Page 52 of F*ck Steal Kill

Holland groaned, jolting me out of my trance, and I rushed to her, pushing the dead body off her. Her green eyes were as vivid as I’d remembered, looking at me in shock.

“I always thought if I were dying, I’d envision some hot celebrity or something as my last wish to see before I crossed over. You were nowhere on that list. I guess it makes sense if I’m going to Hell,” she groaned.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her face pale as sweat beaded on her brow, reminding me she’d been stabbed. Ripping off my shirt, I pressed it against her leg, where most of the blood was coming from. I smacked her cheek, getting her attention.

“Wake up, mi chispa. You don’t get to die right now. There are too many things unknown. We still have lots to fight over, baby.”

“Fuck… you… I’ll die when I want,” she whispered.

Laughing, I pulled out my phone and hit the emergency button, ringing Max and Quentin simultaneously.

“Hello?” Max answered first, followed by Quentin. “You get your head out of your ass?”

“Get to the motel. Now. Bring the med kit, along with body disposal. Hurry.”

I hung up before they could ask questions. I didn’t want them to know it was Holland yet, afraid they’d be reckless and end up dead on the way to get here.

I checked her over as best I could, finding a few other cuts, but most had stopped bleeding. While I waited, I tried to figure out why Holland was here and how she played into all of this. My first assessment that she was a Savage spy had to be wrong if she’d been fighting with a Savage.

But the only other conclusion didn’t make sense. How could Holland be the XOXO killer?

Before I could ponder it any deeper, the door flew open as Max and Quentin arrived, stopping dead in their tracks when they spotted the blonde beauty lying limp in my arms.

“What the fuck did you do? This wasn’t what I meant when I said to deal with your shit!” Quentin shouted, storming over toward me with murder on his face.

“Calm down. I didn’t do this. But I did do that.” I motioned with my eyes toward the dead body they’d ignored. “He’s a Savage.”

My team blinked, confused at what I was saying.

“But…” Max trailed off, his face white.

“She’s not with him, considering he stabbed her. Speaking of which, how about you get over here and help me stitch her up so your girlfriend doesn’t bleed to death on the anniversary of Camila’s?”

My words vaulted them both into action, Quentin demanding I hand her over. Ignoring him, I focused on Max and helped him as he jumped into medic mode.

“Is it bad? Do we need to go to a hospital?” I asked.

“Luckily, he missed the femoral artery. She should be okay once I stitch it up. Everything else looks superficial or will suffice with some medical glue.”

Max fell into his role, cutting away her pants and efficiently cleaning her wounds. When he was done, I relented my hold on Holland, releasing her to Quentin as he carried her over to the bed, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Max sat with her while Q and I got to work on the body and clean up.

“Fuck, there’s so much blood. We’re going to have to call someone in,” I muttered.

“Do it. Let’s get her out of here,” Quentin said, standing as he lifted the dead body over his shoulder. We’d rolled him up in the shower curtain, placing him in a Christmas tree bag. It worked surprisingly well to hold and disguise bodies.

Punching in my code, I requested a cleanup as the three of us walked out of the motel—one carrying a dead body, another cradling an unconscious woman to their chest, and the last with a mountain of grief and regret.

Something was going on in this town, and I was on the cusp of figuring it out. And I prayed, for the first time in five years, that my gut was wrong and Holland had nothing to do with it.

CHAPTER 19

HOLLAND

My body throbbed with pain, and I cursed whatever truck had decided to back up and run me over, dragging my body for miles before I tumbled down a hill and landed on a pile of broken bottles. Someone jostled me, and I groaned, not liking the reminder of how badly my body hurt.

“Did you get the name of the driver?” I mumbled, hoping Lacey or Joy would know what I was talking about.

“What?” a male voice asked, taking me by surprise. I jolted up, ignoring the pain as I surveyed my surroundings. My chest heaved as I tried to figure out where the hell I was.

---