“You want to explain that to us?” asks Adrian.
I shrug. “Yes, someone’s digging up this grave, but it’s not just me. I’ve got my three bros here, and four shovels total. Soweare digging up this grave. But, don’t worry, we’re leaving this prick here. Just with a little… something extra, you can say. You in?”
“Defiling my old man’s grave?” Dallas grabs a shovel. “They buried him with his wedding ring on. Fuck, no. He’s the reason my mom is dead. He doesn’t get that. So, yeah, I’m in so long as you help me get the ring off first.”
In answer, I pull my trusty pocketknife out, flipping it open so that the moonlight catches on the blade. “Not a problem, Dal.” I jab it into the dirt so it’s within easy reach when we’re done before turning to the other two guys. “What do you say? Bas? Adrian?”
Bas shrugs. “I’ve put plenty of guys in the ground. Never had to dig one up… might be fun.”
“I put this one in the ground,” muses Adrian. “And I’d do it again for what he put my wife through. Yours, too, Connor. So if this is what you need, let’s go.”
Between the four of us, we uncover the simple plastic burial vault that covers the casket in no time. Luckily—or not so luckily, I guess—I’ve attended enough Owed funerals to know that our Order cemetery uses plastic burial vaults that can be removed easily once the dirt’s been shifted.
It takes a little more work to get the coffin open since it’s been locked and we certainly don’t have a key. Of course, where there’s a will, there’s a way, and there’s enough pent-up rage inside of us that we’re glad to destroy the damn casket if it gets us to the decomposed, rotted remains of the former King.
I know he was embalmed, but that was a year ago. I don’t pay that much attention to the man we’ve uncovered other than to climb into the casket with him and use my knife to separate the lingering bits of God-knows-what that kept his desiccated ring finger connected to his hand.
I toss the ring finger with the wedding band on it to Dallas, then climb out of the grave with a little help from my friends.
And then, to the shock of all of them, once I’m at Jack Collin’s graveside, I unzip my jeans, whip out my cock, and start pissing all over it.
Bas chokes. Dallas pauses for a second, then says, “Yeah, I’ll feel a lot better after this,” before adding his stream to mine. Adrian smiles a secretive smile beneath the moonlight before silently doing the same.
Not one to feel left out, Bas makes it four.
Rest in piss, asshole. Literally.
Tucking myself inside of my pants once I’m done, I do up the zipper, swallowing the laugh bubbling up in my throat as Dallas yanks the wedding ring off the embalmed finger before adding the digit to the pile of piss on Jack Collins’s corpse. He pockets the ring, I pocket my knife, and then I grab my shovel.
I’m sure they think I’ve completely lost it, but if they’ve been paying attention—and I like to think they have—they’ll know I never really had it in the first place.
Fuck that. Who needs sanity when you have Haven Heyward as your wife, and the best fucking friends in Harmony Heights?
Not just Harmony Heights, either. The whole goddamnworld.
With my free hand, I sling my arm over Bas because he’s the closest to me. I squeeze him, smiling at Adrian and Dallas. Then, with a nod at the defiled grave, I release my buddy and start filling the hole back in with dirt, piss and all.
The whole thing didn’t take half as long as I expected. We still have time before our wives will be expecting us, and—the way I see it—another old grievance to repay.
I heft up my shovel. “Come on, boys. Let’s go find Des’s grave next.”
Because that’s what happens when you don’t respect the bro code and try to take another man’s girl. You get three bullets to the chest in the middle of St. Catherine’s, and your four oldest friends slapping each other on the back as they discuss just how much you deserve to get your eternal resting place pissed on.
I mean, I can’t say the same thing wouldn’t have happened if Adrian tried to Claim Haven instead of me, but it might have, and he would’ve deserved it, too.
Like I said. I’ll do anything for my Haven.
I just won’t ever let her stop beingmyHaven—and, because I’m the luckiest fucking bastard in the world, I know that’ll never happen.
We’re ’til death do us part, and eventhenI won’t let her get away from me that easily.
She knows it, too. From the moment I pulled her out of that room, dragging her from the oubliette where they thought I’d forget about her, I’ve kept her by my side, and that’s where she will stay.
Forever.
And neither of us will have it any other way.
