Page 151 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
A man and woman, exchanging cars as they exchange hearts.
I sigh and look up at the moon.
How romantic.
We traded cars like some high school students trade letterman jackets … and I’m going to bury this man—whoever he is—for free. Scarlett is nothing if not levelheaded. If she murdered this man, it was for a good reason.
I just need to make sure that this reason, valid as it may be, doesn’t come back to bite her in the ass.
Scarlett
Oh, Bohnes.
What do I do about Bohnes? Frankly, I should consider dating this guy. Like, for real. I should consider marrying him and offering up my dark soul. He’s that good. He’s that … confusing.
He’s first and foremost on my mind, even as I’m figuring out what to do about the million texts I just received about Widow and Aspen fighting down at the track. I already contacted Alexei and adjusted our meeting. I’m glad I called him, rather than texted him, because I was going to cancel our date altogether.
Then I heard his voice.
The easy confidence he displayed during the entirety of the party last night was gone. There was clear pain in his words, a grating melancholy that my heart recognized long before my head did.
He lost someone recently.
Who or how or why, I don't know. Most especially, I don’t understand what he needs from me.
The least I can do is meet with the guy over some food, right? Not that I expect him to eat anything. Bet the dude’s a phenomenal cook; he probably never eats out. How could he, when he wasn’t even willing to eat that fancy food at the art gallery?
I head down the long, dirt road, teasing my fingers over the gear shift and appreciating the velvety rumble of the Chevelle. I still can’t believe that Bohnes offered me the use of his car … or that I let him have use of mine.
That’s … like, a big deal at Prescott. We exchange cars the way Christian teens might swap purity rings. It’s a whole thing.
I just hope that I won’t regret demanding to know his price tonight. Last time, it was a date. What if he asks for more?
What if … I want to give him more?
No, Scarlett. No, no, no. He’s a fuckboy, just a fuckboy. That’s it.
Only, the thought reeks of a lie and only an idiot lies to themselves.
Okay, fine, I have a crush on Kellin Bohnes.
I admit it.
And, apparently, I trust him.
Why else would I call him all the way out here in the dark to help bury a body? Bohnes could’ve leveraged that against me in so many ways. Still could, if I’m being honest.
But what else was I supposed to do? Burying a body is a hell of a lot harder than I expected. I should ask Bohnes for lessons. Give a man fish, and he starves later. Teach him to fish, and he’ll never go hungry. Or something like that.
I pause at the end of the road, heft my phone up, and call Nisha.
“What the fuck is going on over there?” I ask, turning the speaker on and tossing the phone into the passenger seat.
“Widow just challenged Aspen to a race,” Nisha admits, the sound of the crowd and the roar of engines a comfortingly familiar if rather loud backdrop to our conversation. “They’re last up tonight, but it seems they’re going to put their differences aside until then at the very least.”
“Good,” I say, turning right onto the dark highway to head back into town. Or rather, to head into Eugene to meet Alexei. “Because I have plans, and I didn’t intend on heading over there until later.”
“What sort of plans?” Nisha asks, her voice rife with suspicious. “You are aware that these boys are racing over you, right?”
I figured as much. What I can’t figure out is why Aspen Kelly is at the track in the first place. After last night and those sick, fucked up threats against my family … I don’t understand him at all.
“How so?” I inquire, glancing at the clock on my dash. My mom and Alexis should be home by now, so that must mean they didn’t notice anything amiss, right?
Emma Jean and I did a damn fine job cleaning up such a macabre mess in a hurry. I sent her on her way, but not before making her take a photo with the blood and the body.
She did it, too, without complaint. At least now I have something to blackmail her with so that she’ll keep her mouth shut. We’ll figure out what, exactly, needs to be done about this situation with the mayor later, after we’ve both had a day or two to process.
As I thought, I’m going to have to bring Bohnes into this regardless, whether he asks me for my hand in marriage or whatever the fuck else. Wouldn’t be so bad anyway. I mean, I’m just saying that I wouldn’t totally hate it.
