Grave by Savannah Rylan

Author:Savannah Rylan [Rylan, Savannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pink Empire Publishing
Published: 2018-08-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Grave

I gathered Everly up in my arms and tucked her in bed. She cried herself to sleep against the damn toilet and it made me sick. But I knew I was right. I knew her brother was calling the damn shots. That was the only reason they were so hot and fucking heavy trying to rein down on Everly. I tucked her in bed and smoothed her hair from her face, then I rummaged through my bedroom and found another pair of jeans.

Then, I tossed the bloodied pair onto the fire.

I opened the flue to let those jeans burn up and filter into the woods. I would put it out before a noticeable smoke line went through the trees. After the fucker scared Everly, I didn’t think he would be dumb enough to come back to the cabin right away. So we had some time to stay and figure shit out.

I reached for my cell phone and scrolled through my contacts, then came across a name I hadn’t used in a long time. Ditch. I called him that because people only called that son of a bitch whenever they needed help out of a tight spot.

As in, when people dug themselves into ditches they couldn’t get out of.

“Who the fuck’s name is this on my phone?” Ditch asked.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” I said. “It’s been a while.”

“Dick. You owe me a damn beer from over a year ago.”

“I’ve been busy,” I said.

“Hopefully finally getting that cock of yours wet. The hell you want?”

“That’s all you got for me after a year of not talking?” I asked.

“Hey, you wanna be pals? Act like one.”

I grinned and sat down on the couch.

“You done being a little bitch?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m good. How the hell are you?” Ditch asked.

“In a fucked up place and I need help.”

“Well shit. You called the right fucking guy. What can I do you for?”

“Two fake I.D.’s and a city that doesn’t know my fucking name.”

“Oh shit. Who’d you kill?”

“I’m about to kill someone if I don’t get these I.D.’s and get the fuck out of town,” I said. “How much and how long?”

“Usual price. Five hundred a pop. I’ll throw in the rest of the papers if you bring me some damn beer. You drank all mine last time.”

“How quickly can you get them to me?”

“You know how it works. You come to me or you don’t get them at all.”

“Ditch, I can’t do that. I’ve got someone with me and I can’t leave them,” I said.

“Ah, on the job. Then you know the meet up place. Outskirts of town by the woods. That’s the best I can do,” he said.

“That’s better than in the middle of Redding, so I’ll take it.”

“What’s the job?”

“You know what I do and you know I can’t talk about it,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Look. I’ll have your I.D.’s and all the papers ready for you in a few hours. Meet around midnight?”

“Edge of the woods by the gravel back road?” I asked

“Fuck.

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