Page 55 of Unmade

With guys, I’d felt…uncomfortable. Not all the time, not at work or wherever, but in those few moments I’d contemplated wanting…more.

“You might be ten percent right,” Kat said eventually. “Eric told me something similar, and I’m not surprised. You’re men.”

I sucked my teeth and parked in front of the building. “That’s sexist. I thought you were more progressive than that.”

I could definitely envision her rolling her eyes.

“Ten percent seems low,” I added and killed the engine.

“That’s what I’m giving you,” she answered stubbornly. “I still believe you’ve compartmentalized things for so long that you don’t have the faintest idea of what you actually want, so you go with these outdated cookie-cutter ideas of what relationships are supposed to look like. And you’re not cookie-cutter, Bo.”

Man, she exhausted me.

“I have zero energy for this.” I jumped out of the van and slammed the door shut, then trailed over to the entrance. “Why don’t you tell me what you think I should do, and then I can pretend to agree.” Third code to punch in, thankfully with keys that glowed in the pitch-black nothingness.

Once the door was open, the hallway was lit up, and I could see properly. Kat was undoubtedly about to give a grand speech, but one of my nephews saved my ass by crying in the background, diverting Kat’s attention.

“Give me a sec, Bo.”

Finally, a break. “I can give you way more than that.”

I returned to the van and opened the back, where I had Nassim on the floor in his semi-open body bag.

I hauled him out with a grunt, and he landed on the ground with a thud. Oh shit, he groaned. He was waking up—he wasn’t supposed to wake up. Had someone fucked up the dosage of the sedative?

Oh well. This would be over soon.

I dragged him indoors and closed the door behind me. The place smelled the same as always, like a Hillcroft affair we didn’t talk about. As in, just a whisper of something for the very few who came here. There was a faint, faint smell of something chemical, and that was it.

Coach had been here this morning, and everything was ready. I dragged Nassim into the second room and flicked on the lights, and the first thing I saw was the display next to the incinerator. A toasty 1672 degrees.

My sister was gonna have to wait. She was busy anyway.

I ended the call before I lowered the table in front of the incinerator, and I glanced down at the body bag. Nassim’s face was just barely visible.

“Next time, don’t join a crime syndicate and try to kill people,” I said. With the table at ground-level, I rolled and pulled Nassim onto the wooden board. “Here’s a fun fact,” I grunted. “Did you know the human body will boil first if you don’t burn it with something like wood or cardboard?”

Next came the workout of yanking the body bag away from the guy.

Considering he was waking up more and more, it was best to get this show on the road. I raised the table again, then opened the incinerator the exact moment my phone went off again.

“Fuckingseriously.” I huffed, out of breath, and took the call. It was Kat again—who else? “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Based on all the sighing she did around me, the answer should be yes.

I pushed the fucker into the oven, right into the scorching flames, and I felt the heat swell over me. Not nearly as much as he did, though. He twitched and groaned, and I promptly shut and locked the door?—

“It’s my job to worry,” Kat said.

“Uh-huh.” I set the timer for Coach, and then I was finally done. “To be honest, you’re making this much easier. I can’t wait for you to head west.”

“You think we don’t have phones in San Diego?”

I cursed.

* * *

September 6th, 2024

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