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We still had not nailed down what we were to each other. No labels. I was already terrified enough that I was having a baby so young, that I was fitting in to all those clichés I’d been certain I was going to stay away from. Even worse, they felt comfortable to me. Ilikedthem.
There was a pause where I imagined Elden was swallowing a chuckle. I also imagined he was struggling with the ‘baby daddy’ comment. He was not worried about clichés, about ancient, patriarchal structures. He just wanted me to be his.
And I wanted that too. Yet here I was, fighting against it, almost seven months pregnant with his baby.
“Okay, baby, I swear I will engage in battle with whoever ate the brownies,” he agreed solemnly.
I searched for the light in the walk-in pantry, flicking it … nothing happened.
“Hang on,” I told Elden. “Apparently, badass bikers can’t replace lightbulbs… Or mop the floor,” I added as I stepped in something sticky while I was turning on the flashlight on my phone.
Elden replied, I was sure he did. But I didn’t hear anything after the shrill howl entered my ears as the flashlight illuminated the narrow space in the pantry.
Maybe I screamed, though I think I let more of a shocked whimper. I really hoped I didn’t scream, it was far too cliché, and I hated when they always made the woman scream in movies.
“Violet,” Elden sounded urgent, his voice instantly changing, that warm teasing completely gone. So I must’ve let out some kind of sound to trigger his alarm.
My hand shook but didn’t move from where it was illuminating the body of one of the club girls. Jenna, I think her name was. We’d spoken a couple of times, she was sweet. She loved fantasy books too. Her little brother was going to Harvard. She was really proud of him.
And now she was lying in the pantry, covered in blood. It was everywhere, splattered on the walls. I was standing in it.
“Violet,” Elden repeated, louder now.
”J-Jenna’s dead,” I stuttered, my breath catching in my chest. The world swayed as I tried to blink the image away. It didn’t seem real. Couldn’t be real. There was so much blood. Too much. It seemed like an over eager extra on a horror movie set had gone overboard with the ketchup.
It couldn’t be real because that would mean I was standing there looking at the brutalized, dead body of a girl who had a brother in Harvard and liked to read books about magic.
“She, someone stabbed her,” I continued whispering, unable to look away. “Like a lot. Her eyes are open.” I stared at them. They were hazy. Empty.
“Violet, get out of there right now,” Elden demanded with a tinge of panic in his voice.
People spoke in the background of the phone. I didn’t hear what they said.
“That means she’s dead, right?” I asked. “Maybe she isn’t, maybe she’s just … in shock.”
I wished desperately for that to be true, even though the blood, the gruesome state of her body meant she was definitely dead. My brain could not accept that I was staring at a dead person. One who I’d seen alive, happy, smiling yesterday.
“I need to check for a pulse,” I muttered more to myself than Elden.
“You need to get the fuck out of there right now,” Elden barked, no longer calm at all.
Just as I knelt down, in her blood, I noticed distantly that there was a creak.
I froze.
The creak was the sound of a footstep against the floor. Somewhere. Not far.
“Someone’s still here,” I whispered in alarm. My heart thumped in my ears. My hand went to Jenna’s neck, even though my stomach protested as it did so. She was still warm. But there was no pulse. I was no forensic investigator, but I could deduce that she had been murdered recently. If I hadn’t stopped off at the gas station to pee, I likely would’ve happened upon the attack. Maybe I could’ve stopped it. Or maybe I’d be lying next to Jenna.
“He’s still here,” I whispered, quieter this time, fumbling for the flashlight on my phone that could be seen through the pantry door.
“I’m coming to you, Violet,” Elden said as I heard the roar of a bike. “We’re coming.”
That would’ve been comforting except I knew that Hansen and Macy’s place was ten minutes away. And that was being generous.
I heard another creak. Closer now.
I placed one hand protectively on my stomach. I was cold with terror. I crouched down farther, wanting to make myself as small as possible, as if that would help. What I needed was a weapon. But this pantry was full of snacks and nothing else.
