Page 68 of Property of Fox

I strip off my gloves, the latex snapping against my skin with a muted pop that echoes in the silence, and shove them into my pocket. As I step out of the kitchen, pulling out my phone, I scroll through my contacts until I find the one I am looking for. I tap Azrael’s name on speed dial and bring it to ear level while pacing across the living room.

“If you got arrested, I’m not bailing you out,” he answers groggy and half-conscious.

“I wish that were the case, but we have a problem.”

Azrael's voice sharpens, the sleepiness evaporating in an instant. “What kind of problem?”

I bite my lip, glancing back at the body as if expecting it to leap up and join the conversation. “There’s a dead guy on Brea’s kitchen floor, and he’s marked with Hellion colors.”

“Fuck,” Azrael hisses. A shuffling noise comes from his side of the call, a muffled voice following it. “Hang on.” I listen asAzrael reassures Hallie before the background noise disappears. “You’re sure it’s a Hellion?”

“I think I know what their patch looks like, Az. I’ve seen it enough times to know.”

“Fuck!” he roars again. “What the hell were they doing there? Did you see anybody else?”

“No. Just this guy.” I take a steadying breath, trying to maintain my composure. “He broke into the house Brea was sharing with a friend of hers named Keira.”

“Did he follow you to the house?”

I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “No, I don’t think so. I haven’t seen anyone else around, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Do you have it handled?”

“Yeah, I’m working on clean up. Any ideas where I can stash him?”

“No, but I can do a little digging while you’re cleaning up the mess,” Azrael replies, his voice cool but laced with urgency.

“I’ll figure out something.” I pace, my mind replaying back the fight. He was focused on me until Brea came into the room. Why is that? Did he think he could use her against me? “How did this fucker find this house? I can’t figure it out.”

“How much do you know about Brea? Do you think she could have a connection with them?”

“If you’re accusing her of setting me up, you’re out of your fucking mind, Az. She doesn’t know about the club. She knows I’m in one, but I never gave her the name.”

“If it’s not her then someone was following you to find her house. We did take out one of their guys on our last trip to Texas. Maybe there’s a chapter down there we don’t know about.”

“I mean, it’s possible.” While we had done our own expansion across the mid-west and the South over the years, theHellions didn’t seem that interested in broadening their borders outside of Indiana, or so we thought.

“Where’s Brea now?”

“She and her roommate are back at my hotel for the time being.”

“Then she’ll be safe for now,” he interjects, his tone shifting to something resembling reassurance. “Just focus on getting rid of the body. We’ll figure out the rest after he’s out of the picture.”

“Yeah. Easy peasy, right?” I murmur, sarcasm dripping from my voice as I hang up on Azrael. Putting my phone into my pocket I turn back to the kitchen. “Let’s get you tucked away, shall we?”

Grabbing a new pair of gloves, I grab the bottle of bleach, a roll of paper towel, and the plastic drop cloth. Normally, I’d remove the body first, but there’s too much blood. Instead of it being confined to the kitchen, it would be fucking everywhere. I lay out the plastic next to me before I soak the floor around the pooled blood, using the paper towels to soak it up until the entire roll of paper towel is spent, but the floor is sparkling. Discarding the blood and bleach-soaked paper towels onto the plastic, I turn to the very dead body. The motherfucker is heavier than he looks as I drag him by the arms on to the plastic. Taking care to clean up the remaining blood, I toss the paper towels on top of him, adding the knife for good measure, before rolling him up like a taquito fit for a zombie.

I tie off the drop cloth tight, hoping I’ve mummified him long enough to buy me some time. My stomach churns as I glance at the clock on the wall. With one last look at my handiwork, I shove the bundled corpse toward the front door. It's not exactly the best idea, but it’s the only one I have. I just pray that the neighbors are heavy sleepers and not early risers.

Dragging him across the porch isn’t exactly easy, every push deepens my fear that someone might catch a glimpse of what Iam doing. But luck seems to hold out for me tonight. I heave him over the threshold, feeling the thud of weighty flesh hitting the ground beneath me.

“Don’t look so smug,” I murmur to him as if he could hear me. “You have no one to blame but yourself.” He doesn’t respond—just lies there in silence, reminding me of everything that’s gone wrong tonight.

Once he's outside, it’s a matter of hitching him up and shoving him into the bed of my truck. I glance around, heart pounding, making sure no one is watching as I maneuver the body into place. I quietly shut the tailgate. My eyes scanning every house within view. No lights. No movement. I dart back inside to grab my gear. The last thing I need is to leave evidence behind.

Sure that I’ve gotten everything and securing a t-shirt and a pair of lounge pants that were not even remotely close to my size from the closet in Brea’s room, I head back out to the truck and slide into the driver’s seat. The last thing I need now is for someone to pull me over for a broken brake light, or worse, a damned police checkpoint.

My phone buzzes in my pocket like an angry hornet. Azrael again.

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