Page 21 of Burn Bag

“He didn’t hate you. He wasn’t in his right mind.”

Sure, everyone else could say that. They hadn’t nearly lost everything because the boss had decided to take out his frustrations on them.

I searched and searched for any hint of a rifle in the distance, but not a single flash of light caught my attention. It would be easier if someone was here to kill us. Then I could imagine I wasn’t the only intended target. Not that I wanted anyone else to tumble into a grave like I had. That was not a pleasant experience.

“Do you think he’s really dead?” Eli asked, leaning over to whisper.

It was one of the questions that everyone was asking. No one had confirmed or denied one way or another. In fact, Fox seemed almost gleeful that Cash was dead. But then again, Cash had shot The Kamau. That had to be some kind of cardinal sin.

I glanced around at all the faces at the funeral. Most were sad, but Eva…if Eva didn’t think he was dead, she was doing a hell of a job acting. “Those tears can’t be fake,” I whispered. “Look at her. She’s devastated.”

“True, but…”

“But what?”

“Well, it’s Eva. She’s like Fox.”

That was another good point. “But would she really put her kids through that?”

“I guess that depends on what’s at stake.”

I elbowed him in the side, nodding to a man on the far side of the cemetery. “Who’s that?”

Eli’s gaze followed mine, but he shook his head. “No fucking clue.”

I adjusted my sunglasses, using the microscopic camera in the corner of the frames to take a picture. Sometimes, I really fucking loved my job. “I got a picture. I’ll send it over to Rae.”

“Why isn’t she here?”

“Someone had to be at OPS.”

“Yeah, but I would think that would be suspicious as hell.”

I smirked at that. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll find a way to make her presence known.”

Red shifted uncomfortably beside me. “I fucking hate funerals.”

“Get in line,” I muttered. “At least you didn’t almost die at one.”

“How fucking long are we gonna hear that?” he grumbled.

“How long? Are you serious? I nearly died in my father’s grave, and you want to know how long that’s going to bother me?”

“Well, yeah. Sort of,” Red snapped. “Like another year? Three years? I’d like to know how many more funerals I have to avoid.”

“You know, you’re a real prick.”

“I’m a prick? Jesus, you’re like a crazy man with all your phobias and insecurities. Fuck, you can’t even find yourself a wife the normal way.”

“Not everyone is lucky enough to find their wife on the side of the road,” I retorted. “Maybe I should just scan the highway for any women desperate for a man to change their tires.”

“It wasn’t like that and you know it,” Red argued.

“Right,” I laughed. “Poor Zoe, completely helpless. I don’t buy that for a fucking second.”

“You guys,” Eli hissed. “Everyone’s staring.”

“That’s fine. I’m done talking to this asshole, anyway.”

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