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“I’ll just go.”
If he was in there, it wasn’t like it would be my first decomposed body. I’d once dug up a corpse I’d buried months before because I learned a development was about to be built in that area, and I wasn’t sure the body would have wasted away enough for any possible evidence to be gone. Or enough time had passed to wipe clean memories of people who might link the dead guy to a member of my Family.
I’d be fine.
She would be fucking scarred for life.
Before I could say anything else, though, she was pushing open her door, stepping out, and walking on determined legs toward the warehouse.
“Christ,” I hissed, rushing to join her just as she reached for the door.
She paused, taking a deep breath, then wrenched it open, and strode inside.
I watched as she tensed, step by step, getting closer to the place where she’d been kidnapped, where she’d seen her father get murdered.
I knew the moment we reached the spot.
Because she froze, gaze on the floor.
The clean floor.
Not even a hint of a bloodstain left.
They’d cleaned up.
The chances of her finding her father’s body were… slim to none.
“We can still do a service,” I told her, pressing a hand to her back. In an ideal world, she’d get to bury a body. But this wasn’t the normal world. This was the criminal one. And bodies tended to disappear.
“Yeah,” she agreed, head ducking, making the tears slide off of her chin and onto the ground at her feet.
I didn’t try to tell her it was alright.
It wasn’t.
Her dad was dead.
The only member of her blood family she was close to.
Yeah, I knew that she had me and my family now. But it was different. And it wasn’t okay.
So when she let me, I pulled her against me, and let her cry it out for a while before she sniffled and pulled back, sucking in a deep breath.
“Okay. Let’s go,” she said.
I’d been floating the bills to her and her old man’s apartments for the past few months, something she’d only learned about a few days ago, prompting her to insist we had to go and clean them out, so I wouldn’t be paying for them anymore.
She didn’t want to hear that I didn’t mind paying, that it wasn’t putting a dent in my income.
Besides, some part of me did feel like this was an important step. Going back to wrap up her loose ends, to fully pack up her old life, so we could keep looking forward.
Her apartment was a surprisingly easy task. She had decent stuff, but not a lot of it. The back of the SUV was stuffed with clothes, bedding, and personal items. But she’d opted to leave the furniture.
But now it was time for the hard part.
Digging through her old man’s place.
Where little bits of him would be all around, bringing up memories, tugging on her heart.
