Page 69 of Brick

The kid’s eyes darkened with excitement. “For real? Fuck yeah, man. I live for making things dirty.”

***

Dirty didn’t begin to describe what Tre did to Lorenzo Carpenter. Brick was grateful he didn’t have to clean up the mess left behind. He let Tre run the whole operation. Watching it unfold was one of the most heinous things he’d ever witnessed.

When Tre completed his task, blood coated his skin and clothes. He smiled at the carnage he’d made of what was once a man and smirked. “Now that’s what I call a lesson.”

The kid pulled out his switchblade and sliced off Lorenzo’s index finger. “You got your tarp, man? I’ll roll him up.”

True to his word, Tre did all the heavy lifting. They left Lorenzo’s door wide open. No one could doubt he’d died screaming. Even without a body, no one could miss the blood, gore, and other bodily fluids covering the floor.

He drove to the backwoods property Sucre owned, where he kept drums of sulfuric acid. Tre heaved the wrapped body into one of the barrels, and laughed so loud, it echoed into the night. “I don’t know how to thank you, man. I needed to blow off some steam like you wouldn’t believe.”

Holding onto the mask he’d perfected with Sucre all these years, he nodded. “Just keep it channeled on the job.” Stay away from my girl. “You don’t want to do anything to jeopardize Sucre’s operation. Follow the rules and this kind of job will come around every now and then.”

Tre rubbed his hands together, the dried blood flaking off onto the ground. “Guess it would be too much to walk through the bar like this.”

“Now you’re thinking.” Sick, sick fucker. “I’ll take you home to clean up before we report back in. You can take the lead, make sure you get the credit for the job.”

Tre rode in the bed, as he had with the body. Brick sprayed it down and treated it with bleach, while Tre showered inside his apartment. It was almost eleven o’clock by the time they gave their report to Sucre, and he could finally head home.

His security sweep showed no one had been inside. He wanted to fall into bed, but traces of blood dotted his skin, and even though exhaustion dragged him down, the reminder of the night’s brutality would keep him awake.

He thought of Liv in the shower. He needed to be with her, to take a break from all this shit, even for one fucking day. How he felt about her was the only thing tethering him to his humanity these days. He needed a getaway—even a temporary one—and he needed it with her.

Rust-colored water circled the drain as he scrubbed off the reminders of what had happened at Lorenzo’s apartment. He’d seen some brutal shit in his life, but what he’d witnessed tonight left him more convinced than ever Tre was a deeply disturbed motherfucker.

And he would die before he let the sick bastard put one finger on his girl.

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