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Grim couldn't hold it in anymore. He clenched his jaw and let them go.

One drop.

Two drops.

Hot, salty tears slid down his face.

He bit his bottom lip. It ached. His heart felt like it was bursting from the inside out.

Like his crashed were clogged, and bursting. What was happening? How could this happen?

How could she be gone?

Just yesterday she told him he was a big fat meanie because he ate her ice cream.

Today...today she's dead, her body crushed, all 206 bones. Unrecognizable. But was there justice for her?

Oh no. Because a phantom did it, smashed into the grill of an innocents woman's and took her life for the sheer hell if it!

And that's oh-f*****g-kay cause this is America!

He grunted, smashing a cup against the wall.

How is this fair! How is this Justice?

Not one. Not one of her bones was left in tact, this wasn't even a fuckin manic—it was a message.

From who? For what? Why her?

Why now? Why?

He just kept imagining how scared she must've been. What was the last thinh she thought of?

Was it him?

What did she scream? Was it his name?

They had to cremate her. They couldn't even reconstruct her remains. She was completely and utterly crushed.

He couldn't get over it. It was some reason why they did that—whoever it was.

There are 206 bones in the adult body.

They found 216. Ten more bones than normal. Someone else was in that car. Or...

Grim didn't even think about it. He didn't dare. Didn't want to. Wouldn't try it.

He just focused on those 206.

206 bones that made her. The woman he'd grown to love.

And whoever this was, was determined to destroy every piece of her.

Why? It was obviously personal. Planned to the T. He drunk down another swig of Gin.

Then, he remembered something.

“Nabis.”

The Gin was messing with him. It was on the top of his tongue.

He just had to remember.

Remember...

“There was this man, his name was Nabis. Back in Mexíco. He wanted my Mamá to marry him. Mamá and me, we ran from his gang, Cien, hundred. He said one day, he could find us and make us pay. But then the war came, and we were all but forgotten. Sometimes, I still get nightmares about him.”

Grim rubbed her cheek consolingly. “Where is he now?”

“Last I heard, he died in the war.”

That was it! Nabis. Maybe he wasn't dead. Grim smirked, polishing off the bottle of alcohol.

Then he got out his phone.

“Becca," He slurred. “Yeah. I need you to find someone.”

He stared at the pendant in his hands, the only thing left of his. Clutching it in his hand, he rubbed his thumb across the face.

“It's urgent.”