Page 78 of Rivals & Revenge

"No. We need to check out fucktard’s house. There might be further clues there, and we need all the information we can get."

"His name is Jason." Larissa said, barely above a whisper.

Ahren's lips parted, a wicked reply no doubt on the tip of his tongue, but one look at his wounded friend, and he swallowed every word, responding with a simple nod.

"Sorry." she murmured, her fingers picking at the wrist strap on the flashlight. "Obviously, Jason is connected. I brought him into your lives. I—"

“You don't know that he had anything to do with this,” I said, trying to soothe her, but the words sounded hollow, even to my ears.

She nodded, but kept her eyes on the silver flashlight in her lap, not bothering to look up until we pulled into her boyfriend's driveway nearly twenty minutes later.

The two-story Spanish-style house came into view. The exposed beams and wrought iron details gave it an old world flare that stood out against the surrounding modern homes.

"You're welcome to stay in the truck," he said, no trace of the cocky bastard he usually pretended to be.

"No." she said, straightening her spine. "I owe this fucker a piece of my mind."

She glanced up at Ahren and sighed. "Besides, Ahren is probably planning to shoot him. If I want to get this shit off my chest, now is the time."

He shrugged, not bothering to deny the accusation.

"If you're sure, then."

Her eyes locked straight ahead, she stepped toward the house without another word. Ahren and I followed behind. Both of us had questions of our own, but we agreed Larissa got the first crack.

The first strike of her fist against the door was soft—tentative. He pushed past, pounding on the door with deep, heavy thuds.

"You're not doing this alone. He will fucking listen to every word you have to say." His whispered voice held an edge of violence that sent a shiver of something delicious through my system.

His eyes met mine, and he tossed me a wink, knowing exactly the effect he was having on me.

After several minutes, he pounded on the door again. "Fucker." He reached for the knob and the door swung inward.

Immediately, the unmistakable scent of decomposition slammed into us. Though none of us were strangers to the smells of death and decay, it still hit us hard.

Larissa turned away, gulping fresh air before turning back to the open doorway. She shifted into work mode, the silver line of unshed tears the only sign she was affected at all.

Bright orange terracotta tiles covered the floor in the foyer, wending their way through the house. The smell grew stronger the further we walked inside. I pulled my shirt off and used it to cover my nose and mouth, but the pungent odor still took my breath away.

Ahren stopped abruptly, blocking the path forward. He only hesitated for a moment, but it was enough for us to know he'd found Jason.

Larissa grabbed his arm, pulling it back and pushing through into the kitchen. Moving in slow, measured steps as she approached his body.

Blood and brain matter painted every surface in the spacious kitchen. The entire left side of his head had been obliterated, but therewas enough left that Larissa sucked in a quick breath at the sight of him.

"Is that him?" I asked, needing her confirmation.

Her head bobbed silently. She kneeled beside him, her head cocked to the side as she examined the wound.

"Does this look right to the two of you?" she asked.

We stepped forward. Even the thick rubber soles of my boots had trouble gaining traction on the slick floor and I would have fallen on my ass if Ahren didn't have lightning reflexes.

"Careful." he murmured, helping me steady myself before letting go.

"Aw, fuck." I muttered, finally getting a closer look at the wound.

Ahren studied the wound, walking a wide arc around the body. With no commentary on the body or the wound, he turned and began studying the walls on the far side of the kitchen.

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