Page 34 of Tainted Truth

Dustin continues crying; I turn in my seat and give him a piercing stare. “Pull yourself together. We don’t have all night.”

When he makes no move to strap on the wire, I do it for him. He doesn’t put up a fight. Instead, silent tears slide down his cheeks.

I should probably feel something for Dustin, but I don’t. He deserves what has happened to him.

Zane and I pull Dustin from the car. “All right, asswipe. Walk me through it. What are you supposed to do?”

Dustin shivers in the warm air as he cries. Zane grumbles and finds a scratchy paper napkin in his backseat. “Clean yourself up and walk us the fuck through it.”

Wiping his nose and dabbing at his eyes, Dustin shakily responds. “Talk to Cain and dig for information.”

“And ask about Anthony Cole,” I prompt.

Dustin nods. “Ask about Anthony Cole.”

Clapping my hands, I nudge Dustin in the direction of Euphoria. “Now that we’re all on the same page,vamos.”

One foot in front of the other, Dustin trudges away across the concrete.

Zane crosses his arms and leans back against the passenger door. “He’s definitely a dead man.”

I mirror his stance next to him. “You got that right.”

Once Dustin disappears around the corner, Zane speaks up again. “Want to listen and eat snacks in the car?”

“Duh.”

CHAPTER 13

ZANE

Everyone makes fun of my car because of how small it is, and that’s fine. We’ll see who’s laughing when we’re in a chase and either need to get away, or catch up to a motherfucker, and we are able to do it because my “clown car” can weave in and out of traffic.

Fuck them.

Rio and I make ourselves comfortable in my car with a bag of cheese puffs and a couple of energy drinks. With our seats slightly reclined and my laptop set up between us, we sit back, waiting for the show to start.

Vibration pulses on my center console. “Is that Spencer’s mom calling her phone again?”

Opening the top latch, I snag the phone and read the name “Mom” across the screen, saying, “Yep,” then decline the call.

Rio frowns. “How many calls is that? Seven in the last few days?”

“Nine, I think.”

“Should we tell Spencer?”

“Not yet. There’s something off about her. I’ll look into it soon.”

“I fucking hate you for this.” Dustin’s voice crackles through the built-in speaker.

“Right back at ya,” I reply, even though Dustin can’t hear us. “Do you think we should have given him nicer clothes to wear? Ya know, to blend in.”

“Nah. He’s fine. We both know the likelihood of him coming out of this alive is slim. A fancy suit wouldn’t have changed that.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.”

Dustin’s hyperventilating is giving me a headache. I know it’s hard for people to accept their death, but this process would be so much easier if he’d just move on.

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