Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
There is something seriously wrong with me.
Probably a trauma response, but I’m too messed up to process.
At least my mind’s off the hell I’ve stumbled into. We keep driving in silence for a while, rapidly moving away from civilization, and his hand stays on my leg, his fingers and palm a strangely reassuring weight.
“How’d you end up working for him?” Lanzo’s voice is low and soft. He breaks the silence after a while, as if he was waiting for me to get a hold of myself. Again with that cat-calming tone. I flinch a little, having been too used to the quiet.
I finally brush his hand off. “Craigslist.”
He pauses, eyebrows raising. “Seriously? Didn’t you learn not to trust strangers online?”
“Seriously, and you would’ve taken the job too if you had seen how much he was offering. I have a high school diploma and the ad said it was for an assistant job and the pay was obscenely good. I needed the money more than I needed to be cautious. So here I am.”
“Here you are,” he murmurs, smiling slightly. “All this for money? How much did he offer? Did you know there’d be a body in that room? I’m guessing you knew and still went. You seem like the type.”
“A hundred grand, and no, he didn’t mention the corpse. How the hell do I seem like the sort of girl that wouldn’t mind burying a corpse?”
He ignores my question. “You still would’ve gone if you knew though. Admit it, you would’ve gladly chopped up a murder victim for a hundred grand.”
“Probably, but don’t act like you’re all high and mighty or something. If I recall, you tossed that corpse burrito into your truck like it was nothing. How do you even know anything about this? Who the hell are you?”
“Corpse burrito? That’s a good one.” Still ignoring my questions.
“How did you know I was there? Do you work with my boss? Who are you, seriously?”
Lanzo purses his lips like he’s considering what I should know. “I’ve been tracking your employer for a few years now.” I expect him to elaborate, since the man clearly likes to talk, but he doesn’t.
So he’s all good jabbering on when it doesn’t matter, but when it does, he goes all quiet? Absolutely not going to fly, not right now. “I need a little bit more, please. What do you mean, tracking? Who is the dead guy in the burrito back there? Why did my boss kill him? Did my boss kill him? Why is my boss using a fake name? And how the heck did you know about all this?”
Lanzo glances at me, eyebrows raised. “That’s a lot of questions.”
“No kidding.” I want to scream at him. At least some of the panic is starting to wear off. Now that I can think, I’m starting to realize how absolutely bad this all is. “Because you’re not telling me anything.”
“Do you really want to know? I mean, you were willing to wrap up a corpse without asking too many questions. Why start now?”
“You have to be kidding me. I was losing my mind in there! I’m still losing my mind.”
“That’s fair. That’s the most reasonable reaction you’ve had all night.”
I clench my jaw, glaring at him. But he does have a point. It’s not remotely normal that I went ahead and started rolling that dead guy up in the blankets like I was actually going to fireman carry his corpse all the way back to my car. I’m five-foot-three and not exactly in the best shape of my life. There’s no rational way I was going to pull off that feat of physical strength. It’s not normal that I let Lanzo burst in and help me, and totally not normal that I have this weird, buzzing desire for him glowing down my spine.
I’m honestly worried for my mental health right now.
“I just want to know what’s going on,” I say, hating myself for the desperation that leaks into my tone. I want to be strong, I want to keep it together, but this is too much. Lanzo’s a stranger and we’re driving into a remote area of Texas to dispose of a body.
And I’m pretty sure I’m not getting paid at this point.
He takes a slow breath, nodding to himself. Silence stretches, grows, and each second I sit here stewing is another second I want to rip my own hair out, until he finally glances at me.
“The more you don’t know, the better.”
“What the fu—” I’m interrupted by Lanzo yanking the wheel hard, taking the truck off road in a sudden spray of dirt and gravel. Scrubby bushes get shredded under his truck’s tires as he bumps along. I have to grab onto the door to keep myself from flying around, despite the seatbelt.
“I know this isn’t ideal,” he shouts over the noise of him roaring through what looks like the desert. “But trust me when I say, the less you know, the safer you’ll be. This guy Burian, he’s serious shit, and you are so way over your head that you’re already drowning down at the bottom of an ocean trench, except you don’t even know it yet. Trust me when I say, I have your best interests in mind.”