Page 95 of Monsters

Glancing up to the window next door, I’d found our culprit. The sky lit up in a spectacular light show, revealing the frightened face of Gemma Sinclair. When our eyes met, she ducked out of view, but it was too late. She’d seen us drag Borelli’s wrapped body to a car.

“Fucking Jesus,” I mouthed, and Lucas followed my gaze.

“She didn’t see anything,” he almost pleaded.

“She saw fucking everything.”

Lucas placed a firm hand on my shoulder, thunder cracking above us. “Leave her out of this, Mason.”

“Go inside, Lucas.”

He didn’t move, his confidence returning. “Promise me you’ll leave her out of this?”

“She’ll talk.”

“No, she won’t. She won’t know what was in the tarpaulin. Promise me you’ll leave her alone?”

The night was fucked up enough without Lucas becoming emotional over some bitch.

“I promise,” I lied. Lucas dropped his hand, foolishly appeased. “But what happened tonight, no matter who was responsible, this shit dies with us, Lucas. We carry this secret to the grave.”

I cast another glance up to the window. “And that means saying goodbye to Gemma Sinclair. Forever.”

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