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Obediently, Jake tossed his keys over.
I stepped in front of Leander as he turned to go. “Where are you going now?”
“Go home. You’ll have plausible deniability.”
“I can’t believe I am actually telling you this, but you can’t just charge in there and kill someone. We need a plan, Leander.”
He shook his head and darted around me, striding to Jake’s truck. “That man dies tonight. I don’t care if I go back to jail.”
“WellIfucking care. I just got you back!” I snapped, hurrying after him. “Can we take a second and think—”
Leander spun quickly, his fist flying outward. Not toward my face, thankfully, but right in my diaphragm. Fucking asshole.
“Je suis désolé, mon coeur,” he whispered as I doubled over, trying to breathe. Sorry, my ass!
By the time I could stand upright again, he was speeding down the road, angry dust clouds spewing out behind him.
Wheezing, I stumbled around the side of my car and flopped into the driver’s seat. I didn’t bother calling him. I knew where he was going and I knew what was going to happen once he got there.
* * *
Dale Holliday livedin the same decrepit trailer Cole spent a quarter of his childhood in, in the same rundown trailer park on the outskirts of Easton. Half of it had been ripped away in a tornado a few years ago. Cole lamented it didn’t take his father too. Leander was on his way to rectify that.
I caught up to Leander once we made it back across the river, speeding and swerving along behind him as he tore through the sleeping countryside. There was no stealth involved. No swapping cars or wearing different clothes. None of the intelligence either of us typically used in our crimes.
Nope, we drove right up to Dale’s trailer at the end of the row and parked like we were there to drop off a fucking casserole.
Leander kicked the driver’s door open and snatched something out of the bed of the truck while I was still trying to put my car in park. He didn’t acknowledge my presence before he rushed inside, as dark as a shadow.
I didn’t even bother closing my car door. I bolted after him, in time to hear a thud, a surprised “oof!” and an even louder thud.
When I burst through the door, Cole’s dad was sprawled on the floor. Leander stood over him, holding something long in his hand. Dale didn’t ask any questions — it seemed he knew the reason for our visit. That didn’t mean he was going down without a fight.
Thanks to me breaking his kneecap, the asshole wasn’t able to move very fast. But he was still a sizable man, so when he punched the side of Leander’s knee, it dropped him like a sack of potatoes. Once they were more or less level, Dale swung a beer bottle at Leander’s head. The brown glass shattered, knocking Leander to the side.
Dale heaved himself onto his belly and started crawling away. Where he thought he was going, I had no idea. I didn’t give him the opportunity to get very far before I stomped on the back of his knee, right where I’d broken it previously.
He roared in pain, freezing in place.
Leander was on his feet again, favoring his left leg. Blood dripped down the side of his face, but he didn’t seem the least bit concerned. Hefting something in his hands, he brought it down on the back of Dale’s head in one heavy blow.
Dale’s skull split like a watermelon, splattering gore everywhere. When Leander lifted it a second time, I finally saw what it was. A sledgehammer. Way more effective than his usual weapon of choice, I’d give him that.
After the third hit, Dale’s head ceased being a recognizable object.
A pile of pulverized goo was all that remained by the time Leander’s arms gave out. Gasping for each breath, he dropped the sledgehammer a second before he collapsed.
I caught him from behind and dragged him back, out of the circle of carnage. Blood and sweat were smeared across his face. His hands, likewise, were dark and wet. His whole body shook like a leaf and I really hoped Jake had some hillbilly snack in the truck like jerky, or seeds of some sort. I’d take anything to keep Leander from passing out.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” His scolding was far less effective when he had to speak between labored panting.
“Oh yeah? Where am I supposed to be?”
“As far away from me as possible. Somewhere safe.”
He tried to pull out of my arms, but I held on to him, nuzzling the side of his face. “Don’t start with that curse bullshit. I don’t believe in curses and even if I did, I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to get rid of me the old fashioned way.”
“Murder?”
