the way back to the boot of the car. He did it so effortlessly. I often forgot how big this man was under his suit. Next to Conor, you couldn’t tell their stature apart.
I stood, feeling weak as I watched him pick the dead man up and throw him in the back of the trunk. He slammed the trunk down hard before attempting to open it again, making sure it was locked. My guess was he didn’t make sure the first time around, hence the man attempting to crawl away as he bled out.
I shuddered.
Didn’t he realize what a close call that was? The scene was so grizzly, I could feel the passion of the kill. He had lost his calm. He had cut him horribly, thrown him in the trunk and impulsively drove off to the Hole. This was bad. It was so bad. Because it meant he was losing his cool. He wasn’t taking care of these men like business. No, Locke’s emotions were bleeding out of him and he getting worse.
One of these days his luck was going to run out.
One of Locke’s hands was covered in blood, he’d transferred some on the trunk of the car, but he didn’t seem to mind as he stuck that hand into his pocket and retrieved his car key.
“Quit looking at me like that,” he demanded.
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” I argued weakly.
Now his eyes met mine. “What is it then?”
I shrugged. “I was too late.”
“No,” he disagreed. “I sent you that text long after I’d done this. Like I said, he was one of them. It was never going to end any other way. I just needed you to lure me out of that hole. I…I wasn’t sure I could do it on my own.”
Poor Max.
I glanced at the closed trunk, wishing I felt more disturbed than I was. Frankly, this was not the first time I’d seen something like this. But it was the first time the crime scene was so grizzly.
“You’ve never made a mess like this,” I expressed confusedly, voicing my concern. “You’re a lot cleaner than this, Locke. I’m worried you’re losing yourself more and more.”
Now he looked away, swallowing hard before he uttered, “It didn’t go to plan, that’s all. It…got complicated. Like I said, I did something stupid.”
I wanted to ask him what he meant, but he turned away from me and began walking to the driver’s side door. “Get in, Charlotte.”
I took a step forward. “Toss me the key.”
Just before he slid in, he said, “I’m driving.”
He was calm now. Back to being Locke. His jaw clenched shut as he drove, his eyes taking on that emptiness I knew so well. For a while, we didn’t speak. Was it strange it didn’t feel awkward? That our silence was normal and, dare I say, comfortable?
“Why didn’t you message me sooner?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“Because it got complicated, Char,” he answered.
“Are you going to tell me what that means or are you going to keep being vague about it?” I prodded.
He pursed his lips, pondering. “I…I don’t know just yet. I’m still trying to figure it out.”
“Is it bad?”
Now his mouth flattened, and he nodded once. “Yeah, it’s bad.”
My heart picked up pace. “You’re going to get caught kind of bad?”
When he didn’t answer straight away, I felt queasy. But then he shook his head, “I don’t think so, but…it wouldn’t be so bad getting caught, would it? I belong behind bars.”
“Not for killing the people that hurt you,” I retorted in disapproval. “Not for that, Locke, but maybe for the other stuff. You don’t really have a conscience these days. Or, at least, you pretend not to.”
He glanced briefly at me, and then he looked again, looking me over. “You look presentable tonight.”
Presentable. I suppressed rolling my eyes as I uttered, “Thanks.”
“What were you doing when you got my text?”
“Ember visited with Lily.”
“Ah, she graced Conor with her presence.”
“She was sweet to him.”
“Must mean she wants something.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Probably.”
Locke looked amused. “Not going to defend her for once, Charlotte?”
Thinking about what she said at the bar, I bitterly replied, “Not tonight. I uh…I saw her doing something strange.”
“Like what?”
“I saw her chasing after…” I paused.
Locke’s lips flitted up. “Reid?”
My eyes bulged. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
He shrugged.
“Is she with him?”
“They’ve been spending time together,” he said. “I suspect an affair.”
“How long?”
“Years.”
“They’re cousins.”
He nodded slowly. “I could be wrong. Reid’s not shy with his floozies, and