Chaining Justice (Miami Knives Book 5) by Clarissa Bright

Author:Clarissa Bright [Bright, Clarissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven: Bash

We stopped by the side of the road in the Everglades, Zane killing the engine of his Tesla before we got out. It had been a relatively quiet drive, with me glancing every now and then at the backseat, where Darius' head remained. As if it could roll off.

"It's just adding insult to injury," I said as Zane killed the engine. "That we have to get rid of the evidence when we're the ones threatened with it."

Zane pushed open the car door and shot me a rueful look, "Ain't that always the way?"

I yanked the back door open, cringing at the dull whack of Darius' head rolling against the side of the seat. The smell hit me first, thick and coppery. God, the things you never thought you'd get used to in this life. We’d put it on ice for a few weeks while Hassan recovered, not wanting to be seen driving out to the Everglades…

…but then we’d had to do something.

Tell his family.

Fuck, this was rough.

"Remind me to add 'body disposal' as a non-negotiable in my next contract negotiation," I muttered under my breath, pulling out a pair of thick latex gloves from the glove compartment.

"Did you say something?" Zane called from where he was checking our surroundings, his sharp gaze scanning the overgrown foliage and murky waters for any sign of movement.

"Nope," I replied too quickly, struggling to pull on my glove with more force than was strictly necessary.

We'd chosen this particular spot for its remoteness and accessibility to alligators - nature's perfect disposal system. But as I crouched next to Darius' head, I couldn't help but feel a cold chill creep up my spine. This was Vito De Luca's message to us: we were as disposable to him as this lifeless head was to us.

"Ready?" Zane asked, breaking into my thoughts. He had already rolled up his sleeves and was wearing a matching pair of gloves as he reached for the black garbage bag in the trunk.

I nodded, swallowing down the bile that rose in my throat. We each grabbed a side of the bag and hoisted it over the side of the road, letting gravity take care of the rest. The splash echoed ominously through the quiet night as ripples spread out across the surface of the water.

"Did you tell Justice about this?" Zane asked.

I licked my lips. "Yeah," I said. "And if I hadn't, she would've heard it from one of you. I don't want..."

"What?"

"I saw a lot of shit growing up. I don't want my nephew to see half of what I saw."

Zane nodded, his gaze lingering on the dark waters. "You're not your father," he said, the sunlight casting shadows over his features. "Hell, you're not even your brother. You're better than both of them ever were."

Somewhere between the chaos and the bloodshed, Zane had seen something worth saving. We were a team; we had each other's back no matter what. But there was more than just loyalty there. There was respect, understanding, and trust.

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