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“We’ll get through this,” he reassures me. “You can trust me. I don’t plan on ever letting you down again.”
Uncertain of how to interpret his statement, I continue digging until the hole is large enough for a body. I glance at Damon for confirmation, and he nods, setting down his shovel. I do the same before following him back to the car.
“Give me a hand, will you?” he says, popping the trunk.
Tentatively, I grab one end of the body bag, wondering where Damon got it in the first place. But considering he’s obtained a stock of prescription strength medicines without a medical license, who knows how many body bags he has stashed away in his closet.
We carefully maneuver the body out of the trunk and carry it over to the plot. Once there, we lower it into the ground. I’m struck with a brief wave of queasiness, but Damon maintains his calm demeanor. He retrieves his shovel and begins piling dirt on top of the bag.
After it’s completely concealed, with both packed dirt and snow, I look at him. I want to know why he did what he did—in his own words.
“No exaggeration, Bryant was close to taking us down,” he states, an intensity radiating off him. “I wasn’t about to let that happen, so I did what needed to be done. He had to die so our secrets could stay hidden.”
There’s an undeniable finality to his voice. My skin prickles as I’m seized by a chill. The gravity of our predicament slams into me, the weight of it stealing my breath. It isn’t just about staying out of jail now. We’ve both crossed a line that can never be uncrossed.
Damon is a murderer, and I’m equally complicit. There would be no going back from this, even if I wanted to.
But I understand now; he had no other choice.
My teeth chatter. He wraps an arm around me, and I feel his warmth seep through his jacket, heating me. Silence envelops us as we listen to the breeze that rustles the branches. He grasps my hand, and the gesture—one of comfort—turns my heart into a molten blob.
“We did what he had to do,” he says softly. “Now, let’s go home.”
He pulls me closer, and I lay my head on his shoulder.
We’re in this together now.
Epilogue
HER
This is my first time visiting North Carolina.
Kenton is a charming town overflowing with Southern hospitality. Everywhere we go, we’re welcomed with warm smiles and friendly greetings. The locals love to chat and share stories about the area, creating a genuine sense of community that makes me feel right at home. Honestly, I could live here. It’s unfortunate that Damon’s memories taint the state for him.
“She still lives about twenty miles from here,” he tells me, his eyes trained on the road.
I know he’s talking about his abusive mother. “We could get rid of her, too,” I say.
He chuckles, a bemused smile on his lips. “Love the suggestion, but let’s not jump the gun here. We need to focus on what we came here to do first, then we can work something else into our itinerary.”
Damon is still struggling with his demons, a challenge I understand all too well. Letting go of the past is never easy. I offer a supportive squeeze on his knee, and he responds with a small, grateful smile.
We continue driving to our destination—where I can finally put some of my own demons to rest. To fill the silence, I turn up the radio and start humming to the music. Damon joins in a minute later, and soon we’re singing along to his favorite song.
Time inches ever closer to midnight by the time we park out of sight. He cuts the engine before reaching into the backseat to toss me a bag. I unzip it and pull out a mask, one that Damon made for me. It matches his, but instead of white with black features, mine is the inverse.
I tuck my now shoulder-length, freshly dyed black hair behind my ear and place the mask over my face. “Let’s do this,” I say, pulling up my hood.
He grins as he slips his own mask on. “After you, my lady.”
We make our way down the road, sticking to the shadows as we approach that bastard’s house. I hold my head high, feeling butterflies swirling in my stomach as I try to keep calm, while Damon takes my hand and squeezes it, reassuring me.
“You’re sure this will work?” I ask, biting my lip.
“People will be too distracted to notice anything,” he confidently states. “You’ve got this. And if something happens, I’ll have your back.”
Finally, we arrive. Damon’s laser-focused, canvassing the property under the cover of night. Quietly, he checks the windows until he finds one that’s unlocked. He motions for me to follow, and I join him by the side of the house. “This is it. Are you ready?”
