“I don’t think so. He’ll either threaten you to tidy the fuck up or drag your ass to Lorenzo for that same warning, only scarier.”
“Okay. Why don’t we let him, then?” Spettro shrugs. “Or, hell, I’ll go meet with Lorenzo myself.”
“Let me just think it through first. This shit is delicate.”
He hesitates for a second then nods.
“And what about the Reapers?” I add.
His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “What about them?”
“You don’t think they’re trying to find out who’s hunting them for sport? You don’t think they’re dying to have your head on a platter?”
He huffs a laugh. “They think they’re being haunted by a literal ghost. They’re too fucking dumb to find their own asses with both hands and a flashlight, let alone figure out who I am. I’m not worried about the Reapers.”
“Still, maybe it wouldn’t hurt if you came to stay at my place for a little while until we sort everything out.”
He turns his head and looks out over the quarry, the half-full moon reflected in the water, and I hold my breath waiting for his answer. Maybe I’m overreacting, but I don’t want to risk it. If the Sleepless Reapers did manage to find his apartment and catch up with him, and they decided to even the score over all the blood on his hands, I really would have to burn this entire fucking city to the ground. Over my dead body is anyone going to take Spettro from me.
“Fine,” he says gruffly, and I let out a relieved breath. “Only for a little while though. And once we’re done here, we need to stop at my place for some of my stuff.”
“Yeah.” I agree readily, trying not to let him see the smile stretching across my face.
He turns abruptly and moves towards the trunk.
“How are we doing this?” he asks.
Good question. I sweep my gaze along the shoreline, looking for the best way to get this fucker under water, and smile.
“Looks like it’s our lucky night.” I jerk my chin and he turns to follow my gaze to the upturned rowboat not too far down the shore. And it’s a quarry, so there are plenty of large rocks all around. This shouldn’t be too hard at all.
“Perfect.”
There’s a roll of garbage bags in the trunk, tucked under the head of our ugly friend. I pull them out and shove one into my pocket, and Spettro unwinds the rope from around the bloated neck, slinging it over his own shoulder. Then, we each take one end and heave him out of the trunk.
“This is why I just leave them,” he grunts, trying to get a good grip on the feet while I struggle for a hold on the shoulders, the middle part of the oversized body sagging between us with at least two hundred and fifty pounds of dead weight.
“Believe me, I know,” I huff. “I had to toss those two assholes into a dumpster for you the other night and they still ended up being found by morning.”
“What?” He whips his head up and loses his grip on one of the legs, which throws off my balance and sends the useless sack of shit straight to the ground.
“You’re not the only one lurking in alleys late at night. Last week on my way home to meet you, I heard a commotion and went to check it out. I never managed to get a look at you, but I saw both of them get shot. After you took off, I tried to clean up so Xav wouldn’t feel any extra urgency to find you.”
“Thanks,” he mutters.
“Anytime.”
We both look down at the body, and then I glance back over at the boat. It didn’t look all that far away until now.
“This isn’t working,” Spettro states the obvious.
I look at the rope, then down at the body again. “Hold on, I have an idea.”
I snag the rope from around his neck and tie it around the Reaper’s ankles, then give it a tug. Gravel kicks up and I grunt with the exertion, but it should be easier than actually carrying him.
“Nice,” Spettro says. “You must have a lot of experience with body disposal.”
I chuckle. “Second time, actually. My specialty is more in tax fraud and threats than murder most of the time. I am pretty handy with explosives, but other than that, it’s Xav’s department, and you wouldn’t believe how much he bitches about cleanup.”