Back home at their hideout, Emmett hung his damp coat on the rack to dry. Rivulets of rain glistened like little crystals in his blond hair. He kicked off his muddy shoes on the mat then made his way across their lounging room into the kitchen.

Their black cat, Phantom, brushed up against his leg, purring. Emmett leaned over and stroked his head before retrieving his food, stashed in the top cabinet. While the cat ate, Emmett fixed himself some leftover baked spaghetti that Kazimir stowed away in the fridge.

His conversation with Mal remained fresh on his mind as he ate, wondering if he'd made the right decision. It was time he stopped treating him like a teenager. Mal was a grown ass adult who needed to get his shit together. Anyone else would've already faced punishment for the stunts he'd pulled lately. It was all Jules' fault.

As Emmett polished off his supper, footsteps caught his attention. Kazimir rounded the corner, donned in sweatpants and an old t-shirt of his.

"Didn't realize you were back already. How'd things go with Mal?"

"Not that great," Emmett admitted with a frustrated groan. "I wish he'd pull his head out of his ass already. If this keeps up, he won't be allowed anywhere near our supply. I've given him a week to get my stuff back."

Kazimir's brows knitted in a frown as he pulled out a chair beside him. "What'll happen to him? You'll kick him from the gang?"

"He loses all his connections, yet he'll remain in debt to me. Mal already owes me three grand, and that's not counting the supply he let his bitch shoot up," Emmett explained.

Kazimir gaped. "Jesus Christ, he's taken that much of our supply?"

"No, that's from money I've lent him to keep living. He doesn't have a real job, you know. I think he tried putting in at a few places, but none ever hired him. They take one look at his criminal record and it's done for."

"I see." Kazimir sighed, leaning back in his chair. ""I hope he gets the supply back."

Emmett nodded. "Me too."

After eating his supper, Emmett made his way up into their shared bedroom. They showered together before heading to bed.

From where he laid on their mattress, Emmett admired the artwork tattooed on Kaz's pale skin. A detailed dragon stretched across his chest while a half sleeve of peonies covered his upper arm, surrounding a dreamcatcher. The gang's signature tattoo was centered on Kaz's other arm, opposite from the dreamcatcher.

Being wrapped in a cocoon of warm fluffy blankets never felt better to Emmett. His bare arms caressed the soft fabric as he reached out and pulled Kazimir closer. Emmett didn't mind exposing the patchwork of abuse on his body to Kazimir, as he did the same. They shared a craving that most people couldn't understand.

"Do you ever think about the future?" Kazimir asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Emmett combed his fingers through Kazimir's soft, damp, dark brown hair.

"With us." Kazimir clarified.

"Well, I see you in my future, Kaz. Dunno about anything else, but I know I'll always have you by my side."

"I feel the same way." Kazimir smiled, snuggling against the gangster's chest. "I know things are rough right now, but it won't always be this way. We'll figure everything out. We can all pitch in together, and we can make budget cuts."

"We'll be okay. No need to make cuts yet. I've got enough saved up to replenish our supply if Mal can't get it back," Emmett explained. "As long as we keep dealing, we'll get through this."

"Whatever you need, let me know." Kazimir kissed his cheek. "You don't have to deal with this alone, okay?"

"I know. I love you, Kaz."

"Love you too."

Sleep didn't come to Emmett that night. Too much weighed on his mind, but he didn't want to worry his lover. Kazimir snored beside him as he checked the digital clock on the DVD player across from them; it's bright light taunting him with every minute that slowly turned over.

Not only was he concerned about the ordeal with Mal and his stash but Brian's murder weighed heavily on his mind too. There hadn't been any news reports, so nobody must've found his body yet. It was only a matter of time. How would the cops piece together having the young teenager involved? Would they realize he killed her too? Jeez, he had to chill the fuck out. His paranoia couldn't get the best of him. He'd be fine. Nobody would know he ever stepped a foot in that godforsaken house.

Swaddled in one of the blankets, Emmett slipped out of bed with his phone, careful not to wake Kazimir. Creeping down the hall like a thief in the night, he fetched his cigarettes and Zippo for a smoke in the lounging room. Rain continued to drown the town outside, pecking against the windowpane.

Flicking his Zippo for a spark, he lit his cigarette and inhaled the nicotine into his lungs. He let out a ghostly puff of smoke as he reclined back on the couch. He checked his phone, finding an unexpected text from Mal. His hand trembled as he pulled the cigarette away from his lips.

Help Me. At Serenity Cemetery.

What the hell had he gotten himself into now? Storming back to his bedroom with the cigarette dangling from his lips, Emmett flipped the light on. He hated waking Kazimir, but he didn't want to leave him there alone. Not after he'd been sneaking around by himself so much already.

"Is something wrong?" Kazimir lifted his head up, squinting his eyes against the bright light.

"Mal just texted me. Said he needs help. He's at the cemetery. I asked him what's going on but he hasn't responded," Emmett explained. "I dunno what he's done but I'm about to find out."

Yawning, Kazimir got to his feet and tugged his gray pullover back on. After wiping his tired-looking eyes, he grabbed his glasses and laced up his old paint-stained converse. No matter how many times Emmett insisted he wear the new pair he bought him, Kazimir always chose his raggedy shoes. Neither of them bothered to change out of their lounging wear.

Emmett snatched his keys off the nightstand, and the two of them headed out to the hideout's garage. They climbed into his truck and set out to Serenity Cemetery.

Rain beat against the windshield as Emmett flicked the wipers on. Sweat beat down his brow. Despite how irked he was with Mal, he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach as they cruised down the streets of Viper Valley. Why was Mal down at the cemetery so late? Did he try to get the drugs back? Did something go wrong?

Nobody else dared to venture out into the atrocious weather so late. The slick roads remained barren the entire drive to the cemetery. Only the faint music from the radio on low volume reverberated throughout the truck.

Making a sharp left, Emmett pulled up to a chain length fence. The groundskeeper had already locked it up. They couldn't drive through like he'd planned to.

"Son of a bitch," Emmett swore under his breath. "Guess I'll have to jump the fence."

"In this rain? Have you lost your mind?"

"You got a better plan?" Emmett asked. "Mal got in there somehow, so I can too."

Circling around the vast cemetery to the other entrance, from the back road, they discovered Mal's rust-bucket car. When they pulled up beside it, Emmett realized there was nobody inside. That meant Mal had to be inside the cemetery, just as he expected.

Emmett put the truck in park and propped his squeaky door open, tugging his hood over his head. He peered into the car's windows for any clues about his old friend's whereabouts. It made no sense for him to be in the cemetery with it pouring down rain. Not unless he was in the middle of a drug deal or something else nefarious. Maybe that was why he needed help. Something went wrong.

Emmett yanked Mal's driver's side door open, climbing across receipts and old take-out food bags. It smelled like marijuana and body odor. Wrinkling his nose, Emmett rummaged through a backpack on the passenger side floor. Only a half-eaten bag of potato chips and a pack of condoms were inside it, but when he rummaged more, he found something very interesting. Several wads of cash filled it.

"Find anything?" Kazimir called out from the truck.

Climbing out of Mal's rancid-smelling car, Emmett hurried back to the safety of his truck with the backpack. What had Mal been up to and where did he go? Surely he couldn't be ignorant enough to leave so much money alone.

"Look at this." Emmett showed him the crumpled hundred dollar bills. "I think he was gonna try to buy some of the supply back. Where'd he get this from?"

"Maybe he borrowed it from someone?" Kazimir suggested. "Or maybe he had it saved up?"

"Possibly borrowed it. That doesn't explain where he is now." Emmett checked his phone for the umpteenth time. "He still isn't answering me. I need to get inside that cemetery."

"I was afraid you'd say that." Kazimir sighed. 

"You can stay here in the truck," Emmett offered, handing him Mal's backpack. "Honk the horn twice if someone drives up here or tries to enter the cemetery. I'll leave the keys here too, in case you need them."

"Are you sure? I can come with you," Kazimir replied.

"Nah, it's fine. I need a lookout. I'll be back soon."

Kazimir nodded. "Be careful."

Emmett made his way up to the chain fence. Rain pelted him as he climbed it, then ungracefully fell on the other side. Mud splattered his pants. "Fuck." He reached into his pocket for his phone and flicked the flashlight app on. Shining it all around the rows of headstones, he called out, "Mal?"

Nobody answered him. Emmett wandered through the wet leaves, sloshing beneath his feet. More thunder rumbled in the sky. It was like a perfect scene in a horror thriller; alone in a cemetery while it pissed and poured. Hopefully the damn dead didn't rise from the ground. With how the world kept going to hell, it wouldn't surprise him if a zombie apocalypse was next.

Strong gusts of wind tried to tug him back as Emmett pushed onward. His shouts for Mal echoed to the dead in vain. Maybe he left with someone else? If so, why'd he text him for help? It made no sense.

Just when Emmett was about to give up, a figure came into view, slumped up against one of the trees. Taking cautious steps forward, Emmett almost dropped his phone as he shined the light over the area. Emmett reeled back, clamping a hand over his mouth at the discovery of his old friend.

Blood oozed indecently from the wounds inflicted to Mal's abdomen. Emmett leaned down and gently pressed a finger up to his neck, expecting a faint pulse that wouldn't be there. What the hell happened? Emmett couldn't believe he was dead. They spoke only hours ago.

If only he'd answered sooner... If only he'd been less of a hardass on him about the drugs...

He tried to find any clues the killer might've left behind. The fabric of Mal's polo was shredded by the killer's weapon, which was nowhere to be found. It had been sunk deep into his chest to kill him, where he'd gotten a memorial tattoo of his grandmother inked.

Leaning closer, Emmett noticed defensive marks on his knuckles. Mal had put up a fight against his killer. His phone laid beside him, the screen cracked and muddy. In his final moments, he'd reached out for Emmett and he didn't save him.

Crimson strings of saliva clung to Mal's bruised lips like spiderwebs. His soulless eyes bore right into Emmett's, pleading for help. Guilt weighed heavy in Emmett's heart. He should've gotten there sooner. Mal would still be alive if he had. Why had he given him such a hard time about their stash?

Amid the thunder and heart pounding in his ears, Emmett barely heard the horn blare from his truck. Was someone else there? Could it be Mal's killer? That was unlikely. Whoever killed him was probably long gone by now. Pulling himself off the ground, he looked back at Mal one last time.

"I'll find the fucker who did this, I promise."

Strong gusts of wind tugged his hood down, rustling up Emmett's blond hair. Cold raindrops pelted his face as he struggled to move away. He couldn't leave his friend alone on the wet ground. He'd already failed Mal once. He wouldn't do it again.

Emmett took a few steps back underneath the tree, reaching into his coat pocket for his phone. It shielded him a little from the rain. With trembling fingers, he dialed the number he dreaded. It didn't matter who else was in the cemetery. But if someone happened to be around, they might try pinning it all on Emmett for leaving the scene of the crime.

Pressing the device against his ear, he strained to hear the 911 operator on the other line. Fleeing would only make him look guilty, and that was the last thing Emmett wanted. While he didn't have much faith in the cops, he knew they needed to be informed of Mal's murder.

"I need to report a murder," Emmett said. "I'm at Serenity Cemetery. In the middle section, across from the mausoleum."

Crunching leaves startled Emmett. When he turned toward the source of the sound, there was nothing but granite headstones. The footsteps came again, much closer. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, he tried to focus on the operator's voice.

The trees didn't help him much from getting drenched, but it was better than standing out in the open. The nice dispatch lady kept talking to Emmett, asking more questions about his friend and why they were out in the cemetery so late at night. Emmett knew everything he told her went into the official police report. It was possible that they'd considered him a suspect, self-reporting his crime.

Emmett needed to tell Kazimir what happened, so he hung up on the 911 operator to call his lover. If the cops questioned the abrupt call ending, he'd lie about his battery dying. Not like they'd know.

"We've got a big problem."

"Someone's here," Kazimir interrupted him. "Parked a little down from the truck. I think it might be the groundskeeper. You need to get out of there."

"That's part of the problem. I can't leave," Emmett replied. "I already called the cops."

"Why? What's going on?"

Emmett paused for a moment."Mal's dead."

"Shit. I'll be right there," Kazimir told him. "What happened? How..?"

"No, stay in the truck. You're safer there," Emmett said. "Someone stabbed him in the chest, left him here to bleed out."

"Jesus, alright. I'm heading out there now. Hold on. Where are you?"

Emmett groaned and told him his location, leaning back against the damp tree bark as he waited for Kazimir. Why couldn't he have just listened and stayed in the car until the cops arrived? More rustling came from behind him, causing the gang leader to be inquisitive and investigate the source. He stayed on the line with Kazimir, keeping his phone pressed close to his ear.

"I think someone's still out here," Emmett told him.

"Don't do anything reckless, okay? I'm almost there."

Emmett kept his eyes peeled for any silhouettes amid the pelting rain. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Mal's killer probably fled right after stabbing him. He needed to chill out. Nobody would attack him out there, not after he just reported Mal's murder. That didn't explain what the hell Mal was doing out there and why'd he send him that text, needing help.

He couldn't shake away the feeling that he was being watched, despite there being no sign of anyone else around. Was it possible the killer still hid in the cemetery? But where? Dread sunk in his chest when he realized his precious Kazimir could be in the crosshairs of a dangerous murderer.

As paranoia wrapped around his mind like a snake, Kazimir emerged from behind the mausoleum building. He hurried over to Emmett, splashing through the puddles, donned in a poncho.

"Found these in the backseat. Thought they'd come in hand." Kazimir handed him an extra poncho in his hand. "Where's Mal?"

"Up here." Emmett gestured to the ginormous tree as he slipped the poncho on. "It's gruesome, so you don't have to look."

Despite Emmett's warning, Kazimir took a peek at Mal's body. The color drained from his lover's face as he reeled back. Rain pitter-pattered from the branches, washing away some of the blood.

"Who would do something like this?" Kazimir asked, his voice cracking.

"I don't know." Emmett shook his head. "But you can be damn sure that I'm gonna find the fucker who did this to him."