Savage Things (Chaos & Ruin Book 2) by Callie Hart

buried her deep. We buried her in the most secluded spot we could find, where she would be at peace, where she wouldn’t have to suffer any further.
    We didn’t count on the floodwaters loosening the soil, though. There was no way to know the storms that hit Seattle recently would unearth her, disrupting her final resting place.  
    Sloane and Michael exchange a wary look. They both know what this means, too. They found my sister. They found Lacey.  

    ******

    SLOANE

    I’ve seen Zeth angry before, too many times to recall, but this time it’s different. This time his anger is tinged with a pain he usually tries to tamp down and forget about, but now he’s being forced to face it head on, and it’s more than he can bear. My beautiful, wild Zeth. Still so torn apart inside by grief that he can’t even say his sister’s name. I’m still mad at him, yes, but I’m also hurting so bad for him right now.  
    “No doubt they found more than a partial print on her,” Michael’s saying somewhere in the distance. “We all touched her. Every last one of us helped lower her into the ground.”
    “I’m the only one with a criminal record. My fingerprints are the only ones in their database.” He sounds stunned. None of us ever thought we’d be faced with this problem. We’ve tiptoed around the subject of Lacey because no one really wants to deal with the fresh, brightly burning pain of her loss yet. Not even me, who knew her so briefly. I loved her, though. It was impossible not to. The indignity of her body being dug up by a Labrador is significant; it feels as though we’ve disrespected her in the worst way, allowing her remains to be now poked and prodded at by a forensic team as well.  
    “And so Lowell just somehow managed to find out about this and came back here?” I say. “It makes no sense. This isn’t her jurisdiction. A murder has nothing to do with drugs. Not necessarily, anyway.”
    Mason says, “She said she has homicides in this area flagged. She thinks they’re all linked to some motorcycle gang over in New Mexico who deal weed.”
    Zeth laughs bitterly. “The Widow Makers don’t deal weed. Maybe they used to run it from state to state every once in a while, but not in a long ass time.”
    For a moment, we all sit in silence, mulling on the information we’ve just received. Lowell’s trying to pin Lacey’s murder on Zeth. Ironic that he’s killed a fair few people in his time and yet Lacey, the one person he didn’t kill, is potentially going to mean trouble for him. Perhaps Lowell knows Zeth isn’t responsible for Lacey’s death, and perhaps she doesn’t. Either way, she’ll bend every rule and limbo under red tape until she finds a way to make the charge stick.  
    “What have you told her?” Zeth demands, crossing the room toward Mason. The kid leans back into his chair, eyes full of steel, jaw set. He’s determined not to show fear.  
    “I told her about Michael,” he says. “I said I thought he was probably doing a lot of your dirty work for you.”
    Michael laughs. “ Charming .”
    “I don’t know, man. I had to tell her something. She’s convinced something illegal’s going on at the gym, like you might be dealing drugs or guns there or something. She told me to stick around after hours as often as I could and eavesdrop on any meetings you might have.”
    “And how did that work out for you?” Zeth’s lips are pressed together, turned white from the pressure he’s applying to them. This version of him is an echo, a ghost of the man he was when we first met. He’s still so shut off sometimes, so stern and stoic when interacting with the outside world, but he’s a million times better than he used to be. The wall that stood between him and the rest of society has been deconstructed for a while now; it’s strange and unpleasant to see it go back up again so easily now.  
    “I told her the truth—that you don’t have meetings there. She didn’t believe me,