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Was.Referring to Michael in the past tense seems to snap Athelia out of the shock-induced haze her mind is in. She tries to push past Wes and Kellan, but they don’t budge.
“You don’t need to see that,” Kellan says.
“He wasn’t going to hurt me,” she yells. “He was nice.”
“He’s a fucking serial killer,” Wes says. He’s losing patience. I’m sure he was hoping for some gratitude, but he scared the shit out of her.
Athelia laughs mirthlessly. “And why the fuck would I believe you?”
Wes throws his hands up. “Seriously? He had a knife to your throat.”
“Because you—he—” She turns to me, which seems to be her habit when she wants someone to take her side against Wes.
I just shrug.
“Why did you show up with guns?” she demands. “Why were you following me withweapons?Do you always carry those?”
“Not always,” Wes says.
She doesn’t say anything, watching him expectantly, but Wes doesn’t explain further.
“What were you doing out here?” Kellan asks. “How did you meet him?”
“I’m staying in the next cabin.” Athelia points to one that’s about fifty yards away. “He was outside when I got here, and he was making burgers for dinner and offered me one.”
“Cal, get her out of here,” Kellan says. “We’ll deal with the body.”
“What? No! I’m not going anywhere with you.” Athelia yanks her arm away from me.
“You really want to be alone out here after this guy almost slit your throat?” Wes asks.
Athelia’s face pales, and I kick Wes in the shins. I know what he’s trying to do, but his timing is horrible.
“Just come with me and let me make sure you’re okay,” I say.
“I’m fine,” she whispers. I don’t think even she believes herself.
Gently, I pull her down the steps and toward her cabin. She tells me again that she’s fine and can take care of herself, but she doesn’t fight me. Today has been overwhelmingly shitty for her, and I think she’s finally out of energy.
In her cabin, I flip on the light and search around for a bathroom. Once I find one, I gently lift her and set her on the counter next to the sink.
“Is he really a serial killer?” she asks as I wet a washcloth and start wiping up the blood on her face.
“He is.”
“How did you know that?” she whispers.
We’re not supposed to tell anyone what we do—obviously. It’s dangerous and potentially very, very illegal. Even if we’re working for a government organization, which is unlikely, we don’t haveany credentials. If we get caught, no one’s coming to save us. The same is true if we trust the wrong person and they turn us in.
“I think I should wait to explain that until the guys are in here.”
“I wanted to be left alone,” she says quietly. She’s staring directly into her lap, and she sounds so disappointed.
“I know. I’m sorry. For the record, we didn’t even know you’d be here.”
At that, she glances up at me. “Really?”
“We were here for him, not you. Never even crossed my mind that you’d come this way.”
