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Once things are all taken care of, I end up just going home, as lame as it feels.
It seems like the best option to me, at least so I can clean up. It takes longer than I had expected for me to scrub the blood off of my face. Though in reality, I’d probably overdone it; especially with how sore my skin is. Which is more obvious once the water is off and I’m staring in the mirror at the red, throbbing patch where there had once been the dark crimson of blood.
I’m too afraid to tell anyone what I’ve done. Rory and Phoenix will find out, eventually. I know that for a fact. So will everyone else, though I’m hoping they won’t think it’s me. But as the night gets colder, trick-or-treaters stream down our road, and I look at the kids dressed in fancy, garish costumes as they screech for candy, I start to wonder if I fucked up. If Evan’s not dead, even though Iknowthat’s not the case.
Finally, when I can’t take the stress of staring out the window and hoping his ghost isn’t about to show up, I sink down onto my sofa, bury myself in blankets. I go to sleep with the tv on, turned to a classic movies channel that’s showingwesternsof all things on Halloween.
If my parents try to wake me up, I never hear it. I only know that when my eyes do open, the ceiling fan spinning into view, I’m not alone. For seconds, I have no idea why my brain has come to that conclusion, until my ears finally join the party and I hear the television that’s still on, though is decidedlynoton an old movie channel anymore.
“—found dead in the parking lot, just hours after he was released from the hospital. Police have no leads, as this happened when they were questioning their only suspect. Now, the police think the murders might be linked to a violent drifter who’s made his way into Hollow Bridge…”The voice trails off, and I realize that the volume has been turned down, instead of the reporter trailing off into obscurity.
Finally, it dawns on me that I’m not sleeping in the position I’d curled up in. My body is lying along the sofa, head pillowed on someone’s thigh while, under my oversized comforter, a hand runs up my calf and back down, soothing rather than teasing.
“She’s awake.” Rory’s voice is plain, as if he’s answering a question, though his is the first voice I’ve heard. “With perfect timing, too. I think she got to hear the news.”
The hand on my leg stills, fingers squeezing my calf muscle gently. “Are you awake?” Phoenix’s low rumble comes from the other end of the sofa, and I realize he’s the one stroking my leg.
“Yeah,” I whisper into the comforter, burying my face in it. They don’t sound particularly happyormad. “I’m awake.” Rory’s hand buries under the blanket, and he curls his fingers against my scalp sweetly, nails scraping at my skin.
“Do you want to stop hiding? You look like you think we’re about to kill you. If we were, I don’t think Phoenix would be half asleep under your blanket, you know.”
“Depends,” I mutter, voice still obscured by the comforter. “If you’re upset with me, then I’d definitely rather stay under here. It’s safer.” I’m so exhausted. So raw…like my nerve endings were frayed by the knife I’d used to kill Evan.
God, the memory of killing him makes my stomach roll, and it’s hard not to groan into the comforter as I try to chase the feelings out of my brain. More than anything, I don’t need to spend the next day obsessing over the feeling of how easily the blade sank into Evan’s chest, or how it was almostsatisfyingto drag it across his throat—
“Mad?” Phoenix’s voice is muffled, and before I can stop him, he jerks the blanket off of me, letting most of it pool on the floor.
Now there’s nothing hiding me from them. Dressed in my pajama shorts and a thin tee, I feel completely vulnerable between the two of them, fully dressed and still wearing their hoodies and shoes. My heart stutters, and I want to do something—move or hide or sit up—but Phoenix pounces too quickly, knees sliding to either side of my thighs on the couch and one hand splayed just below my throat.
“How dare you?” he breathes, so soft that I barely hear him. “Don’t lessen what you did for me. Forus.” He slowly curls his fingers, the fabric of my shirt coiling with them as he pulls upward, towing me up into the air over the couch so there are a few inches of air between the cushions and my back. “I could never be mad at you, Bailey. Never in a million years.”
Comfortingly, Rory cards his fingers through my hair, and pushes Phoenix away enough that he can swoop in instead, picking me up without much effort and getting to his feet with me in his arms. I yelp, trying to stay conscious about the fact my parents are probably downstairs asleep, and dig my fingers into the hair at the base of his skull, eyes wide. “What are you doing?” I hiss as he carries me across the large room to dump me on my bed.
“Anything you could ever ask,” Rory replies seriously. “We put you in a bad position. You shouldn’t have had to do that.Ever. But you did. I’ll do anything for you, Bailey. You saved him.” He gestures to Phoenix, who moves to prowl closer, unzipping his hoodie and throwing it onto his shoes on the floor. He’s already barefoot, his heated gaze is fixed on mine, and the sound of Rory’s hoodie zipper as he shucks his off as well is what it takes to pull me back.
“Tell me what you did. Please,” Rory requests, sitting down on the bed in front of me, the mattress dipping under his weight. “I trust you, Bailey. I just want to make sure that there’s nothing we need to do to make sure this keeps going smoothly.” His voice is kind and comforting, and he drags me forward until my knees are on either side of his waist and Phoenix can slide onto the bed behind me, burying his face against my throat as one arm snakes around my ribs.
“I remembered what Phoenix said,” I admit, conscious of his mouth on my shoulder, though he doesn’t do more than rest his face there. “About Ernie McMann being a convenient suspect for if things went the wrong way. And what you texted me, too, about there being only circumstantial evidence to implicate Phoenix.” Absently, I reach out to find Phoenix’s wrist, and I hold it tightly while Rory’s hand strokes over my knee.
“I found Ernie. It tookhours, but he was at this old church where the food bank is. I was just going to take his gloves to implicate him. But then I saw he had a knife—”
“Aknife?” Phoenix interrupts. “You stole aknifefrom a violent—”
“She saved your ass,” Rory points out patiently. “So you’ve lost your reprimanding privileges for the night, my love.” His sweet smile when his gaze finds mine again warms me from the inside, and for the first time tonight, I don’t feel cold.
“So yeah, I stole a knife from the lair of the violent drifter,” I go on, lightly. “And I went to the hospital. Nic said…” My throat closes around the only piece ofrealguilt I’ve been able to locate so far. I’ve used Nic’s friendship, her confessions to me about her mom’s job and venting, to kill someone. She’d be heartbroken, and more than a little pissed off.
But I have no intention of ever telling her.
“She said Evan was getting out today. That he’d demanded his mom drop off his stupid red Mustang so he could drive himself home. Thanks to her, I also know that the county keeps denying the funds to better equip the hospital’s security system, or fix any of the things that are broken. There are no cameras in that part of the parking lot, and Evan’s car was in the worst place ever.” I don’t mean to spill the stupid things; like my hesitation, and the way I’d seen a flash from that day from the lake.
But I do. The details fall from my lips like rain, and once I start, I’m unable to stop. I tell them about nearly giving up. About how I’d thought I couldn’t do it.
I tell them how it felt with Evan’s blood on my skin and the knife dragging across his throat, opening up his jugular until he wasn’t moving anymore, or breathing.
I even tell them how I’d stayed until his body was cold, unsure of what else to do, and how I’d left the evidence after. But for a few seconds after, when I’m trapped in my thoughts and the cycle of disbelief and acceptance, I don’t realize they aren’t talking, either.
“Oh, Bailey.” Phoenix buries his face in my hair and sighs. “They arrested him a little while ago. It just wasn’t in time to make the news. From what my mom said, the cops are more than sure he’d done it, thanks to what you left there. Thanks toyou.”
