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It was amazing how much blood you could lose, and how quickly you could lose it. I thought I’d learned enough about it when I’d cut my own wrist to spite Gareth, but that was nothing compared to this.
This was an ungodly amount. It was biblical.
I guess I did like Neo… but only after he was dead.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, leaning on him, getting covered in his blood, but it had to be at least a few minutes. Enough time to calm my body down—or, at least, I thought so. I pulled my hips up, letting his cock slip free, the mess of juices and piss from the fucking and the dying mixing and mingling, dribbling out of my pussy and onto him.
Neo’s plot to take down Gareth and Alistair and Rick was no more. It was no help to those who’d already lost their lives, no help at all to Erin and her family, but at least it was over. At least the asshole couldn’t hurt anyone else ever again.
That’s what I told myself, anyway. That’s what I chanted in my head, repeating to myself over and over, to make me feel better about what I’d done.
After sliding off of his spent cock, I didn’t get off him. I straddled his stomach, slow to sit up and draw my face away from his neck and all of his blood. My face, my neck, my tits and my stomach; somehow I’d gotten covered in the red stuff. It was like my skin had been tinted red.
Neo was still warm, but he was deader than dead. I killed him. I still held onto the knife, too. I’dkilledhim. I was a killer now, just like Gareth and Rick and probably Alistair. I guess, when you got down to it, I wasn’t so different than them after all.
My head spun as I stared at Neo’s face. His eyes were still open, his mouth parted just a bit, and I reached out to touch his face, bringing a bloodied hand to his mouth, touching his lips. So fresh… rigor mortis hadn’t set in yet, obviously. He was pliant and warm, though he wouldn’t be for long. My stare moved to the switchblade, to its stained steel.
I could get up and leave right now, but where’d be the fun in that? Maybe it was the drugs talking, but I might as well make it count.
No, I think I’d stay for a while.
Chapter Sixteen – Rick
After stitching myself up, I hit the sack. Who knew working so late and then coming home to ward off an attempted murder was so exhausting? Or maybe the truly exhausting part had been sitting down and talking to Gareth, agreeing to a truce between us.
Whoever she said I love you to first won, and whoever lost had to accept the outcome no matter what. I could do that. I… was pretty sure I could do that.
I tried not to think too much about it the next day. It helped that I didn’t wake up until about noon—way past my normal rising time, but when your body wanted to sleep, it told you. My shoulder was sore, but that was to be expected thanks to the stab wound. I’d stitched it up as best I could myself, but it was nothing like what a doctor would do.
Note to self: avoid getting stabbed in the future. That shit wasn’t fun.
Once I rolled out of bed, I took a quick shower, all the while careful to not reopen the wound on my neck. I got dressed, brushed my teeth, trimmed my facial hair, and then shuffled to the kitchen to make myself something. And then, once I’d eaten, I did something that wasn’t, let’s just say, strictly legal.
Hey, Alistair had been using me for years. I think it was high time I pulled some strings for myself, even if I was only doing it to get a leg up on the asshole.
All I needed was her phone number, and what would you know, I had it already. By two, I was able to track her phone. Yes, it was like spying, but with Gareth, I wouldn’t put anything past him. Hell, the kid might try to kidnap her and force her to say those words to him under duress.
So, yeah, I wanted to keep an eye on her.
Honestly, as the day wore on, I was surprised I didn’t get any calls or texts from Brianna asking how I was. I assumed she had to know by now that Gareth had tried to kill me. If she didn’t… hmm. Maybe I should call her.
I wrestled with my decision to call her for a while. It was near dinnertime when I decided to bite the bullet and give her number a call. I was sitting on the couch, the same couch I’d had my heart-to-heart with Gareth on. My phone was near my ear, and I waited, listening to the ringing on the other line.
It rang and rang and rang… and then it went to voicemail. I didn’t leave a message, instead hanging up. That was odd. If she saw it was me calling, why wouldn’t she answer? I decided to call again. This time, the call went straight to voicemail.
Huh. That wasn’t right.
I ran a hand down the side of my face, and I stared at my phone after lowering it from my ear. I didn’t know what made me look, but I checked her location. Something wasn’t sitting right with me. If Gareth had already tried something… fuck the truce. I’d kill that goddamned psychopath. The world would be better off without him in it, anyway. I’d be doing everyone a favor, especially Brianna.
Alistair would kill me once he found out, but by then, Brianna and I could be long gone.
Although, that was assuming she’d want to come with me, that she wouldn’t hate me for killing Gareth, and that she’d want to leave Alistair—since apparently she’d fucked him, too.
I really had to stop thinking about that.
The map pulled up on my phone, and a blinking dot showed Brianna’s location. Or, at least, her phone’s location. The very second it registered in my head that she was no longer at Montgomery Manor, my heart dropped.
Fuck. She was somewhere else, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, it looked like, and there was only one reason she’d be at a place like that. Fucking Gareth.
