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23
Mercy
Wylder looked so smugas he observed me that the flush of my climax cooled. Refusing to look at the bastard, I shoved myself off the table, hoping he didn’t notice how my legs wobbled slightly when my feet hit the floor. The aftershock of that orgasm hadn’t faded completely.
Was I fucking insane?
“You were already turned on,” Wylder said, apparently reading my recovered defiance. “I just took you over the edge, exactly the way you needed it.”
Before I could reply, footsteps sounded in the hall. I looked up to see Rowan and Kaige returning with purposeful expressions.
“The car’s ready,” Kaige said, his gaze falling on the bags of corpse pieces and a grimace twisting his lips. “This is the easy part now, right?”
Wylder laughed. “That depends on whether you prefer chopping or digging. And this room needs a thorough cleaning too.”
Kaige’s grimace grew. “Who’s on cleaning duty? Because I call dibs on doing absolutely nothing.”
“I’ll get someone down here to do that,” Wylder said. “Who’s been on the naughty list this week?”
All three pairs of eyes settled on me. It figured. I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “If you want me to do it, you can just come out and say that.”
Wylder made a show of considering. “No, I think you’ve handled enough housework this week.”
Relief coursed through me. I just wanted to get out of here and take a good long shower and ideally scrub myself raw. Even though I had gotten used to the smell, the room still stank of death and I was sure it had settled on me. I needed to wipe away all memory of this prick’s touch, too. “Can I leave?”
“Oh, no, your work here isn’tdone,Princess. Finish what you started. You need to dispose of the body.”
I blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Wylder said. “Our rat friend is conveniently hacked into pieces and bagged. The car is prepped. All you need to do is find a nice quiet spot in the woods to give him a final resting place. Preferably deep and dark.”
That did actually sound less unnerving than doing the hacking, but— “You’re sending me off in one of your cars alone with the body of a man you murdered?”
Kaige’s eyes flicked to me, his expression turning dubious. “Forget that.” I’d thought I’d seen a flicker of trust in his eyes before, but I’d obviously imagined it.
Rowan stepped up, looking at Wylder rather than me. “Of course not. I’ll go with her. You guys have had your fun—isn’t it my turn?”
Disgust roiled through me. Had Rowan really just been waiting around for his chance to add to my torment? “No fucking way,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere with him.”
“Who said you get a choice?” Wylder clapped his hands with a definite sound. “I don’t know what kind of issues you two have with each other, but if you want anything from me, you have to learn to deal with my men. That includes Rowan.” He tipped his head to Rowan, who nodded back.
What had happened between them in the five years since I’d last seen my ex to cement their bond of loyalty so deeply? The Rowan I’d known up until he was sixteen had cringed whenever I’d talked about the violence of my family life. He’d looked most natural with a pencil or a piece of sketching charcoal in his hand, not a gun. How did anyone change that quickly?
No, I reminded myself. He hadn’t changed that much. He’d been an asshole when he’d strung me along and then left me in the lurch, hadn’t he? I just hadn’t seen it.
Wylder gave us a dismissive wave. “So, it’s decided then. Off you go. Be careful of her claws, Rowan.”
“I know.” Without looking at me, Rowan closed one of the sacks and hefted it as if its contents hadn’t been a man less than an hour ago. As if he hauled around chopped-up corpses all the time. Another twinge of confusion rippled through me.
He stood there, and I realized I was supposed to pick up the other bag. Tying it off carefully to cover its contents, I heaved it off the floor. Kaige’s expression flickered. “I can—”
“I’m fine,” I interrupted. “Let’s get on with this.”
Rowan led the way up the stairs and down a couple of isolated halls that led to a discrete back door. By the time we reached it, my arms were straining from carrying—well, mostly dragging—even half of a grown man’s weight in body parts. This kind of work would keep you in shape, I’d give it that.
A dark green Ford was parked right outside. No one wanted to use a fancy ride for this job. The trunk was already open and lined with plastic sheeting. We dumped the bags in next to a shovel—just one. It looked like I was doing all the digging. Hurrah.
“Can I drive?” I asked, because it was worth a shot.
