My cheeks are wet, and I’m panting so hard I might be hyperventilating.
But I still can’t bring myself to pull away.
The life dies from his eyes, and his shallow breaths are no more, yet I still beat down on him.
I murmur to him over and over, though even I’m not sure of what I’m saying.
I don’t stop until my body gives out, and I collapse on top of him.
FIFTY-ONE
COLE
My arms band around Lana’s waist as she pounds down on Callum. I don’t think she’s even noticed me holding her, but I’m not about to make it known.
And I’m not about to pull her away. This asshole has taken so damn much from her, and I know she needs this.
The need to feel his pain before she can let go of her own.
I can feel the fight slowly starting to drain out of her, her hits becoming weaker, her rhythm starting to slow until she slumps over, but my hold on her stops her from falling on top of him completely. I lift her, and Logan kicks Brice’s body out of the way to make a path for me to walk her through to the living room and lay her down on the sofa—the sofa that faces the one with a dead guy on it.
I guess Lana got to him.
“We should let her rest for a while,” Logan murmurs, and I nod in agreement. When Dare had told us his plan for getting in here, he had also told us the plan he and Lana had been working on. How they’d been compiling information onthe family and should it ever come to this, they were going to leave it behind if they made it out alive.
I look back towards the dining room. I can’t see his body from here, but I know his death is going to kill my girl.
“We can’t just leave him here. He wouldn’t want that, and neither will Lana.”
Logan nods his agreement, and we debate for a few minutes on what we should do before settling on burying him just off of the Richardson property, since we don’t want to do it on their land, but we also can’t drive too far with him in the car in case we get caught.
Lana sleeps peacefully on the couch, and I’m in no rush to wake her. She’s barely slept in days, and after everything she learned today, she has to be exhausted.
We work quickly and quietly, cleaning up what we need to in order not to leave any evidence of us being here. Logan is good at this, and it makes me wonder if he’s ever done anything like this before. He didn’t even bat an eyelash at killing someone. I’ve always known he has secrets, I’ve just never caught on to how dark those secrets really are.
It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since we got home, and Lana has barely spoken a word. She’s been sleeping a lot, which is to be expected, but the guys and I are starting to worry about her.
I cradled her in my arms the entire drive back to Blackwater while Logan drove, and then carried her inside where Noah and Harley were pacing the living room, worried out of their minds since Lana, Logan and I had just disappeared without a word, and they couldn’t reach anyone.
Their barrage of questions came to a halt once they saw me carrying Lana in my arms, all of us covered in bruises from the fight we had to endure on the way into the Richardson mansion. Lana had already taken out most of the guards with the help of a guy Dare knew on the inside, but we still had our fair share to deal with.
But once I had Lana settled in my bed and I made it back out to the main room, their questions came flying at me and Logan. He opted to stay mostly silent, letting me answer in ways I wanted, only telling them as much as I needed to.
They don’t need to know that Logan and I have blood on our hands, or the depth of Lana’s past. I kept it as vague aspossible whilst also telling them the truth, since I do trust them both with my life.
“She should be up by now, right? Threatening us and stuff?” Harley says in a hushed whisper, glancing towards my room with concern in his eyes.
The guys all look equally as worried, and I’m glad they have my back. None of us have been in a relationship before, but they’ve just added Lana to the fold without question.
I pace in front of the sofa where Noah and Harley are sitting while Logan stands off to the side. It doesn’t escape my notice that he’s strategically standing where he can see the door to my bedroom.
“Maybe we should call a doctor?” Noah adds, worrying his bottom lip.
Logan snorts. “She’s not dying. She’s grieving.”
His eyes immediately flick to me, and I sigh… we may have left out the part where the dean of the school came with us because he was like an uncle to her, and that he didn’t make it back.
The entire time we spent burying him, Lana just sat there with a blank look in her eyes.
