Chapter Twenty
Bones
“It’s not me,” I say with a smirk, gesturing backward with my eyes.
Sunny’s heart leaps into her throat as she tries to lift her head.
One last time her gaze locks with Luka’s.
I can see his reflection in her eyes. He stares at her in disbelief, an absent look of absolute denial marring his once handsome features.
And then he drops to the floor, blossoming like a splayed flower or butterfly pinned to a canvas, in a red pool of his own blood.
I hear him gurgle and then the house is silent, save for the rapid beating of my heart.
“You killed them all,” Sunny whispers, her tone tainted by awe and horror. “You saved me, Maria.”
I cut through the other three cable ties and soon my sunshine is free. I help her get dressed and look her dead in the eyes. “Sunny, the pigs are already on their way. If you’re with me, I need you to focus as best you can right now. Can you do that for me, baby?”
My blonde angel blinks at me and then nods as if pulling herself together and gathering her courage. “I think so,” she says, her stunning sapphire blue eyes bloodshot and visibly exhausted.
“Okay, good. Now, we have to move—fast. We have men on the inside who can make this go away, but your ex complicates things.” I rub her arms gently, willing her some of my strength. “I need you to drive his car ... with his body in it,” I add. Yeah, there’s just no sugarcoating that.
Sunny’s eyes are as wide as the moon and she turns inward, rocking on the bed beside me. “I’m going to prison, aren’t I?” she gasps, her gaze unfocused. “I’m never going to see you again.”
I grip her shoulders more tightly and force my angel to look me in the eyes. “Sunny, no one is going to prison. We’re going to do our part and then the rest will be taken care of by the cleaners, okay?”
The curvy beauty is shaking in her boots, but she nods again. “I can do it,” she says finally. “You’ll lead the way, right?”
My whole body shivers with a wholesome warmth I haven’t felt since I was a child.
It’s a sense of home and belonging. A mutual connection and comfort.
“I’ll lead the way,” I say, reassuring her.
“I know a place.” Sending her to fetch the car, I straighten out Luka’s corpse and roll him up in a rug, before dragging his dead ass out the back door.
Lumping him into the trunk, I close it with a satisfying thunk.
“Okay. You’re all set. All you need to do is follow me, angel, and we’ll be home safe. ”
The honey-haired goddess licks her lips and toys with the car keys as she fights her anxiety and fear with an ass-load of courage. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Bones,” she says with a conviction that inspires hope. “I’m not ready for this to be over yet.”
The innocence in her baby blues breaks me wide open all over again and I nod. “It’s not over, sunshine,” I promise. “I told you ... this is just the beginning. We’ve got this.”
Sunny swallows hard and hugs me tight, burying her face against my chest. “I’m scared, Bones,” she admits with a raw honesty that hurts as much as it heals.
“Me too,” I admit, lifting her chin. “But being brave isn’t about not being scared, my Daisy Girl. It’s about doing what has to be done anyway. It wouldn’t be brave if it wasn’t scary, would it?”
“Maria, what if I’m pulled over? What if—”
I cut her off. “That’s not going to happen, do you understand me? Just drive. That’s all you’ve got to do. Stay in the lines, match the speed limits, and you’ll be fine, I promise.” Two minutes later we’re on the road, the sound of sirens drawing nearer with each passing moment.
My hog powers through the darkness, the headlight shining brightly through the gloom of the early hours as I knock off mile after mile.
Behind me, my poor, brave, Renaissance-Aphrodite-come-to-life drives on, tailing me at a safe and inconspicuous distance.
Pride fills my veins, thrumming with confidence through my body.
It’s going to be okay, baby. We’re on the home stretch.
What I feel for Sunny defies all logic. I’ve been over it a thousand times in my head and I keep coming to the same conclusion—the only conclusion. We’re just meant to be.
The St. Augustine Police Department wail past us as we head in the opposite direction, their sirens shrieking through the night as their red and blue emergency lights illuminate the darkness.
I recognize our guy on the inside, and we share the briefest of glances as we pass one another.
In their wake, I nod to myself, driving on until we reach a fork in the road.
One side disappears into the shadows on the other side of Shands Bridge, while the other leads back to the I-95.
I flick on my turn signal and take the road less traveled, across St. John’s River.
“All right,” I say to myself. “Now, we just need to find this bastard a place to rot.”
We weave our way through Green Cove Springs, past Ashbury Lake, and into Middleburg, until we reach Jennings State Forest. It’s only just over an hour’s drive, but it feels like forever.
I take Bill’s Cemetery Road—a dirt road and hiking trail—before deviating from the well-known paths and venture onto smaller, less-used trails.
I draw a map in my mind, my eagle eyes taking note of every turn and every natural feature I see as we drive deeper into the forest, ensuring I know the way back to the road so that we can wrap up this fleeting nightmare once and for all.
When we’re far enough into the sticks that I feel satisfied that we won’t be disturbed, I pull over.
Sunny pulls up just behind me and dips her lights, leaving them on parkers to illuminate the forest in a low glow before I hear her ignition switch off.
Dismounting, I drop my kickstand before walking around to open the driver’s side door of her ex’s car, letting my pretty girl out. “Are you okay, baby?” I ask, stroking her hair as she crushes herself into me on unsteady feet.
“I did it,” she says. “I think I almost shit myself when the cops drove past, but I made it. What now?”
I hold her close for a minute and then kiss her, reminding her of what we’re fighting for.
“We need to bury the body,” I answer, ripping off the proverbial bandage.
“I mean, I need to bury the body,” I correct, not wanting to add to my beautiful, tragic sunshine’s already heavy emotional and physical burden.
“I brought a shovel.” Removing it from my Harley, I find a spot where the earth is soft between a pair of flowering dog woods and start digging.
An hour in, Sunny takes the shovel from me without a word and begins to dig, stabbing at the moist earth in an erratic, but steady rhythm that makes sense to her.
Another hour later, I hear her muttering under her breath.
“You cut me down,” she whispers in the darkness, speaking to a dead man, while lost to the catharsis of physical labor.
“You made me feel small all the time! You were going to sell me off like a fucking heifer!”
I let her have her moment, then rummage through my panniers and take a swig of water from my canteen. I share it with my girl as she wipes the sweat from her brow. “Baby, it’s time to take a break now,” I soothe, my heart aching at the sight of my knockout digging a shallow grave. “It’s my turn.”