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“Christ, do you have any idea what you just did?” I swore.
“I made sure to cover my tracks,” she stated rationally, and I wanted to fucking kill her.
“Said every fucking person who’s ever gotten arrested for murder,” I spat viciously.
“There’s only one thing that connects us,” she continued. “His text asking me to meet him.”
“Fucking Christ,” I muttered, my hands rubbing my face, my head, the back of my neck, anything that would keep me from wrapping them around her neck.
“I made sure to cover him in enough dirt that it’ll take the police a while to sift through each spec of dirt for DNA,” she continued explaining like a fucking psychopath. “After he was dead, I drove my car back onto the road, then hid it near a cluster of trees. I walked back and used a stick to erase the tire tracks from my car, my footprints, too.”
“Goddamn it, Kincaid, anyone could have driven by and-”
“It’s an isolated road,” she went on. “That’s why Donovan picked that area.”
“How considerate of him,” I bit out.
“I drove back towards Serenity Springs, then made a U-turn like I was driving out of town again. I punctured my tire with a nail, then waited until someone helped me change the tire.”
I let out a dark, tired, terrified laugh. “So, the story is that you were on your way to meet him but got a flat. That’s the story?”
She nodded. “And since I accidentally left my phone at home, I’d been stuck on the side of the road for a while.”
“What happened to the towel you used to suffocate him with?”
“I stopped to get something to eat on the way back, making sure that I was on camera somewhere, then I took it into the bathroom and flushed it. I tore it into tiny pieces to make sure I didn’t plug the toilet up.”
“Kincaid, it was one thing to kill Donovan when no one knew what you were about, but now? Too many people fucking know that you wanted him dead,” I growled. “My dad, your dad, Alexander, Jacob probably, too. The police are going to find his dead body, and once they go through your phone, that detective is going to get a hard-on strong enough to break steel.”
“The second that he was dead, I used his thumb to unlock his phone,” she explained like I was slow as fuck or something. “I sent myself texts asking where I was. By the time I left, I sent about five texts, the last one telling me he was giving me ten more minutes, but that was it.”
“So, that’s what you were doing with your phone? Answering his texts?”
She nodded. “I also sent a text to my dad, telling him that I’m sorry I didn’t call him when I got back into town. I explained how I’d been stuck on the side of the road.”
“Kincaid-”
“Look, I realize it’s not perfect, but it’s done,” she hissed, her emotions finally shining through. “What do you want me to do?”
“You need to call your dad,” I told her. “And I need to call mine.”
Her back straightened, her eyes flashed, and I’d never seen her so cold. “Need to save yourself, do you?”
I had her slammed up against the wall, my hand wrapped around her throat, and my face snarling down at her in under a second. “Don’t you ever fucking say that to me again,” I growled, my fist hitting the wall next to her head. “Ever.”
She lifted her chin, her eyes defiant. “Then why call your dad?” she challenged.
“Because Alexander is probably meeting with him as we speak,” I snapped. “I’d met with Alexander earlier, and he agreed to confess everything to the fuckin panel, Kincaid. If he’s already spoken to them, then the entire panel will know that you killed Donovan. No one is going to believe in a coincidence that big.” Her eyes widened, but not with fear.
Never fear.
“Why in the hell would you talk to Alexander without letting me know?” she demanded.
“Maybe for the same reason that you went to meet Donovan without letting me know,” I shot back before releasing her and going for my phone.
Doing my best to tamper down my anger, I stalked out of the room as I called my father. I was about to call in the biggest favor of my life, and I honestly didn’t know if my father would even help me at this point. It’d be no thing for The Order to help make Donovan’s body disappear, but would they?
“Fox?” he answered on the second ring. “Is everything okay?”
“Has Alexander met with the panel yet?”
“Yes, we concluded about an hour ago,” he answered. “It was…troublesome. We’re going to meet again tomorrow to discuss how best to approach Merrick Black with this information.”
“He already knows, Dad,” I told him. “He already fucking knows.”
