We wrap the body with the loose soil over the corpse. Once the dirt covers it, Chaca walks closer carrying a white, covered bucket. He lifts the lid. Pungent fumes reach my nose; neither Chaca nor Rashon reacts to the smell, but it makes my nose twitch—Onyx’s face twists. I step closer and peer inside. There is a twisted mass of what appears to be intestines and blood. Maybe organs. “What are they from?” They could be human for all I know.
“Do you want to know?” Rashon’s question has me looking up. His dark eyes challenge me, and I shake my head because that look means I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know where they got the blood and rotting flesh that his enforcer pours over the top of the shallow grave. “The flies, wild dogs, and scavengers will take care of the rest. Thank fuck that it’s summer. Should take a few days for the body to start to attract the flies.”
“Will the police investigate it?” I ask, worried for Ivory.
“Doubtful. That bastard wasn’t well liked and I know he didn’t have a family. I’ll talk to them.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that the VP of the Legion Lords knows people on the force. They control the entire neighborhood.
Chaca hands Onyx the bucket. “Clean the bucket at the back of the truck. Use the rest of the buckets of water. Wash the tarp.”
I pick up the remaining water and pour it on the bed of the truck, the rust and blood blend, and I can’t tell which is which.
“Strip. Take everything off. Shoes too,” Rashon barks. “Put them in the plastic tarp when you’re done. Rinse with the jugs of water.”
Onyx and I both strip naked and toss our clothing on the blue tarp. Thankfully, my dick isn’t as hard anymore. Rashon tosses us a bag of clothing from the front of the truck on the ground.“Look for shirts that are similar to what you were wearing. The pants don’t matter, but in case there were cameras, you shouldn’t look different from the waist up.”
I dig through and find a black T-shirt like the one I was wearing and a pair of jeans that are too tight to fit over my thick thighs, but I pull them up sans underwear. They will have to do. Luckily, Onyx and I both wore black, and there was plenty of dark colored clothing.
Rashon wraps up our clothing and tosses it in the back, and then opens another tarp in the same color, re-covering the bed of the truck like it was before. “Get in.”
We get in the car, and I stare at the location beyond the trees where my stepfather’s body is buried. My mind backtracks to earlier—the memories of my stepfather’s death. The moment I felt his life drain out of him. My cock starts to harden at the recollections. A lazy dribble of sticky cum oozes from the head of my cock, coating the inside of my borrowed boxers, and I don’t know what to think about it. Killing Mikey made blood pump through my body, pooling in my cock. The metallic smell of his blood added to the feeling. The reality is that tonight made me almost as hard as I’ve been with the three girls I’ve fucked since losing my virginity three years ago. Pussy is the ultimate pleasure, but killing him felt amazing too. And now, thinking about mutilating his body, the hedonistic pleasure I got from sawing through his bone is upping my arousal again. I liked cutting him up and disposing of the body.
Rashon reverses the truck. Chaca stares out of the window as Onyx and I sit in the back, silent, lost in his own thoughts. Rashon turns on the radio, and a popular song comes through the speakers, and he starts humming like we didn’t just dismember and bury a body in the woods. The weight of what we did was heavy.
An hour later, his uncle pulls into a mini mall, and a few minutes later, I look at him in the rearview mirror.
“What are we doing?”
“Fighting. Your knuckles are a mess. It will help explain the bruises.”
That’s it. That’s all the explanation I get as Rashon exits the truck. Chaca follows, standing in the headlights.Onyx and I turn to each other, unsure of what to do. Onyx climbs out first. When the car door slams, I climb out of the backseat, following him.Rashon calls Onyx to his side, and I watch as he drapes an arm around his shoulder.
“Your training starts today,” Chaca says, watching Rashon and Onyx.
“Training?” I mutter, exhausted now that the adrenaline is wearing off and reality is setting in that I killed a man.
“You’re part of the Legion Lords now.”
Chaca opens his cut and takes out the round tin that I’ve seen him carry for most of the time I’ve known him. He pulls out a small red candy. When he hands the open tin to me, I stare down at the cherry red orbs.
“Eat it. It will help you focus.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, staring at the sweet in my hand.
He looks right at my hard cock, and Iswallow. His eyes seem to glow, and he closes his eyes. My erection hasn’t subsided since I killed Mikey. Chaca must realize, but doesn’t seem weirded out by it. I wonder if I should deny it, but he opens his eyes and gives me a knowing smile. The denial dies on my lips. “I came like a fucking chump the first time I killed, erupted like I’d never had my dick touched.” He pulls out a joint and lights it. The pungent smell wafts around us. “Don’t be ashamed, kid. It happens to me all the time. Nothing like killing. Nothing. The best feeling in the world when it’s done to the right ones. And you’ll want to do it again. Trust me.”
Nothing more is said, and I stare over to where Onyx is by the truck with his uncle. They look like they’re praying, and I wonder what it means.
“Come, El Búho.”
“El Búho?” I mumble my thoughts, racing a mile a minute.
“You’re the owl now. Predator. Hunter. What you did can’t be undone. Remember that. Embrace it.”
He re-pockets the small black tin of candy and walks away, following Onyx and his uncle into the boxing gym. I pop the candy into my mouth, sucking on the sour, tart flavor, following behind them.
We walk into the building to the sounds of grunts, bodies colliding, and the stench of sweat.
