Page 7 of Blood & Kisses

“Yeah, but it’s pretty obvious what happened to him,” I chuckle under my breath. “And he is one hundred percent dead?”

“That’s the rumor,” he answers precariously. “Why are you worried you didn’t do the job properly?”

“It’s something Blake said,” I sigh, finding my appetite has waned, not that I had much of one in the first place.

“Ah, he’s checking to see if you left a paper trail or, in your case, a blood trail,” he says far too calmly, and I can’t help but feel uneasy about his attitude.

“Why are you so relaxed over this?” I ask, breathing over a brick in my stomach.

“People die all the time,” he says flippantly, taking another bite of his bagel and pointing his big finger at mine. “You don’t want that?”

“I’ll eat it later, and I’m just…my stomach is tied in knots. I guess it’s got nothing to do with you, so you have nothing to worry about,” is the conclusion I come to as to why he’s chilling out so easily.

“Hardly, we’re accomplices to your crime, harbored a criminal and about to tamper with evidence,” he replies, still unbelievably calm, which makes me even more nervous.

“Tampering with evidence?” I ask, trying to figure in my mind when they did that.

“Not yet. Maybe soon it will have to be done,” he replies. “Anyway, it’s imperative that you just act normal.” He waits for another group of students to walk by before adding, “Blake has it all sorted. He got rid of your car and that weird costume you wore…” he cringes. “What is the deal with that? Why a lion mask?”

“It’s Simba,” I correct him, and he still doesn’t get it, so I explain, “From the Lion King.” I’m about to protest about my car being dumped, but I know it’s the right thing to do. Boy, I’m going to miss my little yellow speedster.

“Yeah? And?” He frowns, mystified.

“Lyons. Lion. Jeez, Cormac, I can’t believe I have to spell it out to you,” I say impatiently, tensing up so much that an ache penetrates my skull from behind my eyes.

“Got it,” he replies. “I swear I saw an eagle head or something.”

“Crow. It’s a Looney Tunes crow. The Crow is one of the codenames of the men to dehumanize them. The Lion, the Pig, the Crow…” My hands turn suddenly cold when I think of the last one, the evilest man on earth. He will be the hardest man to kill, not because I have an emotional attachment to him, but because he’s rarely alone, always surrounded by security and sycophants.

“And the fourth man?” he asks the question I don’t want to answer.

I swallow, “The Snake.”

He falls quiet to reflect as his narrowed blue eyes are glued to my face. “So, if Simba the Lion represents Lyons, does The Pig represent someone called Porky or…wait, Kevin Bacon? Jeez, Rae, assassinating Kevin Bacon is not a good idea, no matter how much you hate Footloose.”

I snort, assuming he’s joking, although it’s hard to tell with that unanimated face. “No,” I clear my throat before whispering, “he used to be a cop.”

He grinds his teeth, making his square jaw pulsate. “You’re planning to kill a cop?” His tone has turned stern and nerve-racking. “Rae, that’s on a different level-”

“No. He used to be a cop. He quit…” I stop myself from adding more information about Gavin the Pig.

“Okay,” he relaxes again, sipping his coffee from the cardboard cup. “That’s alright then.”

“You know I’m not going to stop at Lyons?” I tell him quietly, part warning, part promise.

He nods. “We know.” His hand finds my face as he brushes a stray blond hair from my eyes. “We’ve got this covered, Rae. There’s no need for you to worry about a thing.”

I lick my bottom lip as the back of his fist brushes along my cheeks, and I lean into his comforting hand. “Why do I get the sneaky suspicion that you’ve done this before?” I challenge, staring at him directly, and he drops his hand away.

“Which part?” he answers my question with a question. “The having a coffee with the hottest chick I’ve ever seen part. Or the covering your back after you killed my coach part?” He sips his coffee, not expecting an answer.

“All of it,” I reply, watching him closely as he finishes off his coffee, and it occurs to me how organized and efficient these three men are, as if…they’ve done it before and maybe, just maybe, they’ve killed before as well.

4

While waiting for Cormac to finish class and take me back to Romano Terrace, I entered ‘Coach Lyons’ into my phone's search engine to see if the information had been updated. And there it was, as clear as day: the headline reads Popular Swim Coach Slain.

“Slain?” I mutter as my skin crawls when someone walks up behind me. It’s a student on their way to class perfectly innocently, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking the worst. “Slain is a little dramatic.”

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