Page 74 of Sorrow

We didn’t really get close until he showed up to my house the night it burned.

But tonight, his face shield and turnout coat are back at the station where they need to be. I should’ve done the fucking same.Doing this shit in full uniform is risky as hell, I just wasn’t given any notice — Hayes told me twenty minutes ago that Carter Jennings left Samara a voicemail. Unlike Ricky’s call the other day, it wasn’t a barely concealed threat. It was an outright promise that he’s going to hurt her if I don’t stop.

“Give me the fucking side cutters,” I repeat, huffing when Reeve holds them just out of my reach. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet all of a sudden.”

“I’m too hot to have cold anything. I never thought this was a good idea. Can’t I just light it on fire?”

He twirls what I need around in his hands as he stares down at me, mocking me like the pretty little shit he is.

“You could, but then we’d basically be copying the fucking Sons. Do you want to be known as the guy who had the same idea as those assholes?”

“First of all, I’m a ghost in this story so you’ll be the one that looks like you copied them — not me. And second, fire ismything, not theirs. I’m offended.” He’s talking way too fucking loud for someone who’s gotten away with burning hundreds of acres before, but one day being first on the scene is going to bite him in the ass. No one getslucky that many times without someone out there getting suspicious. Especially if he’s always this loud. “Bitch ass Sons. You know damn well Ricky always wanted to be like me. What if we just gangbang his mom and blackmail them with a video? You can even invite your ugly friend.”

Squinting at him, I finally get to my feet. “Hayes will cry if he hears you say that. Give me the goddamn side cutters so I can cut her brakes and we can get out of here before someone sees us.”

Shaking his head, Reeve frowns. “Hear me out, alright? I brought some shit we can do that won’t kill someone innocent. I’m an asshole, but not akill some girl that hasn’t done shitlevel asshole, and neither are you.” He pulls out a huge dagger and hands it over, then reveals a gallon of what looks like blood he had hidden in a bush. “We can scare her, trigger them, then maybe kill the ones that actually deserve to die. Deal?”

He just had to remind me she isn’t exactly one of them. “No one’s innocent, Reeve. No one. I’ve learned that the hard way recently.”

Yet Amaya aside, he’s right. I’m not a killer. I’m prepared to kill if I need to, but if it’s not necessary? I do have a badge on my chest.

“Whose blood is that?”

“Some pig.” He shrugs. “Actual pig, that’s not a cop dig. Carve something fucked up in the dash and I’ll start on the backseat.”

If cops would quit killing innocent people, maybe he wouldn’t have had to clarify that.

Yeah, I can’t cut her brakes. I’d become just as bad as the rest of them.

“Fine. You win. You got your kit with you?”

He eyes me like I’m stupid, then hands me the little inflatable airbag I’ll need to jam inside the door once he gets the wedge in. I’m no stranger to breaking into cars, but usually we did it with rocks and zero regard for the owner.

Here, though... I want her to think everything is normal and happy in her glittery fucking rainbow world right up until she opens the door.

Once he jimmies the metal rod in to pop the lock, we’re in business. We’ve wasted too much time already, so I don’t mess around trying to think of some clever, menacing threat to scratch into the dash. Instead, I stab the fuck out of it. All that expensive textured plastic, torn up and completely useless now. I hear Reeve shredding theperforated black leather on the backseat and can’t resist doing a little damage up front, too. When we’re done,they’regonna have to set fire to this thing.

Adrenaline surges through me as I wiggle out of the car and grab the gallon of blood. It fucking stinks as I spin the lid off and dump it everywhere — the inside of the dark tinted windows, the doors, the seats, the floor, the center console. I pass it back to Reeve just as I see headlights off in the distance. “We gotta fucking go, hurry up.”

I see the lighter in his hand and the longing all over his face, but ultimately he shoves it back in his pocket and kicks the car like he blames it. “Fuck it. Go!”

I’m starting to think he has a serious problem.

Waving him on, I shut the door as quietly as I can, grab my shit, and hunch down as I hurry back over to the next street where I left my cruiser. I lose sight of Reeve in his search for his Cherokee, but find him again when we both turn onto his street.

As Cape Frost goes, he doesn’t live in a bad neighborhood. The houses are all small but functional with two car garages and ample backyards, and while some of themare rotting from the inside out, Reeve found himself a good one.

Parking my cruiser in the drive, I follow him in through the garage into the kitchen. The bloodwood cabinets and butcher’s block countertops are a stark contrast from the greys and marble I’m used to at Hayes’, but it comes together better than I thought it would.

“I’ve got blood all over my hands,” I mutter. “Can you turn the sink on for me? Shit’s probably all over my car now, too.”

“Yeah, you look like shit.” He isn’t any better off, but manages to get the sink going for us after tripping over his ridiculously furry black cat. “Damnit, Void,” he growls. “She’s like a shark, I swear. She can smell the blood and wants the kill.”

Her vibrant green eyes narrow at us as she jumps up on the counter, swinging her tail so hard, the paper towel roll falls off and unwinds on the floor.

“Yeah, she hates you,” I laugh. “Shame it’s too cold to make her sleep outside.”

“That’s not something you should say when she’s in earshot, but speak at your own risk. Have I told you why I named her Void?”

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