Page 97 of Property of Prime
He made a face.“You didn’t have to say it like that.”
“You asked.”
We tried again.Lifted.Managed maybe three whole pathetic inches before she slipped from Wannabe’s grip and hit the dirt with a dull thud.
“Shit,” he hissed and shook out his hands.“My bad.”
“No shit.”I stood and rolled my shoulders.“Go grab one of the tarps from the shed.Blue bin next to the mower.”
“On it.”Wannabe jogged off toward the old equipment shed.
I crouched beside the body and exhaled slowly.The night air was still, like the woods were holding their breath.The haunted house lights glowed faintly behind me as the last guests were already gone and the actors were clocking out.
We were alone out here.
Just me and her.
I reached out and brushed the woman’s hair back from her face, careful and respectful.The club didn’t know her, but she was dead now, just off the path to Pearl’s cabin.
She had been alive this morning.Someone cared about her somewhere.Someone was going to wake up tomorrow and not know she died on our island.
Leaves crunched behind me.
“About damn time,” I said without looking.“Took you long enough to grab a tarp, Wan—” I glanced over my shoulder and froze.
It wasn’t Wannabe.
McKayla Day stood there at the edge of the clearing with her eyes wide, hand clamped over her mouth, and her whole body rigid when she saw the corpse at my feet.
Her face was horror, shock, and realization all at once.
Well, shit.
“Fuck.”
