It looked exactly the way he left it.
Sam shifted into park but didn’t kill the engine. His gaze flicked toward the Charger sitting by the edge of the drive. “You absolutely sure you don’t want me to run you on to your mom’s I can pick you up later.”
“I’m sure,” Wyatt said. “I’ll fix it up and head over.”
Sam studied him a second longer. “Alright. Family first.”
Wyatt managed a nod. “Thanks.”
He popped the door and stepped out of the Tahoe, gravel crunching under his boots. Cool air hit his face. Sam backeddown the drive, then disappeared between the trees, the sound of the engine fading until the woods swallowed it.
Silence rushed in.
Wyatt stood there for a moment, gripping nothing, running through his options.
What the hell was he supposed to do with a body?
Burning it was out. Took too long. Too many ways for it to go wrong.
Dumping it in the water? No. He had no way of knowing if it would stay down.
That left burial.
His house was remote, tucked into the woods. He knew every inch of this land, knew where the ground was soft enough, where no one would ever look.
But he also knew better than to believe this was just about getting rid of a body.
The bigger problem was who put it there—and why.
His stomach twisted.
His father.
It was the only explanation that made sense.
Wyatt clenched his jaw, pressing his thumb against the inside of his wrist—a nervous habit he’d never been able to shake. His fingers brushed over the ink there, the tattoo he always made sure to keep covered.
A mark from a life he’d spent years trying to erase.
His father was the kind of man who didn’t make mistakes. Didn’t forget. Didn’t forgive.
Wyatt and his mother had gone into witness protection to escape him.
But if his father had found him now—if he’d put that body in Wyatt’s trunk—then this wasn’t just a warning.
It was a message.
And Wyatt had no idea what it meant.
A sharp exhale left him as he forced himself to move.
He made his way toward his car. His pulse kicked up, but he ignored it.
This was just another problem. Just something he had to deal with.
He reached into his pocket for the keys.
He wasn’t going to panic. Not yet.