You and Damon were partners in crime—literally. The job had been simple: your boss gave the order, and the two of you followed through without question. The girl had put up a fight, but it didn’t matter in the end. Now she was just dead weight.

Damon was the one carrying her lifeless body, her limbs dangling awkwardly in his grip. You hadn’t touched her once since it was over—just the sight of her twisted face made your stomach churn.

“Shit… this girl’s heavy,” Damon groaned, his voice strained as he stumbled a little. He let out a yawn right after, like this was just another chore to check off.

“Weak,” you muttered with a smirk, snickering under your breath.

Damon rolled his eyes at you and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Shut up. Fuck you.”

He dropped the body onto the pile of freshly dug-up dirt with a dull thud, then stretched his back with a wince, like he’d just hauled furniture instead of a corpse.