Page 179 of Lost Lyrebird

“Oh, is that what they say?”

“Yep.”

At the door, I stand to the side and arch an eyebrow.“Care to do the honors, friend?”I nod my chin towards it.

“I’d love to.”He pulls his leg up like he’s winding up for a pitch, then kicks the door with so much force it bursts open.“Like ridin’ a fuckin’ bike.”His smile has never been wider.

Honestly, I’m pretty sure mine hasn’t either.I let him enter first, following behind with a spring in my step as his wicked, demented laugh echoes down the hallway.He slips right into his role as if he were made for it.And I have to say, it’s a laugh even Jack Nicholson would be proud of.

Hours later, we call it a night.The tarped body is stashed in my trunk, and a box full of Finn’s old journals is placed on my back seat.

I’ve done what I can to scrub the blood from my body and the residue of it from under my fingernails, but the need for a shower grows by the minute.

It took longer than we anticipated to take care of the body, but now that it’s behind us, I feel lighter—my heart, less heavy.

Bodie is still riding high from playing a deranged psycho.I eye him and try to gauge how long it’s going to be before he comes down.Maybe a day or two.Honestly, I think I really have created a monster.

Seeing this side of Bodie taught me one thing—fucking with kids is a hard line for him, and God help any man who ever reveals they’ve crossed it.A demon lives in that man, and he’ll come out to play if that trigger gets flipped.

Reaching into my car, I pull out my bag.When I find the makeup wipes, I grab a few.I try to pass some to Bodie, but he waves me off.I squat down next to my side mirror and begin cleaning off my face. When I’m done, I face him.“So, any regrets?”

“None.You?”

“Not a one.”

I pull the pins from my hair and remove the wig.After storing it along with the rest of the evidence of our little venture in my bag, I toss the bag back into the car.Bodie holds up the knife he used earlier.“Can I keep it?”

“It’s all yours.”

He grins and tucks it through his belt loop.

I lean back against the car, taking a moment to relax and take in the peaceful night.He joins me.

“Are we tellin’ Goose about this?”

With a heavy exhale, I say, “Yep.No more secrets or lies.That’s what we agreed to.We’re waiting until we can talk face-to-face to dig into the past, but we’ve agreed we’re done keeping things from each other.”

He dips his chin.“Good for you.Sounds like you guys finally figured things out.”

I shrug, staring out at the dark road ahead.“We’re working on it.”

“Yeah, the couple thing is hard.Fuck, adulting is hard.”

I chuckle.“It’s the worst, isn’t it?”

He palms his face, smearing what’s left of his makeup.Not that it wasn’t already wrecked from the night’s chaos, but now he really looks like the mad clown.“Shit,” he laughs when he sees all the makeup on his hands.He wipes it on his pants.Then his smile fades, and his voice drops.“Wish I could figure my own shit out too… but I think that ship has sailed.”

That catches me off guard.I turn fully toward him, my brows pinching together.“How so?”

He glances at me, then quickly looks away.“You don’t want to hear this.”

“Come on, we’re BFs now, aren’t we?Hit me with it.You never know, maybe getting a woman’s perspective will help.”

He snorts at that, running a hand through his hair.“You haven’t met her yet—my wife.Blaire.Not because I don’t want you to—generally, we avoid mixing the clubpieces with the old ladies.Because of you know, all the catfights that break out when the two collide.No offense.I know that’s not you anymore.”

“None taken.”

“Yeah, it’s just a thing.Otherwise, shit gets real.You know how it is.”