Page 119 of Cruel Lies

I wouldn’t make the mistake of letting her go a second time.

I knocked absently on Lilly’s door, and before I could pull my hand away, she was opening the damn thing, staring us down like we were the spawn of satan, come to pay her back for some crime she’d committed in a past life.

"What the fuck is this?" She waved wildly in Nash’s direction, and I shook my head.

"Don’t ask."

"I just did."

Nash blinked, still miles away but somehow mildly coherent. "I was just telling Bonnie how I got my scars, boss."

Lilly snapped her fingers in front of his face, frowning. "I think you went a little too far during vivid storytime mode, bud."

"I’ll deal with him later. Can you just tell me where you want me to put this sack ofworthless shit?"

Lilly leaned in and sniffed, crinkling her nose at the stench. "The basement, preferably. He reeks."

"Pissed himself watching Nash work."

Her brows climbed higher. "And where is the other half of their little duo?"

Nash giggled like a fucking fiend. "She’s dead. Dead, dead, dead."

"He needs help," Lilly groaned, running a hand over her face in a dead drag. "I’m not equipped to deal with that."

"He needs a cold shower and a bottle of vodka, and he’ll be fine," I muttered, turning around slowly as I reached out to grab Nash by the back of his collar. "I’ll deal with him after I drop this dead weight in the basement."

"You disposed of Bonnie, I assume?"

"Fed the crocs under the bridge tonight. I doubt she had anyone looking for her, anyhow,"

"She was a runaway," Lilly sighed, her voice faint as she wandered back into her rooms. "One I thought I could save. But apparently, life’s not for everyone."

I didn’t care to mull over just how well Lilly might have known Bonnie or how closely she understood the life she’d come from. Right now, the only thing on my mind was straightening Nash out and dropping this asshole off to deal with later.

Nash followed me like a lost stray to the basement, watched me put Clyde in a cell, and lock the damn thing up, before he said another word. And of course, it wasn’t even directed at me.

"Death is too good for you assholes."

His hands curled around the bars of the little window on the door, knuckles white as he practically foamed at the mouth and leaned in until his nose was against the steel frame.

"You better enjoy these last few hours, Clyde. Once St. Clair says you’re fit to be ex-communicated, I’m gonna come down here and rip your head off with my bare hands."

I hoped Clyde was too out of it to hear that threat. Because itwas more of a promise, when it came from him in this state of mind.

I had no doubt Nash would be the one to help Clyde right on into the afterlife in the next few days. Lilly would give us that concession after what happened.

Fuck.

I still had to talk to her about Harper.

Now is not the time. Later. She won’t mind if you do it later.

And there was the Nash situation to deal with, too.

"Come on, asshole. We need to straighten you out before Harper sees you."

He didn’t answer but took the stairs two at a time, beating me to the front door of our living quarters by a mile. Yet when I crested the last staircase, he just stood there with his hands hanging limply at his sides, staring at the doorknob like he could will it to turn with his mind.

---