Chapter 5 #2
I struggle a little more than Wes did to get this body onto the back of the ATV but once he’s up there and tied up, I’m searching for the fourth victim.
He’s dead thirty minutes later. I’m pretty sure he got the furthest out of the others, which is impressive given Gnarly Pine’s rough terrain the further you get from the house and the business.
Pulling up the next victim on the cameras, I find Wes standing over top of him, one foot on his back to keep the asshole from getting up.
Wes’s gun goes off, once, twice, a third time…
the body jerks and twitches beneath his foot but Wes doesn’t relent.
He fires his gun until the magazine is empty then goes still.
At first, I think the camera feed froze given how long Wes simply stands there, staring down at the man he’s got pinned beneath his foot.
Just as I’m about to close out and head back to the cabin, Wes lifts his foot up and stomps on the corpse’s head.
Over and over his booted foot makes contact with the skull.
I stare, mesmerized by the unusual brutality from Wes.
Out of all of us, he’s probably the most laid-back. That man is nowhere to be seen now.
Wes continues stomping until the skull caves in.
When he’s done, he stumbles back—the heaving of his shoulders lets me know he’s breathing hard.
He gives a single shake of his head before it drops—his chin going to his chest. Knowing that I should give Wes his privacy, I close out of the trail cam app and head back to the cabin.
I pull out the wood chipper and just as I finish filling it with gas, Wes drives out of the woods.
He parks his ATV beside mine and quickly gets to work untying his three guys.
I know it doesn’t matter since this wasn’t a game—but if it had been, Wes totally would’ve won having three kills under his belt and me with only two.
It definitely doesn’t irk me at all.
Nope.
Not. A. Game.
There’s no winner…
My teeth grind together as I lug my two bodies closer to the wood chipper. I’ve already taped the heavy duty bags onto the other end of the machine so that all the pieces of human remains that spill out are caught. Once these corpses are fertilizer, we’ll dry them out and scatter them.
I expect a lecture from Wes about my irrationality as I move around. I absolutely deserve it and I’m willing to hear him out. Except, that’s not what happens. Wes lugs his victims over quietly. His gaze seems distant and when he’s done, he simply steps back and lets me take over.
Shit, is he that mad at me that he can’t even find the words to scold me?
This is the last thing I need.
Wes can’t abandon me now—he’s all I have left!
Choking on my groan, I stomp over to the machine and flip it on.
The wood chipper roars to life, the blades quickly beginning to rotate.
I let it warm up for a bit before I shove the first body into it.
The machine roars and chugs away, ripping flesh, bone, and cartilage to pieces.
The mess is collected in the bag on the other side.
Quickly, I switch the bag out and repeat the process.
I do this five times. Wes watches, his arms crossed over his chest. It’s not until the last bag is filled and tied up and I’ve flipped off the machine that Wes speaks up.
“Put the bodies in the shed. We’ll have a bonfire tomorrow…” he mutters before turning and heading back to the cabin.
“Wait!” I call out, desperately.
Wes pauses, his back still facing me. “What is it, Santi?”
“What?” I demand. “No lecture? No yelling? It’s alright, I can take it. I know I fucked up. I just… I just got overwhelmed and I needed an outlet. I thought this would do the trick.”
“Did it?”
I shake my head as my shoulders fall. “No. It made everything worse.”
“Then you don’t need me to lecture you. You already know this was wrong and since it didn’t help, maybe you won’t do it again. I’m not your dad, Santi. It’s not my job to scold you.”
I might not need him to scold me, but he’s always been the voice of reason for all of us. Scolding, even gently, kind of comes with that role. He’s acting weird. Something is off about Wes tonight and it’s concerning.
Swallowing down my own emotions, I close the distance between us, concerned for my friend. “Wes? Are you… okay?”
Wes chuckles but the sound holds no mirth.
He turns halfway around to look at me. Thanks to the light coming off the back porch, I can see his face.
Despite the heavy shadows cast on it, there’s no missing the absolute exhaustion in his expression.
His eyes are dim, his mouth pulled down into a heavy frown, and his shoulders hang so low. I’ve never seen Wes look so ragged.
“No, Santiago. I’m not okay,” he admits with a heavy sigh.
“My best friend held a gun to my face. My woman is on the run with danger on her heels. And Rhett was in a dark place just a few days before he took off with her—I’m scared because I don’t know how this will affect his mental health.
And you?” He shakes his head. “You’re not eating, drinking, and now you’re pulling bullshit like this.
” He waves his hand at the wood chipper.
“How can I be alright when nothing about this situation is okay?”
Guilt swells up in my chest.
God, I’ve been so fucking selfish. So wrapped up in my own head and drowning in my own emotions, I haven’t even considered how Wes was handling all of this. While he’s been shoving food in front of me and taking charge of Gnarly Pines, he’s also been suffering.
And I’m making it worse.
“Look, I’m sorry, Wes. I’ll be better,” I promise earnestly. “Starting now, okay?”
He gives me a tired smile. “Alright, Santi. Thanks. We need to figure out how we’re going to dispose of these guys’ cars.”
Right.
One more thing we have to do that will take away from being here and ready in case Rhett and Blair need us.
Damn it!
What is wrong with me?
I meant what I said to Wes.
Long after we’ve taken care of the cars and he’s gone to sleep, I find myself in the basement sitting at the very desk Ledger sat at when he initiated the hit on Blair and her dad. My fingers fly over his laptop’s keyboard, my mind racing as I work.
I might not be able to stop the hit but there’s got to be a way to slow it down.
My eyes are burning from staring at the screen but by the time I hear Wesley’s footsteps coming down from the second floor, hope has blossomed in my chest.
I’ve figured it out. There is something I can do for Rhett and Blair, and I’m already in the process of doing it. I can’t stop now.
“Santi?”
I rub my eyes, trying to ease the strain in them.
“Down here, Wes!”
We got rid of the cameras in the house. We both thought there was no need for Ledger to continuously check in on us while he was out hunting Blair and Rhett. The trail cameras are still up but that’s only because we want to know when he shows back up.
Wes’s heavy footsteps make their way down the stairs and over to me. I don’t bother sparing him a glance.
“Have you been up all night? Santi, that’s not good for—”
“I needed to do something,” I interrupt, anxiously. “And I am. I did!”
Wes sucks in a sharp breath. “What? How?”
“I broke past Dixie’s security wall in his private chat room, got through his security firewalls, and gained access to his finances,” I explain with a tired smile.
“I managed to drain most of the accounts dry. I’m still working on a few more but once those accounts are empty, Dixie won’t be able to afford sending people after Rhett and Blair. ”
A large, heavy hand lands on my shoulder and gives me an appreciative squeeze.
“Santi, you’re incredible,” he praises warmly. “Can you see who owns the accounts?”
“No, they’re all offshore accounts under shell corporations. If I had enough time maybe I could get a name, but I have a feeling I don’t have too much longer before Dixie finds out what I’m doing and puts a stop to it.”
“Right,” Wes nods. “Good thinking. Can I do anything to help?”
“Nope, I got this.”
Wes gives my shoulder another squeeze. “I know you do, Santiago. I never doubted you for a second.”