-a-life-thing is going to set in.
Because I feel no guilt. None whatsoever.
Does this make me a sociopath?
No, because I do care about people, such as my mom, my dad, the guys, and Skittles of course.
The idea of ever hurting one of them makes me sick.
But Scarlett? I couldn’t care less.
If I’m being honest, I actually enjoyed it. I loved watching the life drain from her eyes, the warmth of her blood seeping over my hand, and the way her body dropped as I ended her life.
She thought she could take what belongs to me. And I wasn’t going to stand there and allow that to happen.
I’m so fucking sick and tired of people treating me like I’m nothing.
I don’t care if people like me. I don’t want anyone's approval. But for people to go out of their way to make someone else's life miserable, to treat them like they’re nothing but shit on the bottom of their shoes… it’s demeaning and uncalled for.
People like them will never change. Even if you stand up for yourself, they can’t stand someone challenging them.
Maybe it’s better to just get rid of them completely. It’s not like people are going to miss a self-centered bully.
You and I both know I just saved the world from having to expose themselves to the likes of her.
No one will miss her.
Okay, so maybe her dad. But that's about it.
And what did he expect? His daughter was out here literally signing her life away to be used as some depraved sex toy.
Not that I have much room to judge. If I had the chance to be in her position, I’d have done it too.
But we’re not talking about me.
I keep the lights off until I get down to the basement, where the crematorium is.
A lot of the morgues my dad owns are more modernized, but this one is one of the oldest in the city.
It has that creepy, dark, and sinister vibe. I love it. I have ever since I was a little kid.
I’ve always been fascinated by death. I was four when I saw my first dead body. Mom came to bring Dad lunch one day, and I was with her.
Mom left me upstairs so she could go take the food to my dad. Of course, I didn’t sit still and snuck downstairs, following her.
Dad was in the middle of doing an autopsy, and I saw everything.
Mom freaked out, Dad looked shocked, but I just walked right up to them and, like any little kid would, I asked a million different questions.
Mom ended up leaving me with Dad to watch him work, and that's how I started coming to work with my dad until I was forced to spend my days at school.
I still came in after school and on the weekends, though.
There’s something about the quietness of this place that always settles me.
I might have agreed to attend college, but if it were up to me, I’d just come here and begin working with my dad right away.
He did agree to let me take over one of the morgues once I get the proper education.
To become a forensic pathologist, I have to get a degree in medicine. Waste of time if you ask me, I already know pretty much everything I need to know.
It’s not an easy job to get, the number of years you have to be in school to be able to be a forensic pathologist is crazy.
Do I plan on doing everything required? Fuck, no. I’ll do my four years of college and four years of medical school, then I’m done. Fuck the residency and fellowship.
If anything, I’ll just get an apprenticeship with Dad.
Another eight years in school after just spending twelve years of my life doing it is way beyond too much for me.
I want to get away from people, not be around them for longer.
It takes a second for the fluorescent lights to flicker on, illuminating the room in a bright white glow.
The room smells of death and antiseptic. I used to wear a bit of Vicks under my nose when I was younger because it’s not the best smell in the world, but I’ve since gotten used to it.
The way this part of the morgue is set up is when you first walk out of the elevator, it’s the surgical room, where my dad does all the autopsies.
There are a few tables around the room and one under a big light overhead. As well as a sink and tool cabinets.
The room to the left is the freezer where we keep the bodies. It can hold up to eight, while some of the other morgues can hold up to forty.
To the right is the cremation room where we burn all the bodies for well, cremation.
I veer to the right, turning on the light to the room before heading over to the cremation machine.
Opening the door, I toss the shirt in before closing it.
“Now,” I sigh. “Time to clean up the best I can.”
Heading back into the main room, I go to the sink and wash my hands with hospital-grade disinfectant soap.
Once that's done, I gather everything I’m going to need to transport her stupid body over here.
“I think that's everything,” I mutter to myself, looking at all the supplies in the back of my trunk. A plastic tarp, gloves, bleach, along with some scrubbing brushes, and a light.
Getting blood out of cement isn't going to be easy. Shit, maybe I should have just left her behind a tree or something.
“No need to worry about it now.” I close the trunk and get inside the Jeep.
On the drive back to the cemetery, I listen to music, humming along. It’s not until I get back that I realize I’m still not wearing a shirt.
“Shit.” I look down at my black bra. Oh well. The sooner I deal with Scarlett, the sooner I can go home, shower, and get some much-needed sleep.
Not that it’s going to happen any time soon, seeing as it’s going to take around two hours to burn her damn body.
I mean, I could always take a nap on the couch in the reception area.
Worry about that later, Nola, focus on what you’re doing right now.
Scanning my surroundings, I check to make sure no one is watching before gathering everything. I head toward the entrance I used before and curse when I hear that the party is still going strong.
Fuck. How am I going to get in here, wrap her body up, and drag it to my Jeep without anyone seeing me?
“Might have to take the long way around,” I mutter. “Great. I hate this girl. She was nothing but an inconvenience in life, so, of course, she’s going to be one in death.”
Creeping my way to the mausoleum I left her in, I avoid the party the best I can. Thankfully, this cemetery is big, so it’s not that hard.
“Oh, good, you’re still here.” I stare down at Scarlett’s lifeless body, grateful I remembered to grab a headlamp. It’s dark as fuck in this place. My nose wrinkles as I get a better look at her than I did before. She’s in a lot worse shape than I thought.
“They really did a number on you,” I chuckle, crouching down in front of her while slipping on a pair of gloves.
“Guess all that time spent on your looks was a waste. No one cares when you’re dead.
” Cocking my head to the side, I reach over and drag her eyelids closed.
“Also, stop looking at me. You’re freaking me out.
” Then I close her mouth. “There, that's better.” I nod. “Now, let’s get you out of here, shall we, and into a place that’s a little…
warmer.” I chuckle at my own joke. “Get it? Because I’m gonna throw you in an oven that's going to burn your body. Warm, fire, you know…” I stare at her. “Damn, tough crowd.”
A chirping sound makes me jump. “Holy shit, Skittles, you scared the crap out of me.” I smile. “You liked my joke, right?”
He tosses his head back, and I grin. “See?” I look down at Scarlett. “He gets it.”
Placing the tarp down next to the body, I work at getting her onto it by lifting her at the side and rolling her body.
“Fucking hell,” I grunt, pushing her with force. “I forgot how much a dead body can weigh.”
Her body rolls over, and she lands face-first onto the tarp with a thud. “Talk about breaking a sweat.” I laugh, getting to my feet. “This is going to be my workout for the week.”
Once I have her body wrapped securely, I work on cleaning up the mess she left behind.
“Huh,” I hum. “Not as much blood as I expected.” I get on my hands and knees and look over my shoulder at the wrapped-up body.
“One more inch to the left and it would have been like a scene from Carrie.” I laugh.
“Better for me that it ended up this way instead.”
By the time I’m done scrubbing, my arms are screaming in pain.
“I hate my life,” I whine, leaning against the stone casket in the middle of the room, panting heavily as I drip with sweat.
Skittles makes a noise, and I shoot him a look.
“I know I did this to myself,” I grumble.
“Why do you think I’m fixing it?” I wave a hand to the drying bleach on the ground and the body next to it.
“Enough out of you. Anyways, you're no help.
I have to drag her heavy ass back to the Jeep, get her in the damn trunk, and down to the oven. Tell me how that's fair?”
He just blinks at me.
“See? No help,” I huff, getting to my feet.
Knowing I’m going to need two hands to get her back to the Jeep, I gather the cleaning supplies first and take them back to my car before coming back for her body.
“Alright, Scarlett. Time to go on a little adventure.” Grabbing her feet, I start to drag her body out of the mausoleum. I make it a few feet before I have to stop.
“Did I mention how much I hate my life right now?” I’m panting like I just ran a marathon. I give myself a second to catch my breath before I keep going. “How much longer?” I grunt as I drag her another inch, then another.
Stopping, I look over my shoulder and groan. Still a little ways to go.
“Stupid party. It’s, like, past midnight now. Go fucking home so I don’t have to take the long way,” I mutter as I go back to pulling.
I’m in the middle of rounding a corner of another mausoleum with my ass sticking out as I grunt, pulling Scarlett toward me, when I bump into something.
My eyes widen as I jerk up fast, spinning around to see a guy standing there.
“Hi!” I squeak out. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! This isn’t good. Not at all!
He blinks at me, eyes giving away that he’s heavily intoxicated.
Okay, maybe I can work with this.
“What are you doing?” he slurs, blinking slowly before his eyes drop to my chest. He gives me a lazy smile. “Hey, nice tits.”
“Uhhh, thanks?” My brows furrow. “Hey, eyes up here, buddy.” I snap my fingers in front of his face.
“What?” He blinks a few times before his brows furrow. “What's that?”
“Nothing,” I tell him.
“Why is it shaped like a body?” he questions, then his eyes widen. “Oh shit. Is it an actual body?”
“No.” I snort like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Of course not.”
“Then what is it?”
“You know, you ask too many questions,” I sigh, then cock my fist back and send it flying straight into the man's face.
He lets out a groan before dropping to the ground.
“Fuck!” I hush scream, biting my lower lip as pain splinters throughout my hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I shake it out, whimpering at the throb.
Skittles lands on a gravestone nearby and starts to chirp, laughing. He. Fucking. Laughs. At. Me.
“Okay, we’re beefing, sir!” I point at him, glaring. “You’re being unnecessarily mean.”
Bringing my attention to the guy on the ground, I press my fingers against his neck and sigh in relief when I feel a strong pulse.
I didn’t think that I killed him from that punch, but I’m just covering my bases. The last thing I need to do is get rid of another body. If I thought this bitch was heavy, that fucker would be ten times worse.
If anything, I’d just leave him here. He could have easily gotten into a drunken fight or tripped and hit his head.
“Sleep it off, buddy. Sorry about the headache you’re going to have in the morning. Make sure to take some pain meds, you’re going to need them.” I give him a pitying tap on the chest before going back to what I was doing.
Thankfully, no one else interrupts me, and I manage to get Scarlett to my Jeep.
“Okay, so now… how the hell do I get you into the trunk?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck.
I take a moment to think. “I got it!”
It takes some effort, but I manage to prop Scarlett up, leaning her against the back of the Jeep so it looks like she’s sitting.
“This is where your height comes in handy,” I tell her, climbing into the trunk. Getting to my knees, I wrap my arms around her throat and pull her into the trunk by her neck.
Not the most graceful way to do it, but you try getting a body into a trunk and then tell me how easy it is.
“There we go.” I smile down at the lump. “Not the most comfortable position—sorry about that—but I gotta make do with what I got. You understand, right?”
Closing the trunk, I get into the Jeep and get the fuck out of here.
On the drive back to the morgue, I’m in better spirits. At least we have gurneys to get her from my trunk to the basement.
Rolling the window down, I take in a deep breath at the feeling of the fresh air skating over my sweaty mess of a body.
“You know, I think this is the most time we’ve ever spent together.
And honestly, I’m having fun. Aren’t you?
” I ask, looking in the review mirror at the lump of plastic.
“ I’m glad we could do this. Even better that it’s while you’re dead.
You know, not having to hear your voice is nice.
It really did sound like nails on a chalkboard and made me cringe.
I’d say I’m going to miss you, but you damn well know that's a lie.”
A few minutes later, we pull up to the morgue.
“You stay here.” I look over my shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere.” Then I snicker at myself. “Get it? You can’t… because you're DEAD!”
I’m met with silence.
“Where’s Skittles when you need him?” I mutter, getting out.
Once I grab the gurney, I load her up, which took a lot less time than it did to get her in the damn Jeep.
“Alright, let’s get this party started!” I grin as I push her into the building.
As we take the elevator down to the basement, a smile forms on my face.
I hum the song that's stuck in my head, feeling good about the fact that this is all going to be done and over with, and I can put this night behind me.
The elevator door dings just before it slides open. I’m about to push her out when my eyes land on a man standing there, arms crossed, a questioning look in his eyes.
Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh god.
“Dad?”
What the fuck is he doing here?
Well, this night just took a turn.